#but i just didn’t…care the first time around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bwere · 9 hours

Text

WHAT'S AFTER PLAN B?

after missing your period, you decided to take a pregnancy test, whatever happens next depends on him.

feature: choso, gojo, geto | part ii: nanami, sukuna, toji, hiromi

content: 4.5k+ wc — not proofread + mentions of pregnancy, slight guilt trip, possessive sēx, light cm play, dggystyle, m!reciving, pssy eating, fluff, nastay

CHOSO KAMO

Choso had been enamored with you since the day you two first met, and ever since he had been by your side whenever he had the chance, like a lost puppy.

However, he was no different during sex, but rather–worse.

The day you graced him with the chance to even see her at all, never in his life had he been so hard that it hurt to move. In that moment he wanted to cum so bad—already having a pool of pre-cum seeping embarrassingly through the thread of his boxers.

He never wanted to pull out of your tight hole, never dared to dream of a day he wasn’t fucking you after your first time together. The same hole that has his hips stuttering as he pounds into your tight cunt, drooling. every. time.

The same pussy that took his virginity, what else would he be if not obsessed? Nothing would ever relate to the way your insides claimed him. Not his hands, not ever any toys, not anyone else, just you.

You had him locked in a chokehold from the start—and the day you trusted him to take care of your insides was the day he swore he would do anything for you.

He fucks you like his only purpose in life was to please you—trying to get you pregnant, emptying every last drop he has in you. Never taking his dick out, giving you two a second to catch your breath, before hes fucking into you even harder.

Is it really so surprising as he now holds your pregnancy test while you wait for him to respond?

“…Y-You’re?” he gulps as the weight of reality sinks in–his heart struggling to function at the sudden news.

You forewarned him numerous times, that if he didn’t stop cumming in you every time you had sex, that birth control wouldn’t even be able to stop the carelessness of his actions—that would only end up with you pregnant.

“Pregnant, yes.” you bit your lip, looking down at your feet as the room shifts into silence. Leaving your mind to wonder until he begins to open his mouth.

His eyebrows slightly furrow as he turns to face you, seeming taken aback. “Are you going to keep it?" he asks.

“I've thought about it.” you quip with a sigh.

His eyes map your face with attentiveness, looking for falter between the lines of your words. Sliding closer to you, making you feel the weight of the couch dip. “And?”

“Anddd, I want to know how you’d feel if we were to—possibly try?”

A switch in Choso's mind flickered. The plush cushions yielded beneath his weight, and suddenly, you were lying flat on your back, pinned by the force of his body against yours. His chest pressed against your ribs, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Do you know how long I've wished to watch your belly grow? To let everyone know I'm the one who stuffed you full of my cum, made you the soon to be mother of our child?”

“Well I-”

His eyes bore into yours, searching for answers. “Tell me,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to yours, “How would you feel? Walking around while everyone knows you got fucked by me so good, that you ended up pregnant?”

You swallowed, your pulse racing. “I'd feel…” the words escaped you, lost in the intensity of the moment. “I'd feel proud letting everyone know you’re mine.”

Choso’s thumb brushed against your lower lip, and you leaned into his touch. his mouth hovered over yours, a breath away. “Don’t you want to make me proud?”

“Y-Yes…so proud,” you nodded.

Then without warning, his lips met yours—a collision of heat and longing. The couch bounced again, but this time, it was forgotten. All that mattered was the taste of him, the way his kiss ignited a thousand sparks within you.

Admittedly, making your pussy clench just from the tension.

His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheekbone as if committing every detail to memory. When he finally pulled away, your lips tingled, and you struggled to catch your breath.

Choso’s eyes bleeding into yours, dark and unreadable. The room felt charged, as if the air itself crackled with unspoken promises. “Then let’s make sure you do.”

You could feel his growing arousal against your thigh, reminding you of the very reason why you were in this predicament.

"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant constantly," he whispered, his hands roaming over your body. "I can't get enough of you, baby."

“C-Cho’ need it inside…please…” you felt your worries melt away as you surrendered to his touch. You’ve thought about it too, desperately, and he made sure you were gonna get just that. Your clothes falling to the floor, as you kissed and touched each other without plan.

Choso positioned himself between your legs, looking deep into your eyes.

"I've been missin’ her," he said, stroking your thighs. "Seems like she missed me too,"

“Mnh—don’ tease Cho’….”

“H-Hah, how am i s’posed to say no to that?” positioning his throbbing dick at the entrance of your soaked pussy he slowly thrusted forward.

Both of you gasped as you felt yourself being stretched and filled by his inconsiderable length. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being sheathed in your tightness.

"You like that, pretty?" earning a moan from the depths of your throat—meeting his thrusts with eager hips.

"Y-Yes…!," you whispered, licking your lips. "I love it—f-fuck me, Cho’. Make me a mommy…mngha"

Choso began to move, sliding in and out of you with long, deep strokes. He watched as his cock disappeared inside you, only to emerge glistening and slick. You threw your head back, moaning loudly as your whole body trembled with pleasure.

Choso fucked your worries and stress as they melt away. You loved the way he made you feel—wanted, desired, and absolutely worshiped.

His breath was hot against your neck as he whispered dirty words of encouragement. "T-That’s it pretty, take it all, mnguh—” he grunted. "Your pussy feels s-suh good, s-squeezin’ my dick. m’ gonna cum so deep inside you..."

You knew you shouldn't encourage his reckless behavior, but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just wanted to feel him cum inside of you.

"C-Uhm for me, cho—ngh!” you begged. "Wan’uh feel it deep in my womb!”

“Oh f-fuck, she’s milking me so tight baby…mmmphn!” with a guttural groan, Choso obeyed, pushing deep till his load shot inside of you, his cock pulsating in the process.

His cum was seeping out of you and pushing you over the edge yet again. Crying his name like it was your first word, your pussy surrendering around him, savoring the last drop of his exhausted cock.

“Mmgnh—you’re so pretty like this, stuffed full of my b-babies…shit..”

GOJO SATORU

ring ring ring ring

You paced around the kitchen anxiously awaiting for Satoru to pick up the call.

You were one week late for your period, and while dealing with Satoru, physically training you to be prepared with plan b, this time it finally failed.

Satoru knew how to pull out sure, it’s the fact that he just never really wanted too. yeah he loved watching his cum drip off your tits, painting your body, or slipping off his tip and resting on your tastebuds. he’d just much rather watch your tight pussy struggling to hold in his cum from leaking out.

He'd continuously rearrange your insides and clean up any mess he left behind. Satoru won't acknowledge that he has occasionally wondered what you would look like if you were carrying his child. your love handles would get doughier than usual, and your nipples, hard and lactating, the whole concept made him ignore the negative aspects. and while having a child is a blessing, his life's ambition was to have one with you.

Every time he saw your pussy strain to contain his cum, he secretly hoped that one day you would fall pregnant in order to bring downfall on your plan b pills. it's not as if they were safe for you anyways, right?

What trouble could one child bring…

“Satoru? hello?”

“Yes, my love?”

There’s a moment of calm static on the other end of the line.

“I missed my period by a week, it didn’t even hit me until I looked at the calendar.”

“Really? Are you sure?” with a smile that defies words, he asks.

"Yes, I'm sure—" you say, opening your mouth to let out a frustrated sigh, "and a little worried, too."

“Hey, don’ be scared, this could be a good thing. Can you imagine? A little one who has your beauty and my charm?”

“Satoru…” you groan.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I want you to know that i’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” trying to soothe your anxieties he speaks again, “why don’ you use my card and get a test?”

“So what happens if it’s positive?”

“Then we can figure out the rest. if not, then my answer still stands.”

Before you speak, there's a pause during which you can hear his students' soft voices blending momentarily with the call's background noise, taking it as a sign the calls about to end. “I guess I’ll take one."

“Atta girl, look, I have to go but I love you and I'll see you when you get home ‘kay?”

“Alright, I love you too, toru’ bye.”

beep beep beep—

Unusually quiet, the house remained hushed after you hung up. the next few hours, feeling like your mind was against you, terrible thoughts creeping in your head.

It felt like there was a war with your heart and mind that made your gut queasy.

All you could think about were the amount of things that could go wrong. What if something happens that causes you to lose the baby? What if having a baby starts to hinder Satoru’s life outside of you? There’s too much at risk you thought.

You pick up Satoru's credit card and use it while you scroll through your favorite online grocery store. The familiar layout of the website distracting you with certainty to the whirlwind of emotions you’re experiencing.

You add your favorite snacks, the ones that always manage to lift your spirits. As you browse through the website, you remember the most important item - the pregnancy test. within a few more clicks, the test is added to your cart.

Once you’ve reviewed the order, you proceed to checkout. you enter Satoru’s card details, and with a final click, the order is placed. a sense of relief washes over you. Now, all you have to do is wait.

As you wait for the delivery, you decide to take a shower. The idea of the warm water feels comforting against your nerves.

Dropping your towel as you stepped onto the ceramic flooring—turning on the shower head quickly after, you let out a sigh as the streams of water began to run down your face.

You tried to calm yourself, letting the water wash away the tension in your position. The shower becomes a sanctuary, a place where you can let your guard down and just be.

You lose track of time as the water cascades down, each droplet echoing your heartbeat.

The steam fills the bathroom, creating a soothing atmosphere. As you let your thoughts wander, thinking about the future, about Satoru, and about the possible life growing inside you.

Until hearing the front door open and close—pulling you from your daze. signaling, Satoru was home.

A few moments later, you could hear him dropping his keys on the nightstand in your shared room. Then quietly making his way to the bathroom and without a word, joining you in the shower.

"Satoru—" you started, but he cut you off.

“How do you feel now?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, " Um, alittle better, anything new happen at work?”

Satoru looked at you, his eyes soft but serious. "Don’t try changin’ the subject," he said, his tone firm.

You looked at him, surprised by his intensity, "M’ not, Satoru. m’’ just... trying to process everything."

His head resting against your neck, as he caved his large frame behind you. “Some things you don’t need to process alone y’know,”

You didn't respond to him. the sounds only the shower provides, shooting streams that drench you both equally. "I just don't want this to get in the way of your work," you confess, turning to face him.

As the water continued to cascade down, Satoru gently cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheek. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of emotions - concern, anticipation, and most importantly, love. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, a silent promise of his unwavering support. “Would’ve had a different reaction if I didn’t want this, you know that right?”

He cut you off before you could even reply, leaning in - to capture your lips with his. It was a gentle kiss, filled with passion. The romantic tension between you two was palpable, the air in the shower becoming steamy. But it was a sweet kind of tension, one that spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other.

As you pulled away, you looked into Satoru’s eyes, clouded by his lust and love for you–now reflecting back at you. “Do I need to show you just how much I want this baby?”

"Depends, how would you go about doing that, hmm?"

“You tell me baby,” with a sly grin, Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, pressing his body against yours in the steamy shower. His hands roamed skillfully up and down your body, caressing and exploring your every curve and contour.

You let out a soft moan as his lips found the nape of your neck, and you tilted your head back, melting into his touch. "I think–I have a pretty good idea of how you're going to show me," you breathed, your voice husky with temptation.

Satoru's eyes glinted mischievously as he smiled, “Then you must know what I want you to do.”

You could feel how much Satoru wanted you, and to say you wanted him back was an understatement.

You gave in to his request without thinking twice, bending over and exposing yourself to him, spreading yourself just like he wanted. His hands settled softly on your hips as he drew you in, admiring the way you had yourself on show for him, relishing in the beauty of your form.

His cock rested heavily as he chided against your pussy. He cautiously grounded your lower body while stroking your clit with his tip moving it back and forth.

“Mmmn–toru’”

“Aww…so wet f’me already?” he chuckles, breathy grunts in between.

“I-Its just the water mgnh…!–”

Satoru traversed himself beneath you and stepped in between your legs, gently separating them. you sighed softly as his fingers probed your warm folds and you felt an electric current flow through every nerve in your body.

He spoke in your ear, his deep voice resonating through you, "Whatever helps you sleep at night sweetheart,’’

Satoru put his hands on your hips and moved slowly at first, taking in every part of your body as he made his way inside. He picked up the pace, driving deeper and harder into you with each thrust, making you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up. “ooh–fuck toru’ t’s too much..”

“Nothin’ you can’t handle mmmhmm- isn’t that right?” pleasure filled every inch of your body, and Satoru's eyes were fixed on yours, mirroring your own yearning. with each passing second that went by, you could feel the pressure inside of you growing.

“–Mgnhmm, I can- toru’ fuck! I can handle it…!”

“Baby–shit…your cunt’s s-swallowin’ me baby fuhck—no wonder you missed your period..”

Your bodies well submerged in the soaking shower, Satoru pumped into you with all he could, his thrusts growing harder and faster. Making you cry out in exhilaration—begging him to make you cum–telling him how good he was making you feel.

“Y-Yeah? gonna c-cum too pretty…fuck! ughn, cum on my cock like you mean in baby…wanna feel them walls spasmin’” he panted. his fingers, tight on your face, drawing you nearer as he gave you a heated kiss.

Satoru kept thrusting into you, his pace growing more erratic as you both were ready to cum, your lips never daring to leave each other. you were lost in pleasure, just as much as he was. relishing the feeling of his hard body pressed against yours, the sensation of his firm hands holding you tight.

“Mmmnuph!–toru’ pleash m’ cummin’!”

Satoru looked into your eyes intensely, whispering sweet nothings as his hand caressed your face. "You did s-so good, baby," he murmured, "Your lil hole’ so full of my cum mmmh." his voice was laced with adoration.

“You look so beautiful,” his eyes ran over you, softly. "Honna look even better with my baby in your belly, aren’tcha?" Satoru whispered in your ear.

“Oh hush…Satoru.”

“Jus’ sayin!” he smiled widely.

And just as you and Satoru were reveling in the afterglow of your shared orgasm, there was a loud ring from your front door, startling you both out of your passionate daze.

ding-dong

“What the hell?” Satoru groaned against your neck.

“Oops–I forgot about the groceries I ordered earlier.” you sighed, causing Satoru to chuckle at your antics. “I'll get them for you baby, just get cleaned up.”

GETO SUGURU

You both had been trying for a while now, and each month brought a mix of hope and disappointment. But he never let it bring you down.

He’d fuck your worries away if it mean’t you’d never have doubt - and hell, he did it anyway.

These past nights ending with you being fucked out on his cock–struggling to keep up with his endurance for hours. He’d come home and fuck you, wake up in the morning and fuck you, finish dinner and fuck you. He’d fill you so good, he was sure your pussy was a supervillain—sucking his orgasm straight from his soul.

You knew these things take time, and so did he. But, Geto on the other hand—was more than happy, getting to fuck you relentlessley every night, having a reason ignore your whimpers for him to give you a moment, only for him to remind you, “We have to make sure you get pregnant baby, isn’t that what you wanted? To grow my child in your lil’ womb hmm?”

And after those same nights, you would lay in bed with Geto, his arms wrapped around you, whispering sweet words of encouragement after he just fucked you unwalkable.

“We'll get there, baby,” he would say, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. “We just need to be patient.”

You were both lounging around the house, enjoying the lazy day. Geto was reading a book while you were trying to decide what to make for dinner. opening the fridge, you sighed.

“Sugu’, we’re out of almost everything,” you called out, staring at the nearly empty shelves.

Geto looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow. “Really? I thought we just went shopping,” he replied, setting his book down and walking over to join you.

You shrugged, stepping aside to let him see for himself. “Guess we forgot to pick up a few things,” you said, watching as he scanned the contents of the fridge.

Geto hummed in agreement, closing the fridge door. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he said, turning to look at you. “How about we go to the store? We can pick up what we need and maybe grab something for dinner too.”

You nodded, appreciating his willingness to help out. “Sounds like a plan, Sugu’,” you replied, grabbing your wallet and keys. “Let's go.”

He picked up a shopping cart as soon as you both entered the store and began navigating the aisles. Geto took the lead, pushing the cart while you walked beside him, a shopping list in hand.

After getting most of the things you needed, it came time to check out.

Unbeknownst to Geto, you had secretly picked up a pregnancy test and slipped it into the basket. Your heart racing as the cashier picked up the test, scanning it without a second glance. You held your breath, wondering if Geto had noticed. But he remained silent, paying for the items and chatting casually with the cashier.

The sun was starting its slow descent, casting a warm golden glow through the kitchen window as you returned home.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a secret hidden within those shopping bags you carefully placed on the counter. You busied yourself, unpacking the groceries, your hands slightly shaking as you tried to appear calm and collected. But Geto, ever observant, noticed your nervous energy from across the room.

He watched you for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes, before quietly making his way over. Sliding his arms around your waist, he pulled you back against his chest, his palms roaming across your hips, caressing the curves of your body. You let out a soft gasp as his touch sent a jolt through you.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, his warm breath tickling your skin, "Wanna tell me what this is all about, baby?"

You froze, your heart pounding in your ribs. Of course, he had seen the pregnancy test. "I just wanted to be sure, Sugu’," you replied, your voice soft and hesitant. "I didn't want to get your hopes up." his hands stilled on your hips and you could feel his eyes on you as he waited for you to turn and face him.

"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart?" Geto asked, his voice gentle and full of understanding. "We've been hoping for this. I know it's a big deal, but we're in this together." his palms were gentle as they slid up your stomach, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.

"No secrets, remember?" he murmured, his lips now placing soft kisses along your jaw.

Turning in his arms, you found yourself face-to-face with him, his eyes searching yours. "I know, and I'm sorry," you whispered, your worries melting away under the intense gaze.

His hands continued their exploration, sliding up your thighs now, drawing you closer against him so you could feel his cock against your belly. "Let me make it up to you," you breathed, your eyes dropping to his lips.

without another word, you dropped to your knees in front of him, running your hands up his powerful thighs. you could feel his eyes on you as you undid his belt, your heart pounding with anticipation.

His hands kneading the back of your neck as you pulled his zipper down, freeing his thick, hard cock. You paused for a moment, looking up at him, before taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting his pre-cum.

A soft groan escaped his lips as you took more of him into your mouth, slowly working your way down his length. Your hands rested on his thighs for support as you took him deeper, your nose nuzzling his pubic bone. He filled your mouth completely, and you relaxed your throat, taking him all the way down, your lips brushing his balls.

He let out a sharp breath, his hands tightening in your hair. "Fuuuck, baby, that feels so good," he grunted, his hips beginning to move gently, thrusting slowly into your wet, warm mouth.

You looked up at him, your eyes smoldering, as you began to bob your head, sucking and licking, taking pleasure in your power over him.

He tasted so good, and you wanted to pleasure him, to show him how much you cared. You slid your hands up his thighs, gripping his ass, pulling him deeper into your throat as you moaned softly around him.

His movements became more urgent, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth with a wet, sucking sound.

"Keep goin’ princess," he grunted, his hips stuttering as he held you in place, his cock thrusting deep into your throat. you relaxed and took him, your nails digging into his thighs as he began to cum, spurting hot and salty into your throat.

“Mmgnhguk–!” you swallowed around him, milking him with your mouth, drawing out his orgasm. as his hips stilled, you slowly pulled off him, licking your lips, a satisfied smile on your face.

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes clouded with wanting. "That was…that was amazing, baby. But now, I needa’ to taste you." he pulled you up, crushing his lips to yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

His hands roamed your body, cupping your tits, squeezing and teasing your nipples through your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fumbling with his buttons, needing to feel skin on skin. “Mmngh–Sugu’..”

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, as guided you onto the counter, spreading your legs. As he knelt before you, his eyes hot as he pulled your pants down, revealing your wet, eager pussy. "So fucking gorgeous," he murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive skin as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your inner thigh.

You let out a soft whimper, anticipation coiling tight within you. Then - his tongue was on you, licking slow and deep, teasing your clit, making you squirm.

His hands gripped your knees, holding you in place as he feasted, sucking and lapping at your sweetness.

“Su-Suguru…mmnh!” you moaned his name, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him against you as your hips bucked gently.

"Mmm, you taste so fucking good," he hummed against your pussy, sending vibrations through you as his tongue delved deep, then circled your sensitive clit.

"Cum for me, baby, I want to feel you cum, fuckin’ need it baby." his fingers now joined, two of them sliding inside you, curling and stroking that magic spot deep within your pussy.

You cried out, your body tightening around his fingers as your orgasm hit. He held you through it, his tongue relentless, lapping at your juices as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

"That's it, baby, let go f’me," he mumbled, his voice a soft purr. As the tremors began to subside, he slowed, placing gentle kisses along your sensitive slit. Leaving you panting, your body sated, a satisfied smile on your face as you looked down at him.

He stood, both of his palms facing flat by your sides, kissing you deeply. "You did so good, pretty girl." he smirked against your mouth, his hands holding you close. "I could say the same to you handsome," you grinned back, pressing your lips to his.

547 notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 2 days

Text

when they take a joke too far | ot13

❥ seungcheol

as much as i love cheol, i don’t think he’d immediately notice that he took the joke too far, mainly because of the fact that when he’s in the moment, surrounded by other people, you know - trying to be funny (maybe attempting on impressing others with his amazing joking skills), he’d be a bit too focused on the people surrounding him. it doesn’t change the fact that the second he notices you acting a tad bit off, he’s all over you asking you questions - if you are all right, if you want to leave, if you need food or water, his jacket etc etc. when he’d find out you were upset by his joke, oh - he’d be so so disappointed and angry with himself, truly. cheol would apologise, of course, and ask you if you needed space (it would break his heart if you said yes tbh, but he'd understand that). he just wouldn’t want to disappoint and hurt you even more.

❥ jeonghan

jeonghan knows he can be quite petty and sarcastic at times, and his jokes can be taken ambiguously sometimes, especially when people don’t really know him and his humour. then again, he’d never tell a mean joke on purpose, he’s not mean like that, but sometimes his jokes do not come out as he means them to. it could take him some time to notice you being upset over his joke because after all you’re quite used to his sense of humour, so he’d never think that you could get upset over it. in his mind his joke is just a silly comment, he obviously doesn’t mean for it to upset you, god forbid. when he finds out you’re bothered by it though, he’d apologise in any way he could - he’d be extra attentive, clingy, and careful with you, but giving you space at the same time.

❥ joshua

immediately feels so bad when he sees your expression fall after his bad joke. does not wait to apologise later or reflect on what he had just said - your visible sadness is enough for joshua to cradle your face in his hands and apologise, as sincerely as he can. even if you’re with friends or other acquaintances, he doesn’t care if people are staring or murmuring to each other, all he cares about is apologising. even if you’d forgive him, joshua would still be a bit more wary around you, making sure to give you space but at the same time still care for you and take care of you, because despite your words - he knew you were still a bit upset.

❥ jun

wouldn’t be sure whether to pack up his things and move out of your apartment, bury himself under the sheets, or to bawl his eyes out. the worst part is when he doesn’t even realise that he upset you with his joke, because what do you mean that he made you sad and he proceeded to go about his day like nothing happened? HE DIDN’T KNOW, PLEASE FORGIVE HIM. it’s never, ever jun’s intention to make you upset (duh), and it makes everything so much worse - he’s the one who’s supposed to make you laugh, not sad. when he realises that he took the joke too far he’s not sure how to approach you, because if he could he’d apologise immediately, but then again - what if you hate him now?

❥ hoshi

this man is the epitome of “saying before thinking”, and while he’d never tell a joke to offend someone on purpose, shit happens and not all of his jokes come off as jokes. he also gets easily distracted so it could take some time for him to notice you being upset, but at the same time he’s such a simp for you, so he’d either realise you were bothered by his comment an hour later or the second the joke left his mouth. would be the type to fall to his knees, hug your waist, bury his face in your stomach, and proceed with an at least hour apology because he feels that bad. his dramatic behaviour (and the even more dramatic apology speech) would make you laugh so hard, you’d forget about the joke in seconds. still, hoshi would be extra caring with you because no excuse could justify his joke that was lame and unfunny in the first place.

❥ wonwoo

to be honest, i don’t see a world where wonwoo would take a joke too far, he’d notice you being uncomfortable before you’d even know you were upset by the joke yourself. BUT, if it (somehow) happened, his apology would come straight away. there is no way he’d be able to proceed with his day without apologising at least fifty times - he’s so in tune with your emotions, it’d be like he could feel you hurting because of the joke himself. wonwoo would feel very ashamed of even thinking, let alone telling such a joke, he’d feel very disappointed in himself, and he’d beat himself up for that for days.

❥ woozi

would apologise immediately - jihoon doesn’t like bullshitting around stuff, there is no way he’d wait with apologising, not only because he doesn’t like getting into conflicts, but because you deserve that apology. it’s never his intention to upset you, and he wouldn’t be able to proceed with his day without saying something. like, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t? after incidents like those (not that they happen often), he’s a bit more cautious around you, making sure to not overstep any boundaries, and letting you have some space.

❥ dk

not happening, sorry - there is no way seokmin would take a joke too far to the point of upsetting someone, especially you. no. freaking. way. he’d rather set his body of fire than make an upsetting joke.

❥ mingyu

there’s also a slim chance of mingyu taking a joke too far, he’s too good of a person to upset anyone with his jokes. if it happened, he’d immediately apologise, probably in one of the most dramatic ways ever - throwing himself on his knees, yapping about how sorry he is, and how he didn’t know how such a joke could even come to his mind, while he’s eyes would be screaming “FORGIVE ME PLEASE”. he would be so disappointed and angry at himself for saying the joke, like it would take him days to get over it, even if you said you forgave him. there’s just something about taking a joke too far and making your significant upset because of it that breaks mingyu’s heart.

❥ minghao

he can be very blunt and petty, his humour is not for everyone, but that still doesn’t mean he’d upset anyone on purpose (unless that person is rude, then they get the full on xu minghao treatment). when he notices he took his joke too far regarding you, he’s kind of clueless on what to do next - it’s not like he can ignore the fact that he said what he said, and he feels so ashamed for making you upset, in fact - too ashamed to apologise immediately. all of his confidence and bluntness suddenly leaves him, because how is he supposed to keep his head high when he just made his significant other upset with a joke, he decided to think of and then say.

❥ seungkwan

our savage boo can be a tad too savage at times, and sometimes his remarks can be a bit upsetting. good thing is that he quickly realises when he oversteps the boundary of what is funny and what is not, so it wouldn’t take him much time to understand that you got genuinely upset over his joke. would take your hands in his, and with a lowered head (he’d be too embarrassed and ashamed of upsetting you to look at you), and try to apologise as sincerely as he could. seungkwan would make sure to give you some space, though it would break his heart - but he knew that that was what he had to do for you to forgive him completely.

❥ vernon

vernon isn’t known for coming up with loud and bold jokes, so he immediately catches himself after telling the joke that clearly wasn’t a good one, especially because it was directed towards you. his first instinct is to watch you to see your reaction, he wouldn’t want to say anything right away, afraid that it would make the situation only worse. he’s very cautious when approaching you, he’d understand if you’d need some space, but at the same time he doesn’t want to wait with his apology, because he feels really, really bad. he's also really good at apologising - maybe taking the full accountability for a bad joke is the bare minimum, but then again finding the bare minimum is very hard lately.

❥ chan

chan is usually quite good at controlling what he’s saying, he’s very cautious of the emotions of the people around him, and how his words might affect them. sometimes shit happens though, and not all of his jokes come out as he’d wish them to. chan’s a simp and he’s a loser for you, so he’d catch on to the fact that he took his joke too far quite quickly, and wouldn’t know how to act. he just made you sad, no - he just offended you. his joke, his words made you upset, and that’s a complete failure of his boyfriend duties, because his jokes are supposed to make you laugh, not upset. wouldn’t know how to approach you, would try to apologise through acts of service.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei

619 notes · View notes

miirohs · 2 days

Text

all yours, all mine [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader wc: 1.3k cw: again, slight yandere/possesive tendencies, allusion to abuse an: guys i am feeling uninspired lately,,,, needed to pull everything in me for this one. sigh. its 2 in the morning what am i doing with my life i need to sleep not be up to this bs GODDDDDDD strike me down.

Charles knew you weren’t truly his wife.

He himself had shot his bride to be, too loud and too lecherous to realize how she’d met her end, bragging about killing him for his money in his club.

He thought that’d be the last of it, that their family wouldn’t be brave enough to show face again.

Yet, they became audacious, sending him a woman, a woman who was nothing like the bride he had seen.

Hell, you didn’t even look the same as the other.

There was no way their family didn’t know by now that he was the one who killed their only daughter, yet he could only imagine this was their attempt at faking normalcy because he’d never seen his bride before, right?

He laughed, in all honesty.

He could’ve played along, see what would’ve happened, and have been done with you by dinner if he wanted to. But part of him wanted you to show your true colors, to be able to kill the venomous woman hiding behind the veil.

That day never came though.

He was too baffled by the sight of you clinging to their sides, eyes down as you could barely keep up in the shoes slightly too big to be yours.

He pretended not to notice.

At dinner he questioned you, much to your visible discomfort. He could see the glances you gave the other members of your supposed family, meekly responding back as they glared sharply at your head, only smiling when they noticed his stares. It didn’t take long for him to connect two and two.

It was there and then he’d made the awfully irrational decision to go forward with the marriage. He wanted to pull you out of your shell, see who you really were under the supposed mask you had on in front of everyone.

Your marriage was a grand affair, bosses from all around the globe visiting just to see the ceremony. He had refused to give in to their demands for a smaller wedding, going all out just for you.

And true to his word, he treated you with more respect than he’d ever cared to show anyone else. For him, hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks as he tried to pull you out of your shell.

It was a while before he got the first laugh out of you. He felt like he’d won everything when you gave him small smiles. He did everything to get them out of you. Showering you in lavish gifts, surprising you with expensive dates, it made him feel like he was finally doing something right.

Seeing your full smile was what truly made it worth it, easing the pain of your time with your former family, if he could even call them that.

He’d made sure to cut all contact with them, and he knew you were contacting them against his wishes, so he took it into his own hands to make sure they couldn’t bother you for a single cent again. He plotted behind your back and as sorry as he felt for lying to you, he paid for his guilt in consuming you with his neediness, wrapping you tightly from your waking moments almost as if you’d disappear forever if you left his field of vision.

You didn’t question it, but you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t startle you a bit.

He hummed as you gently ran your fingers through his hair, pit forming in your stomach as you heard him mutter in Italian on the phone, pen scratching against the paper of his notepad.

You heard the bare sentences of his conversation, too fast for you to understand, but you thought you had a good idea of what he was planning.

“Dovremo metterli a tacere (We'll have to silence them)-”

A couple heartbeats passed as he listened, your heart clenching almost painfully as you held the cuff of his suit jacket between your thumb and index finger. Maybe he had figured it out, maybe he was already plotting ways to dispose of you for tricking him in such a grievous manner. You hadn’t heard from the family in weeks, and it made you anxious.

“Non sono d'accordo? Bene, uccideteli (they won’t agree? fine, kill them).”

For a moment there, you didn’t see your husband, but the Devil of Monte Carlo.

He didn’t say anything, and you couldn’t bring yourself to, letting your hand slip away from his crown.

“Y/n? What happened?” He frowned, hand rubbing against the small of your back.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, words lying on the tip of your tongue as he cocked his head at you.

“It’s nothing.” You moved your hands away from his neck, balling into little fists in your lap.

“It’s not nothing,” He pressed, staring you down firmly despite the gentle tone of his voice. He knew you, almost too well.

“I… i don’t know how to tell you. You’re going to hate me if I do.” Your voice warbled out as he kissed you on the neck, too light and breezy to mean anything serious.

“Try me. You’d be surprised at how well I take things, and I'm not unreasonable.” Another kiss, leading up the column of your neck as you squealed at the feeling of his warm lips on cooled skin.

“Well, uh, i-” He bit down lightly, earning a soft smack from you in the back of the head, “-Char, what are you doing?”

“Trying to cheer you up.” He said, kissing on the spot he’d bit with an incomparable amount of gentleness.

“I just have something to tell you and i-”

“Is it important in any way that actively harms our lives?” He butt in, giving you a curious look.

“No, but-”

“Then I don't care.” He shrugged, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth. You didn’t even know you could’ve gotten that loud, when you finally spit it out.

“I’m not your real wife, Char. I never was.”

He didn’t say anything, humming against the crown of your head as his hand snuck up your back and held you closer to him.

“Char, please.”

“I knew that, this isn’t new news.”

You held on, mouth gaping slightly.

“You… you knew this whole time, and you-”

“I deliberately didn’t tell you.” He scoffed, pulling your chin down to look at him. “I knew you’d run back to that so-called family that I did if I had told you. You barely trusted me, and it was their fault. So that’s why I'm going to make sure all of them take a nice long vacation.”

You couldn’t really feel the abject horror anymore, melting into sheer relief as you finally looked at him once more.

There was something about the way he looked at you, tantalizing and hypnotized almost.

‘But, aren’t you mad about me…?”

“Oh I was, I was furious.”

His lips ghosted over yours, the hint of a smile somewhere there.

“But they ended up giving me something all the more precious, something I couldn't replace. You know what that is, mon amour?”

You didn’t even have to say it, as he kissed you, lips smooth against your slightly chapped ones. The expensive perfume grew smaller, closer and closer to you as the space between you closed.

“I’ve done some unspeakable things.” He panted quietly against your lips, landing another soft kiss on the other corner. “But nothing as unspeakable as killing your so-called “family” this late in the game. Some part of me wishes i had done it earlier to spare you that grief.”

You didn’t respond but he continued nonetheless, hands wrapped around your waist to bring you closer to him .”Remember that you're mine and I'm all yours. I would do anything for you.”

And the worst part is, somewhere deep down, you knew it to be true. He was always yours, and you were always his. He'd made sure of it, and you weren't entirely complaining.

427 notes · View notes

illyrianbitch · 1 day

Text

An Education in Malice — Part Four

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: 18+ heavy making out and wandering hands, lots of bickering, sexual tension, threats, name calling, torture and wound descriptions, abuse, two emotionally dysregulated cunts tbh

Word Count: 7.7k

←Part Three

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The air between you and Azriel had taken on a peculiar tension lately, some overwhelming, suffocating force that made you feel entirely too nervous for your comfort.

Neither of you could ever pinpoint who made the first move— or rather, neither of you were willing to admit who did— but somehow, like clockwork, your dress was hiked up, his leathers were undone, and he was rutting into you from behind. It was always the same: a possessive grip on your waist, in your hair, or on your breasts, breath hot against your ear as he whispered words that only fueled the fire between you, responses to whatever comments you had made to rile him up.

It had become a distraction, this strange dynamic you created, that even Renard's interrogations had taken a backseat in lieu of it. It was proving increasingly difficult to get work done between fighting or fucking.

The chamber was a dismal pit, darkness swallowing any hint of light that dared to enter. Moisture clung to the walls like a thick veil– the dirty, fetid atmosphere was tainted with the unmistakable stench of blood and other bodily fluids. You wrinkled your nose in disgust.

Azriel approached Renard, head cocking slightly to the side as his shadows danced around him— seemingly curious, excited almost. A twisted sense of satisfaction grew within you at the sight of Renard's pitiful state—starving, bloody, bruised, and desperate.

Perhaps you should have felt some semblance of remorse or pity; even with how cruel Renard was, a compassionate soul should still feel a sense of guilt, a sense of sickness. But as you searched your body for it, as you attempted to muster it up, you came up empty handed. Instead, a rush of power surged through you. It felt like karma– well deserved karma.

You glanced at Azriel. There seemed to be a mirrored expression of satisfaction on his face, an unphased coolness to the situation before him. Even his shadows seemed at home, falling into familiar, rehearsed positions as he moved. Deep down, something within you rested at the realization that he felt no remorse, either.

“Is your plan to just stare at him until he confesses his secrets?”

Azriel could already anticipate the scowl on your face from the tone of your voice alone. He slowly turned his head to toss an unamused glare your way, hazel eyes momentarily scanning your figure.

For the first time since this arrangement had begun, you were clad in something different, a departure from the usual dresses that adorned your form. The ensemble was a blend of regality and practicality, more akin to the attire of a warrior than a courtly lady— fitted pants and a tailored tunic, fabric adorned with subtle embellishments of autumn. It seemed as if Azriel wasn’t used to the sight yet— or he was entirely repulsed. You weren’t sure which, but you didn’t quite care, either.

When his eyes met yours again, you gave him an impatient eyebrow raise, nodding towards Renard’s limp body. “Are you done checking me out yet?”

Azriel’s stare remained on you for a few more moments before he followed your line of sight back to the male before him.

“Maybe if I didn’t have an incessant pest over my shoulder, I would be more successful.”

You stepped closer to him, a faint smell of night-chilled mist and cedar reaching your nose. “Maybe if you were actually good at anything besides harboring a grudge, you would’ve already been successful.”

Azriel didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Being a hypocrite isn’t a look fit for a lady.”

You let out an angry breath.

Too much time had passed with Renard missing. Soon enough, your father was bound to get suspicious— and Eris was bound to get worried as well. There wasn’t any doubt that Renard didn’t know much, not only because your father was a paranoid ruler, but because he failed to plan ahead more often than not. You didn’t need much information. All you needed was an idea of what Beron was planning, some inkling. Once you knew that, you could easily prevent it and ensure he didn’t gain any more power— ensure that Eris was set up to successfully overthrow him.

But Azriel seemed to be taking his time, attempting to get other information about your court that could prove useful for the Night Court.

“I think we’ve already established I’m past that title.”

Azriel looked at you. “Clearly.”

An all-too familiar simmering prickled at your skin and you clenched your jaw, matching the intensity of his glare with one of your own.

Renard let out a weak chuckle, blood staining his teeth as he lifted his chin.

“Listening to you two bicker is almost worse than the actual torture. You’re like a married couple. It’s pathetic.”

Azriel’s head snapped towards the male and a growl rumbled through the room. “Watch your mouth.”

But Renard only sneered, turning his bloodshot eyes to Azriel. “Big bad Shadowsinger, always lurking in the dark. Afraid to face your own inadequacies in the light, boy?”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, tendrils of shadows now swirling around him, agitated, buzzing with a need to move. Renard offered a sickly, bloodied grin as he observed their movement. “No wonder you hide behind those shadows—they're the only things that can stand being around you.”

There was a pause as Azriel’s gaze grew predatory. And then a small, involuntary sound left your lips.

It surprised you as much as it did Azriel, who turned to look at you with a furrowed brow and growing scowl. Your eyes widened a fraction at the sound, and within seconds, you let out a laugh.

The softness of it felt sinful, felt completely and utterly wrong— and something rippled throughout Azriel’s body at it, dug its way deep down into him until his wings felt slightly limp. From around his arms, his shadows slowed, coming to a curious, awe-filled stop. They began whispering, but he paid no attention. He pushed the foreign sensations away, his surroundings registering in his mind as he scowled.

“What the hell are you laughing at?”

You shook your head, another laugh escaping your lips at his face, contorted in frustration— in an irritated confusion of being so caught off guard. His wings flared out, twitching slightly in response to the repeated sound. “Nothing,” you said, “Your life just may be more pathetic than I thought if you’re getting psychoanalyzed by the male you’re torturing.”

Azriel’s irritation deepened as a grin grew on your face. “Shut up.”

A weak scoff drew your attention back to the bound male next to you.

“You shouldn’t be laughing, princess.” Renard’s eyes gleamed with malice as he shifted his gaze to you. “Pretending to be tough, but the only reason you’re here is because you’re too weak to do anything on your own. Everyone knows Beron’s little girl is just a pathetic, needy bitch.”

The laughter died in your throat almost instantly, jaw clenching as your amusement quickly faded into a red haze of annoyance. A flame flickered at your fingertips.

“Careful,” you warned. You moved to take a step towards Renard, but Azriel’s hand shot out instantly, stopping you with a firm grasp around your arm.

You glanced down at where his hand met your body before pulling yourself away with a scowl. “Can you just do your job so we can kill him already?”

Your voice had a bitter, agitated edge to it now, a drawl that sounded more whiny than it did threatening. Azriel folded his arms, a gleam in his eyes as he responded with a mocking, “Why? Did he hit a nerve?”

You growled, watching as the edges of his lips turned up slightly— just enough for you to notice, just enough for that hint of an arrogant smirk to bother you.

“I think I preferred when you stayed quiet and sulked in your shadows.”

Azriel continued to stare at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his face. A sense of annoyance prickled at your skin, mixed with something that tasted nauseatingly like embarrassment. Faintly, you felt the rush of heat threatening to spread to your cheeks.

You clenched your jaw harder, gaze flickering from Azriel’s amused face to Renard’s bruised, snickering one. You landed back on Azriel with a sneer.

“Wipe that stupid look off your face before I do it for you.”

Azriel watched in amusement as you stormed off, disappearing with another huff of annoyance and a vulgar gesture over your shoulder.

Renard turned to him with a vile grin. “I have to ask. What’s she like, Shadowsinger? We’ve all wanted to fuck her. I bet she’s just as desperate in bed as she is—”

Azriel's expression darkened instantly, shadows swirling violently around him as he flared his wings out, poised and deadly. He held Renard by the throat, grip unyielding, siphons glowing angrily. His voice was deadly calm as he muttered, "I warned you to watch your mouth."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Only a couple hours had passed when Azriel found you again in the Spring Court, standing in the small house he’d grown strangely accustomed to.

“You're here.”

You glanced over your shoulder, a sarcastic smile tugged at your lips. "Great detective skills on your part. Think you could use those with Renard?"

Unphased, Azriel rolled his eyes, the motion barely perceptible but unmistakable to someone who had spent as much time with him as you had. He moved with silent grace until he was standing right behind you, shadows hovering over his shoulders.

"What's all this?"

His tone was flat as he took in the various items you had strewn across the table.

You shrugged, not bothering to turn around. "I brought some things so I wouldn’t need to keep going back and forth."

You could feel his presence behind you, the warmth of his body caressing over your skin as he leaned closer. Azriel's gaze landed on a leather-bound notebook among your belongings.

"What's the notebook for?"

You stared at it for a moment, gingerly picking it up in your hands. There was a smirk on your lips as you turned to face him, face seemingly innocent and sweet.

"All my private thoughts and hopes and dreams. At night, I sit with it and write in cursive letters, 'I hope the shadowsinger shuts the fuck up and stops being nosy.'"

Your voice started light, teasing, but as you finished the sentence, your expression hardened into a glare. Azriel seemed anything but amused, and a muscle feathered in his cheek. He gave no verbal response, opting to keep his gaze trained on you until you let out a huff of annoyance.

He’d collected certain observations of you over the past few weeks.

You rolled your eyes in almost every conversation he held with you. You smelled like a crackling fire and forest pine branch, something so similar to fresh fall air. He’d seen you sneer more than he’d ever seen you smile— which was once, today, as Renard commented on his shadows and apparent self-loathing. But most of all, you hated prolonged eye-contact. It made you angry, frustrated— flustered even. Azriel wouldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt every time he watched your jaw clench, watched the tinge of pink appear on the apple of your cheeks.

“What?” You snapped, glaring at him through your lashes.

“Any particular reason you're more insufferable than usual?”

An eye roll. “Bite me.”

“Hmm.” A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “Do you want me to?”

Your mouth parted for a fleeting second. And then you scowled, nose scrunching at the movement. “I brought this to keep track of everything I find out about my father and Koschei.” You shoved the journal into Azriel’s chest with a little more force than necessary.

Azriel frowned, catching it effortlessly. His shadows flowed to his fingers, gliding across the cover as he flipped it open. He glanced at you through his lashes, a single brow arching in question. “This is empty.”

“Point proven,” you shot back, “Go back to Renard and find something useful. We’re running out of time.”

He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you. “I wasn’t aware we were on a deadline.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Another sigh of annoyance left your lips. "Beron is bound to realize that Renard isn't on some drunken bender anymore. He's going to come looking. I don't want there to be anything for him to find."

Azriel's lips quirked in a small, humorless smile. "I think I'm capable of hiding a trail or two."

"Are you sure about that?" You narrowed your eyes. "Because you barely seem able to get Renard to do anything besides read you like a boring, sad, self-loathing book."

Azriel let out a scoff, glancing to the side as he threw the journal back onto the table behind you. You clenched your jaw at the movement, at the sound of the thud it created as it fell onto the wood.

"Your insults are getting weaker, princess. Maybe you should take some lessons from him."

"Shut up," you snapped, the words coming out more petulant than you'd intended.

He crossed his arms across his chest. Your eyes fell to his hands, to the siphons that beamed with color in front of you. His shadows followed the movement, gliding down his forearms and around his wrists.

“What would happen if Beron found out you were sneaking around? That you were holding Renard?”

His voice drew your attention back to his face, where his eyes were narrowed in on you in a deep, curious, almost unsure gaze.

Your answer was swift, no hesitation. “He would kill me.”

Azriel wasn’t quite sure why his body reacted the way it did, why he felt himself flinch, why his wings seemed to twitch in discomfort. Whatever the reason, you noticed the reaction immediately, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly—- a motion nearly minuscule for the normal eye, but you were talented at picking up these things. Years of blending in gave you such abilities— and weeks around Azriel made it easier to read his tells.

There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy. You broke eye contact, dropping your eyes to the ground as you absentmindedly kicked your shoe at some tracked-in dirt.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you said nonchalantly, “My father has no ties to me beyond the unfortunate blood in my veins. I’m a bitch to be bred by the highest bidder.”

Something tightened in your chest as you paused for a moment. You blinked away the images that were flowing in through the corners of your mind. “I’m not worth any extra hassle.”

A silence followed. Your gaze was still on the ground, still on your black boots and the floor beneath you. A faint motion caught your eye and you watched as a tendril of Azriel’s shadow drifted to the ground— cascading down his ankle before it fell to the ground, stopping at your feet.

“I’d say,” Azriel murmured.

His words ran through you like a cold chill.

Azriel watched as something dark and fleeting passed through your eyes. You stood up straight, dropping your hands to grip the edges of the table as you leaned the small of your back against it. The faint smell of something burnt lingered in the air.

You tilted your head at him, gaze flickering between his eyes. And then a mocking, sly grin pulled at the edges of your lips. It felt unnatural. “Says the man who fucks me in the forest like a starved beast.”

Azriel’s hands slowly dropped from his chest. He took a step forward. A sense of tension crackled in the shared air, and you felt it within your stomach— a small flicker of fire.

“You let me.”

You shrugged. Heated pooled in your veins. “A good fuck is a good fuck.”

Azriel’s lips curled into a smirk, and his hand reached out to trace up your arm. You tightened your grip on the edge of the table as the touch traveled through your skin. “It doesn’t bother you that it’s me?”

There was something inherently dangerous about the way he spoke, about the taunting, accusatory tone his words now dripped with. He traced the movement of his hand with his eyes, continuing a path up your arm.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

His eyes flickered up to yours. You took a deep breath.

“Truthfully?” He leaned in closer. “I loathe it.”

His movements momentarily stilled, but you felt his shadows continue the path he’d started, felt as they slowly snaked up your arms.

“Yet you keep coming back.”

His eyes darkened, and then he let out a soft, cool hum. “A good fuck is a good fuck.”

By now, you were inches apart, the space between you a thin, taut with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. His shadows slithered around you, caressing your skin so delicately you could’ve sworn it mimicked a lover's touch— their darkness wrapping around your neck, weaving themselves through strands of your hair.

You bit your lip, and Azriel's hand moved to your mouth, the pad of his thumb slowly pulling your bottom lip down. "You said you don’t care about Koschei,” he murmured, “That you just want to help your family.”

He released your lip, thumb resting on your skin as he held your chin in his hand. He titled your head to his line of sight. “But Eris doesn’t know about Renard.”

"No, he does not.”

Your voice was quieter now, a low, soft tone that made Azriel almost groan in response. The feeling went straight through his body, coiling in his stomach and making his cock twitch.

"Would he disagree with the methods?"

Azriel’s lips were inches from yours, the space between you practically nonexistent.

You frowned at the question, feeling your chest tighten as his mouth hovered near yours. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the table turned iron, feeling the chipped wood beneath your fingertips.

"He would disagree with me interfering so boldly with my father.”

"Because it would get you killed," Azriel stated.

"Yes.”

His nose brushed against yours, and he met your gaze as his hand moved to wrap around the base of your neck.

"You’re willing to continue this even if it risks your life?"

You felt strangely exposed, naked in a way that you’d never felt before— not even when your clothes had been torn off and he was deep inside you, hands roaming your naked skin with a scorching touch and a ravenous mouth. This felt intimate. You didn’t like it.

You traced the features of his face, his gaze still laser-focused on you, intense and wanting. He had a few freckles across his cheeks that you’d never noticed, and the flecks of green in his eyes were overshadowed by his dilated pupils. You took a deep breath, finding the courage to meet his heavy gaze once more.

"Wouldn’t you do something similar?"

Azriel paused. A sense of conflict passed through his eyes as he pulled back slightly, just enough to scan your face entirely.

"No," he finally said. He hesitated for a moment. "I’d do the exact same thing."

There was a beat of silence. You stared at one another, breaths turning heavy, ragged. Your heart thundered beneath your ribs. Before you could come to your senses, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him into you. Azriel responded eagerly, mouth slotting over yours with a natural, practiced ease.

His hands fell from your neck, tracing down your waist until his palms gripped your hips, pulling your body further into his own. You let out a sound of pleasure at the feeling, at how his hands explored you, how the heat of his body seared against yours. You melted into his touch.

Azriel’s lips trailed along your jawline, and with a guttural groan, he suddenly spun you around, pulling you back against him with a possessive force, his arousal pressing hard into your beck.

The sudden change in position only fueled the haze in your mind and you placed your hands over his, following as he roamed over your curves. You threaded your fingers through his, roughly guiding his palm up your chest, moving to cup it over your breast.

His lips nipped at your ear from behind.

"This change in wardrobe is interesting," he murmured, voice husky and rough with a delicious sense of desire.

You tilted your head slightly, reveling in the feeling of his breath against your skin. "Don't like it?"

He chuckled lowly, his hands cupping your breast roughly. “Don't particularly favor how difficult it seems to take off."

The sensation of his touch sent a rush of heat coursing through you. Every inch of you burned with need— an all-consuming, humiliating need.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned into his touch, head falling back onto his shoulders as his lips found the skin beneath your ear.

You raised a hand to tangle your fingers into Azriel’s hair, your eyes opening once more as his touch grew hungrier, rougher.

The view of the table slowly came into focus. Your gaze fell to the notebook, its empty pages seemed to mock you with their blankness, and you blinked as a sense of sanity washed through you like a cold tide.

With a jolt, you pushed yourself away from Azriel, prying his hands off your body as you broke the heated embrace.

Azriel blinked, shadows rushing back to him as if startled by the sudden pull away. His hair was tousled, lips still tingling from the kiss.

"What is it?" he asked, breathing heavy.

You took a moment to compose yourself, patting down your disheveled hair with quick hands. "I’m bored. This isn’t doing it for me," you lied. You swallowed as Azriel’s stared at you with a furrowed brow. "Just go work on Renard."

You left no room for him to respond. Within the blink of an eye, you had disappeared from Azriel’s sight.

His hands ran through his hair, attempting to shake off the lingering effects of the moment with you. The air still felt suffocating, still smelled of you and the sweet, addicting scent of your arousal. He scowled to himself.

His shadows slowly moved down his frame, falling to the ground and gliding across the floors. His eyes fell down to their movement, watching as they wrapped around a foot of the table, as they made their way up to the tabletop.

He squinted at where they landed, reaching a finger out to the area that they traced. There, etched into the wood, was a faint outline of a burnt handprint— a perfect replica of your palm.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Even with the familiar scene of pine and earth, returning home to the Forest House– to your court— never brought you a sense of comfort. But today, with the heat of your blush still spreading through your cheeks, you welcomed the quiet, empty halls.

The soft patter of paws drew your attention as Laney approached with her head lowered. A small smile grew on your lips as she nudged you with her wet nose, but quickly the smile dropped as a small whine escaped her.

Kneeling down, you gently ran your fingers across her coat. "What's wrong, girl?"

She only nudged your hand once more and turned, leading you deeper into the house.

A sense of foreboding settled over you as you followed her through the corridors. Your steps quickened when you spotted Flint lying outside Eris’s room. The dread in your chest grew heavier. Eris had a special connection to Flint. There were only a few situations in which he’d refuse the company.

Your face fell as you pushed the door to Eris’s room, heart clenched at the sight before you.

Eris sat on a small, velvet bench at the end of his bed, his head snapping back to the sound of his door opening. His expression quickly softened when he met your eyes, and you watched as his shoulders slumped. “It’s just you.”

You gave him a small nod as he turned back around, your gaze falling to the blood-soaked shirt he wore, the crimson color spreading throughout the thin fabric. Flint and Laney pushed past you, paws pattering on the ground as they entered the room. A heavy feeling settled in your chest, something entirely dark and queasy.

Eris grumbled as Flint neared him. “Shit. Y/N, close the godsdamn door.”

“I-” You snapped out of your daze, quickly closing the door before rushing over to him, gently pushing the hounds aside. “I’m sorry.”

You sat down next to him. “They just want to help you,” you said quietly.

Eris sighed, a deep, weary sound. “I know. I just—”

Your eyes wandered to the hounds who had settled down nearby. Such regal, cunning, smart creatures. You’d never think them caring enough to sense such pain, yet here they were, eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the situation. Flint let out a small whimper, laying his head on his paws.

You looked back at Eris, slumped with his head in his hands, spine curved in a manner that made his wounds pour deeper into his shirt. A similar thought made its way through your mind. Your brother, regal and intelligent, a male who carried so much, who bore his father’s wrath time and time again– a male with a warm heart somewhere deep within the anger he radiated. The heavy feeling in your chest grew, began to fester into something fighting between fury, loathing, and suffocating sadness.

“What happened?”

Eris didn’t lift his head, voice muffled by his hands. “He found me talking to my men. It wasn’t anything. Wasn’t about Koschei, wasn’t even about him.”

There was an exhaustion in his voice that dripped with every word.

“He was feeling particularly upset today,” Eris finished as he lifted his shirt, revealing the full extent of the damage. The lashes were deep, and you could see the dark, almost blackened edges where your father’s special concoction had seeped into the wounds. Eris bit back a groan, jaw clenched tightly.

That heavy feeling in your chest turned hot, burning— all consuming. So many things ran through your mind, overwhelming, crushing floods of emotions drowning your senses.

You registered the anger first, the empty, crushing pressure of it, a feeling you’d grown too familiar with. Anger at your father, at the situation you were all trapped in, at the sheer unfairness of it all.

And then it was guilt. Dark, suffocating, guilt. Renard missing had probably put your father on edge. Not only had you lied about it, kept it a secret, but you hadn’t been there when Eris needed you most. Instead, you’d been entangled with Azriel, a male who had no respect for you, for your family, who would so willingly watch your brother suffer. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. There was nothing you could say, nothing that would make this situation okay, that would take away Eris’s pain– that would prevent it from happening all over again. You swallowed.

“Eris-”

He lifted his head and turned to you a resigned expression, eyes slightly wide with desperation. "I’m going to call it all off. We can’t meet with them now, not for a while.”

You didn’t need to ask for clarification, you already knew who he was talking about, what alliance he was referring to. You shook your head. “No, we need-”

"It’s too dangerous," he interrupted, voice urgent and pleading. "He’s watching everyone more closely now. If he finds out you're involved, I don't know what he'll do."

You shook your head faster, a hard sense of determination flaring in your chest. "We can’t, I can't. I need to figure something out. I need to help you."

Eris sat up straighter, grimacing at the motion as he reached out, his hand finding a firm but gentle on your wrist. "You need to stay safe, Y/N. Please. Nothing else matters."

You looked at him, brows furrowed and throat tight. Your strong, protective brother now reduced to pleading with you. You took a deep, ragged breath. “It all matters. I need to help you, okay? I need to make sure you have the upper hand."

Eris just shook his head, shook it so firmly and desperately that you could’ve sworn he was a teenager again, hand on yours as he scolded you for breaking something.

"Please," he repeated, his voice breaking. “Just listen to me."

A wave of helplessness washed over you, and now you felt small again, felt as if you’d shrunk in place. Your mind traveled back, throwing you into memories where you’d hide away from your father, fearing his disappointed hand, desperate for approval but receiving only pain. The same feeling bubbled in your chest.

You swallowed hard. "I can't just stand by and do nothing."

Eris's eyes softened. "You want to help me? Stay safe.”

You frowned, biting the inside of your cheek. The words you wanted to say caught in your throat. You couldn’t promise him that. You couldn’t lie. So instead, you turned your attention to his back, to the angry wounds that marred his skin.

"Here, let me help you," you murmured. He gave you a long look, then nodded, slowly moving his body to expose more of his back to you.

You moved your hand to his back. Heat surged through you, flickering at your fingertips. Your hands shook, trembled as you attempted to focus. You tried to channel it, to control that divine fire within you, but the energy was wild and unsteady. A self-loathing bite gnawed at you.

"I can't—" you whispered, the words laced with frustration.

Renard’s's taunting voice echoed in your mind. Too weak to do anything on your own.

Eris turned to look at you again, calm words breaking through the rising storm you felt inside your chest. "It's okay,” he said, “I can do it."

"I'm sorry.”

He shook his head at you, a small smile gracing his features. “There's nothing to be sorry for.”

There was something about the fact that he was able to smile, that he pulled such a gesture out for you, that made the bitter loathing inside of you spread even faster.

"Just stay with me?” Eris asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Of course.”

With one hand, he held yours, and the other twisted over his back. You watched as his own hands began to heat up, glowing with a controlled, steady flame.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

All you felt was anger. All you saw was red.

Memories flashed in your mind, one after another. Eris’s bloodied wounds and the far-off look in his eyes, your mother hid away from the world and the echoes of her crying, being forced to clean the floors of your brother’s blood, your paralyzing inadequacies. It all twisted inside you, each image wrapping itself around your ribs, wounding itself tight enough to make you struggle to breathe.

You weren’t sure how you got here, but the smell of blood in the air tasted sweet on your tongue. Renard lay slumped in the metal chair. Despite his appearance, a mocking grin spread across his split lips as you entered.

“Come back for more, have you?”

The sight of him, significantly more battered than the last time you’d seen him, brought a welcomed sense of satisfaction. At your sides, you clenched your fists until they were white.

“I’m done playing,” you said, your voice a low, dangerous growl. “Tell me what you know.”

Renard’s grin widened, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I'm trembling in fear,” he mocked, “What's a dolled-up whore like you going to do?”

Something inside you snapped.

With a snarl, you lunged forward, hands slamming down onto the metal chair. All the anger, all the pain, everything you’d been holding back, surged through you. The metal beneath your palms began to heat up, the sensation almost soothing in its intensity— cathartic, even.

Renard’s eyes widened. “I already told you both, fuck, I already gave you all I know!” he shouted, painful groans leaving his mouth as the hot metal below him began to bite at his exposed skin. “We don’t know anything.”

“You’re a liar!”

In the back of your mind, you grasped at your resolve, grasped at the strength you needed to keep your desperation hidden— all attempts proved futile. You grabbed Renard’s neck, fingers digging into his flesh as a simmering heat radiated down your arm. “Tell me what you know!”

Renard’s screams filled the room, his body writhing in agony. “I don’t—” he choked out, voice hoarse with pain. You stared at your hand, stared at the flicker of flames that began had to grow, watched as they moved to Renard’s skin–

But before the flames could fully spread, black smoke enveloped your wrist, wrapping around it with a smothering, extinguishing touch.

Not smoke—shadows.

A hand grabbed you next, pulling you back with a rough hand.

You pulled against the familiar grip. “Let me go, you foul-bred animal!”

Azriel’s voice was a low growl in your ear. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You struggled against him, but his hold was firm.

Within a blink, you were winnowed to an open area in the forest, the sudden transition leaving your senses reeling. A cool breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. You blinked. And then you pushed Azriel off, staggering back with the force of the motion. Your heart pounded with residual fury, a trickling sense of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“What do you not understand about 'let me go'?” you spat, “Is there something in those bat genetics of yours that makes you lose brain functioning at random intervals?”

Azriel’s didn’t budge. “Do not go back there.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Shadowsinger. I think it’s time I handle this on my own.”

“Handle it?” he echoed, his shadows curled at his fists. “You were about to burn him alive, losing control like some child throwing a tantrum.”

The color drained from your face. “And you’re the expert voice on self-control?” The taste of resentment lingered on your tongue, sour and sickly familiar. “Where was this energy when you slaughtered and tortured my brother’s men? When they were being controlled, when they knew nothing?”

Azriel’s wings twitched almost imperceptibly. Your voice fell slightly to a tone lower, more raw.

“Was what I was doing truly that bad, or do you only care that it’s me doing it?”

There was a beat. Azriel looked away before finding your eyes again. He shook his head, a small scowl on his face. “What are you implying?”

Something inside you shifted as you stared at him, every detail seemingly magnified, as if your emotions had sharpened your perception at last. You’d noticed this intensity around him, wrote it off as the thrill of an adversary. But you realized now, as Azriel stood before you, that he was something else entirely: a stark embodiment of everything you loathed, everything you sought to avoid, and everything you secretly craved.

He wielded cruelty with impunity, praised for his ruthlessness, while his family basked in the warmth of love and freedom, despite their own moral shortcomings. And now he stood before you, a bastard-born nobody who had stumbled into luck, blind to anything beyond his own skewed perceptions.

There was a defiant, knowing glint in your eyes, as if something had been confirmed— as if that you'd found the answer to some question you’d asked for centuries.

“You are so desperately searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as you’ve made me out to be.”

Azriel's eyes narrowed slightly. His demeanor remained outwardly composed, a practiced facade of stoicism and indifference, but the glow of his siphons gave him away.

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

You raised an eyebrow, fists slowly unfurling at your sides. Your breath was more even now.

“I understand more than you think. You’ve been waiting for me to slip, to prove that I’m just like—”

“Beron.”

You paused, slighting flinching at how much contempt was fit into one word.

Eris. You were going to say Eris. Not Beron. Not your father.

A flash of hurt crossed your face and something in Azriel’s chest tightened. His shadows fell into a frozen wreath around his arms.

“Right,” you scoffed, moving to brush past him. “Then I better do a good job and prove you right.”

Azriel stopped you with a casual sidestep, wings flaring out to block your path further. “Do not go back there.”

“I will do whatever the hell I please,” you hissed, meeting his gaze defiantly. There was a burning hatred in your eyes that he’d never felt before, something more foul and rotten than what had been there before.

Azriel’s jaw clenched even further as he let out an angry breath. The strength of your gaze alone triggered his hand to instinctively wander to the dagger on his hip, to the cool steel of Truth-Teller. His shadows curled around his fingers, threading through them as if calling him back to reality. He blinked, and then pulled his hand away, flexing it as he looked at you once more.

“Why?”

Azriel's voice was probing, his gaze searching— scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you itch.

“Why what?” you snapped back, your tone sharper than you intended, the itch spreading, making you want to pace or scream, anything to shake off his intense stare, to rid yourself of the tightening in your chest.

“You’re desperate. This wasn’t as thought out as you tend to be.”

You let out a dry, humorless laugh, feeling the sound scrape against your throat. "Because you know me so well?" The words felt like ash on your tongue, a bitter taste lingering in your mouth.

“Yes,” he stated simply, his eyes piercing into yours still. “We’re allies. Explain yourself.”

"I was just trying to pick up your slack and get information." The lie rolled off your tongue naturally.

But Azriel wasn’t buying it. "No, that’s not it," he countered, "We’re working for the same side. There is no reason for you to go off like this."

You gritted your teeth, the pressure making your jaw ache. “We are not working for the same side.”

“We have an alliance.”

His calm demeanor only fueled your frustration. Your hands fell into a familiar position at your side, curled into tight fists, your nails biting into your palms.

“Your alliance with Eris is to support him when he takes over the throne. But when it comes to Koschei, there is no doubt in my mind you’re willing to undermine your allies to get rid of his threat. And in doing so, you’ll endanger me and my family.”

Your voice was rising, the words spilling out in a rush of pent-up emotion. “ I want to— I need to know everything before any moves are made. My brother needs an edge to stay ahead, and he sure as hell isn’t going to get it if he’s playing by the rules and having to defend his every move because of this stupid agreement.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening to near black. “Eris wouldn’t need to defend himself if he wasn’t a vile snake.”

Rage boiled through you, its fiery grip yanking onto your stomach and your chest.The intensity of it casted a hazy glow, distorting your vision with its searing heat.

“I am fed up with your little group thinking that we need to beg for your forgiveness. Tell me, does it get cold on all of that moral high ground? Does the high horse ever get uncomfortable?”

You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, the contact sending a jolt up your arm. Azriel's hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly.

"Perhaps Eris feels the need to beg for forgiveness because of the acts he’s committed.”

“And what has he done? Besides refusing to give in to every whim?”

You tried to yank your hand free, but his grip held firm. Your pulse pounded in your temples, a steady, throbbing beat. You felt that familiar prickling feeling grow across your skin, a simmering fire creeping up your arm.

“He left Morrigan in those woods to die.”

He dropped your hand, the action almost dismissive, as if he couldn’t bear to touch you anymore. You pulled it back into you and took a step back, shaking your head. Of course. The thought echoed in your mind, bringing a bitter realization that settled like a stone in your stomach.

“It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”

Azriel’s expression hardened, centuries of a grudge etched into every line of his face. His shadows danced around him, dark tendrils coiling and writhing like live fire across his body. You felt it radiating off him in waves— a palpable hatred that made your skin prickle. It was a feeling so intense you wondered how he had managed to lessen it before, how he could bear to be inside you, even with you turned away.

“My brother didn’t put that nail in her. He didn’t touch her at all.”

Azriel’s eyes were hard as steel. “He left her there. Naked, scared, and dying.”

“He gave Morrigan mercy in the only way he knew how.”

“You call that mercy?”

“Yes! Eris was just as much of a child as Morrigan was.”

Every word felt rancid now, burned like bile in your throat, fueled by a protectiveness born from years of standing by your brother's side. You stepped closer to Azriel, not bothering to hold back the flames that now licked at your skin. His shadows coiled around his arms, formed an almost protective barrier around his clenched fists.

“Do you know what my father would have done had Eris touched her, helped her at all? He didn’t take lightly to the disrespect and humiliation she passed. He would have made a public show and slaughtered her. Just as he later did with Jesminda.”

Azriel stayed quiet, stayed eerily still as he watched you. You didn’t expect a response. A new emotion curled itself into your gut, something much heavier than anger, than rage. You thought about Eris, thought about the lashes on his back, thought about how he used to stay awake at night to wander the halls, listening outside of your parent’s chambers in case your mother needed help. You thought about how he’d helped you bury Jesminda, how he’d kept a figurine of Lucien’s to give to you.

No matter what he did, or what you did for him, he would never be free— not truly. Not from his past and the assumptions people have made of him. He would always be cruel. And you, in association, would always be evil. Vile. It was in your family's nature. You felt foolish for thinking otherwise, for not learning how to take your rage and make it something useful, forge it into a weapon, train it like a beast to eat the remaining shreds of your empathy.

Eris deserved better. He was better than Rhysand. He was better than the male that stood before you.

"But none of this matters to you," you continued, your voice tinged with bitterness and resignation. "Even if it's the truth.”

Azriel’s wings twitched. You didn’t need further confirmation that your words held true. He would never accept a version of that night besides his own, because a version that included the truth would force him to see Eris as something other than a wicked, evil male. As long as your brother was worse than Azriel, as long as there was someone worse than him, he’d never have to face the fact that he wasn’t as good of a male as he claimed to be.

"You make excuses for your brother, but where are yours?" Azriel finally spoke. "You've done cruel things. You've hurt people. Killed people." His gaze flickered to your fists wreathed in flames. "Burned them alive," he added.

The fire at your arms grew in response to his words. You cocked your head. And then you ignored him. "You threatened my life. At that High Lord’s meeting— you lost control, put my brother in a chokehold, and threatened my life."

Azriel's nostrils flared and his siphons began to shine with a dangerous, angry glow.

"I dare you to live up to your word, Shadowsinger," you challenged, taking a slow step towards him. "I'm here. I've been here.” His eyes traced your every movement.

“And yet, you've just fucked me."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a mix of anger and shame that he quickly masked behind a veil of indifference. But you saw it, felt it, reveled in it.

"You're weak, Azriel," you said, voice low and calm. "A slave to your anger, to your impulses, to your High Lord. You have always been weak."

He blinked at the sound of his name falling from your lips, a wave of uncertainty washing through his face. But his eyes stayed on you, still burning, still angry. They simmered hotter now, heavier with a new strain of contempt.

Your breath escaped in a half-hearted chuckle. "It's a pity," you said, shaking your head slightly. Your flame dwindled to a faint firefly glow. "To see such a pretty face marred by blind devotion."

With one final glance, you turned on your heel and winnowed away. You didn’t see Azriel again for two more weeks.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

←Part Three

guys.... the next part is one of my favorites tehehehe cause its mainly just azriels perspective and where his mind is at. PLUS this is where those content warnings start to get lighter :DDDD

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen

azriel tag list: @thisiskaylin @serrendiipty

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader angst #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel angst #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #malice series

331 notes · View notes

rip-quizilla · 2 days

Text

Jinx

Janitor!Eddie X Teacher!Reader

700ish words

It was your first year teaching at Hawkins Middle School, and you’d already failed to establish a respectable work-life balance.

You were new to this career field, eager to prove yourself a capable educator. You always arrived early, always left late. Often, you wound up leaving after everyone but the administrators had already gotten home, undoubtedly to prepare dinner for their families or take care of household chores. You had no one waiting for you at home but your cats, so heading home around 5pm was the norm for you.

Today, you sat grading papers at your desk while Van Morrison played through your headphones. You’d finally settled into a rhythm, methodically bobbing your head to the beat as you drew check marks and X’s with a pink ballpoint pen when suddenly, something in your empty classroom moved out the corner of your eye.

You let out a startled yelp, joined by a twin curse from the ponytailed custodian who’d intruded upon your quiet room. He looked just as surprised as you were, eyes wide with headphones blasting what sounded like the screech of metal guitar from around his neck where he’d quickly shoved them off his ears.

“Shit-” he breathed, chest letting out a heaving breath, “-Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“I didn’t see-” you began at the same time as him, apologies spilling out of you both simultaneously.

“I shouldn’t have been-”

“My headphones were-”

“Should’ve been paying more-”

“Wasn’t paying attention, I’m-”

“Sorry.”

You spoke as one voice, that last word filling the empty classroom. Slowly, an amused smile broke out across the custodian’s features, his idle hands stuffing themselves into the pockets of his black work pants. His eyes flicked over you at the speed of light before he broke the silence.

“Jinx.”

You chuckled quietly, pausing your music and setting your own headphones down on your desk.

“Guess I owe you a soda.” you retorted, your smiling voice made small by the overpowering after-hours quiet.

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I never say no to a soda.” Then he got to work, grabbing the small plastic garbage bin from where it sat by your door and pulling the thin plastic lining from it.

You returned to your grading, but left the headphones off your ears out of respect for the presence in your room. You didn’t want to appear rude, after all.

The custodian did the same, leaving his headphones around his neck as he performed various routine tasks around the room. Even from the opposite corner of the space, you could hear his music singing out at top volume from where it rested across his decolletage. Harsh screams and rage tore through the soft-looking spongey speakers, and you were struck by how much they were contrasted by the pleasant air that followed this man who was currently sweeping up crumpled notebook fringe from beneath a wooden desk.

You peered a little closer at his gray uniform shirt where a little embroidered patch sat stitched to his breast pocket. Eddie, it read. You committed the name to memory.

The two of you continued your work wordlessly until he finished, and just before he exited the room he shot you a friendly smile accompanied by a nod of his head.

“Have a good night.”

Those eyes were breathtaking; they were unwavering in their contact with yours. You nodded and grinned, trying not to sound quite as charmed as you felt.

“You too.” you said.

The next day, you’d needed to leave as soon as the final bell rang. Eddie had been slightly disappointed to find your door closed with the light off when he’d gotten to your classroom, but when he’d unlocked the door and flicked on the light to reveal a sweating glass bottle of Coca-Cola on the desk closest to the door, he could’ve sworn his heart did a backflip.

A pink post-it note sat stuck to the surface of the desk next to the bottle.

Eddie, soda’s all yours.

P.S.-per the rules of jinx, I can’t talk until you say my name.

You’d signed your name at the bottom, and Eddie admired the way the ink from your pen bled into a little starburst where the condensation had pooled into a drop at the base of the bottle and dripped to your note below. He peeled the note off, folding it carefully into a small square and sticking it in his pocket. He opened the bottle, lifted it to his lips and drank. It tasted sweet and bright, bubbly and full of unexpected possibilities.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb

348 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 1 day

Text

Let Your Hair Down

Hello and welcome to the second part of Put Your Records On!

I think you’re realllly gonna enjoy it 🪩😈

Check out our Patreon for early access and 170+ exclusive writings!

WC- 3.6k

Warnings- exhibitionism, unprotected sex, it's dirty and I know ya'll eat that up

Being pulled into a bathroom stall with Harry Styles was the last thing Y/N would have ever imagined, but here she was. The man pressing her against the wall with his hand up the slit of her dress, a soft moan leaving her mouth as his nimble fingers found her clit with little problem. Maybe Harry had done this often, or he was just naturally gifted to know a woman’s body, but she didn’t care. For the first time in a long time, she felt really fucking good.

“Fuck.” She whimpered, feeling lips drag down her neck. Her own hand reached between them to cup over his cock, his own noise of pleasure vibrating her as she felt him. It got a gasp from her, the fucking size of it against her palm. He was big. Big in the way she’d not experienced, and thick. Immediately she knew that she needed to feel it better, to take him inside of her and let him do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as she got to experience it. “You’re so big.” The words were higher pitched, Y/N panting as she felt a finger slip into her.

“I know, sweetheart.” He cooed. “I’ll make sure you can handle it.” Y/N was sure he would. Nothing about him even hinted at the fact that he’d do anything but make her feel incredible. “Hate that you’ve had t’deal with little dicks and people who don’t know how to use them. Makes me sick thinking of them wasting such a pretty girl’s pussy.” His mouth was filthy, she was finding out. Thank god. He didn’t know how badly she needed a proper fuck, one where she’d be thinking about it for days after. Her purse had so thoughtfully been hung up on the back of the stall door, the empty bathroom full of the muffled music and their kisses.

“Haven’t felt good in so long.” She admitted, grinding her cunt into his hand. “Make me feel good, please. Need it, need you.” Who the fuck cared if she sounded desperate? She was. SO fucking desperate that she was allowing him to fuck her here because she couldnt wait. He’d offered to take her to his place but she couldn’t wait that long to be touched.

“I will, needy girl. Promise. M’not like those other guys…Gonna make sure you cum for me.” Harry was on a mission, it seemed. His palm smacked against her clit as he added another finger, making her whimper into the air. Teeth scraped against her neck as his free hand tugged the straps down of her dress, revealing her bare breasts. “Fuck me, you little minx. Look at you.”

Harry was in awe of her, how pretty she was. How perfectly she fit into his hands, how she looked just like what he’d dreamed about- if not better. He couldn’t help himself, leaning his head down and pressing sloppy kisses to the curves of her tits before taking a nipple into his mouth. The reward was feeling her pussy pulse around his fingers, her hand in his hair as he lapped at her breast. The swollen little nipple was taken lightly between his teeth as he sucked, making her keen. Sure, he was a bit drunk , but he would never be able to forget this. She made such pretty noises, tasted so good on his tongue, and her cunt was vice tight around his fingers. Thankfully she was more than wet, making a mess on his fingers as he fucked them into her needy little hole.

Y/N’s eyes closed as her head leaned against the wall. The man was bent slightly, sucking at her tits and making her close to cumming just from that. It had been ages since she’d orgasmed from fingering, and nipple play hadn’t always done much for her but the way Harry was doing it, she’d never felt something more erotic in her life. “H-Harry, please.” She pleaded. “I want you inside me. Fuck me, I need it.” As much as the woman wanted to test out his mouth, she was gagging for his cock. “I’ll suck you another time, I promise I just…” A sniffle left her. “I feel empty. I need more.”

Instead of being offended, he hissed as he pulled away from her breasts. A string of spit that connected his lips to them broke as he rose back to full height, standing over her as his fingers fucked into her and scissored slightly, making her cling on to him. “Fingers aren’t enough for you, I know. Just needed to get you stretched.” His nose brushed hers as he took her for a sloppier kiss. “Tiny cunt wouldn’t be able to take it otherwise. Still have my doubts…” The faux pout made her whine.

“I can, I can take it. I promise.” She swallowed, looking up at him in desperation. “Make it fit, please. I just want it in me, don’t care if it hurts.” It was true. Y/N would even like it if it hurt a little, as long as he got himself inside of her. “

“You sure, baby?” He taunted, watching her eyes glaze over as his fingers fucked into her harder. The sound was sloppy and filthy, knowing how wet she was getting for him, but he lived for shit like this. Loved that he finally got to meet Y/N and do the things he’d been thinking about for months. She was just his type. “I really don’t know if such a tight hole can take my cock, no matter how sopping wet it is.”

“I can.” A mix of the desperation and drunkenness made her eyes water. “Give it to me, please. I’m begging you, fuck me. I’ll be so good for you, you can cum in me- I’m, birth control.” Her words stuttered as she pleaded with him. Harry cooed at her, clicking his tongue at the way she was losing it.

“Oh, sweet little thing. No need to cry yet. I’ll be nice and give it to you.” He promised. “Undo my trousers for me.” This was quite possibly the most irresponsible thing for him to do and he knew it. Taking a girl he’d had a crush on into the bathroom at an after part and fucking her raw was something that would make his manager burst blood vessels, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was her snug cunt wrapped around him as he fucked her, he wanted to empty his balls in her and let her feel it drip down her thighs as they left the bathroom.

The girl was obedient, taking his pants down to find a lack of briefs on him too. Harry’s knack for not wearing underpants had struck again, but this time it was a positive. Her smaller hand wrapped around him, stroking as their mouths buttoned together again, Harry letting out a grunt as her thumb rubbed over his weepy slit. He knew he’d been attracted to her for a while but having her hands on him now was sending him into overdrive. His hand curled around her throat as he moved his hips, fucking himself in her hand and licking into her mouth, desperate for more of her taste.

There was only so much he could take, though. If he had it his way, they wouldn't be rushed, but considering it was a public restroom and there was a chance of getting caught he was aching to get inside of her. “You like to listen to directions?” Harry did love a person who was just as willing to please as he was. Being worshiped and doing the worshiping were both things he loved, but it was nice to see someone pine for him. There was a reason he loved his job as much as he did.

“Sometimes.” Her eyes blinked up at him slowly, allowing his hand to slide up and his still wet fingers into her mouth. The man rubbed them over her tongue, pulling them out slowly before pushing back in. Y/N listened very well to directions so far, even if her eyes twinkled with the mischief he’d be happy to explore with her. The way she was sucking his fingers clean was a clear indication on how well they get along.

“I do love a bit of a challenge, but tonight I need you t’be good for me. We’ve got to be quick which…” He breathed out as she dragged her thumb over his slit again. “Is a shame, considering I want to spend hours on you. But since you seem so keen on trying to take me, m’gonna let you try.”

Y/N hummed against his digits, real disappointment painting her features as he finally tugged them out. It was embarrassing to admit how much she’d liked doing that, fucking him with her hand and sucking on his fingers, seeing the dark glint in his gaze. But she wanted him in any way she could, and she wasn’t about to refuse him. “I can take it. You’ll make it fit.”

A low growl echoed in the room as he placed his hands under her thighs, adjusting her dress to be pushed open before picking her up. It took her by surprise, the girl squeaking and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she was suddenly lifted and pinned against the wall but- fuck. Fuck, this was hot. She went to say just that, but he beat her to it. “Need you to try and be quiet for me, okay?” His lips pecked hers, far more chaste and sweet compared to the other kisses. “M’gonna make sure you feel good.” With her body snug against the wall and her legs around his hips, he released a thigh to guide himself to her entrance.

In all her sex experiences, she couldn’t recall being this excited. Feeling him rub the tip through her slit, she was nearly buzzing in anticipation. The help of the alcohol reduced her nerves thankfully, because if she was sober she’d be losing her mind about him holding her up- but right now, all she could think about was the press of his head breaching her hole.

He was right. He was big, almost too much so, but Y/N liked the feeling. They’d been feeding into something dirtier with that talk, but her sharp intake of breath made the man pause, looking at her for any sign to stop. “I know, sweetheart. It’s a lot. Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please don’t.” Her eyes widened. “No, I need it. Just- just push more in. I’m okay.” She wasn’t lying. Yeah, it did hurt a little but she could already feel herself adjusting. Going slow was just prolonging the pain. “It’s just been a while.”

Harry liked the sound of that. Being the one to break her dry spell was an honor. “That’s alright.” He nuzzled his nose against hers as he let himself push further in. “Think you’ve just got a snug little cunt that’s needed a proper fuck. M’sorry it took us so long to meet.” It really was a shame. “Could’ve fixed this problem so much sooner.”

In all truth, Harry had a feeling he’d end up in a situation like this with Y/N. He’d had a crush for a while, sure, but he was ruthless when it came to the people he wanted to pursue, even if it didn’t seem like it. If it had been any other events in the last few months he’d have blown them off, but fate really did make them wait until now to indulge in one another- and he’d make sure that it wasn’t the last.

“There we are, baby. Just let me in.” He coaxed, feeling her engulf him. “Almost there. M’so proud of you for taking it all. Know it isn’t easy, but you feels so fucking good wrapped around me.” Perfect for him, really. Hot, tight, slippery, hugging him the way he’d needed, he finally got all the way inside before grinding up into her. Y/N was at her limit, thankful he wasn’t a millimeter bigger otherwise she truly couldn’t have taken it- but this was perfect.

“Please, go ahead.” She pleaded, threading her fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck. “Fuck me, I know you can give me what I need.”

And hell, he was up for the challenge.

There was no way to describe how it felt between them. Electric, maybe? Erotic? His deep thrusts as he began to truly fuck into her, the sound of her wet cunt being thrust into and her muffled moans echoing off the stall walls, it felt like cloud nine. Her hair was a wreck behind her and she knew it, but there wasn’t a care in the world other than getting her fill of Harry.

He was watching her with an intensity that she couldn’t match to anything else. Maybe it was just a part of his personality, that intent stare and all of his attention being on the person he was with, but having him watch her every move, every shift of her lips, it made her even more aroused. Her head rolled back, resting against the wall as he bounced her on his cock, reveling in the feeling of being filled up over and over again.

Harry himself, he was trying his hardest not to orgasm too early. He was fucking her raw, feeling every inch of her silky cunt sheath around his bare cock with every movement. God, she was so wet and hot on his skin, and he knew he’d be thinking about this night for the rest of his life. There was no way he could let this be a one and done with how he was feeling. “You’re perfect.” He whispered, lips finding her exposed neck as he did the work for them. Feeling her fingers tug slightly at his hair only fueled him further. “Feel so fucking good, making a mess on my cock. Gonna make me walk out there with my cock wet in my pants, hm? Dripping down to my balls, gonna smell like you all night.” And he’d enjoy every single second of it. If it wasn’t gross, he’d spend the next few days with her smell on him.

Maybe he’d just have to talk his way into having her come over and roll all over his sheets so her scent could linger.

“Yeah.” She answered with a whimper. “And I-I want your cum dripping out of me when we walk out.” Y/N didn’t know where she found the guts to say that, but she had a hunch it was a mix of the lemon drops and Harry’s cock deep in her tummy. “No one’s gonna know but I will. I’ll feel it the whole time.”

The words had him working faster, harder. It was hard not to get even more frenzied when she said that shit out loud, the thing he’d been hoping for all night. “Fuck, m’gonna give it to you. I’ll give you every drop.” His teeth grazed her neck, not thinking clearly as he pulled the skin into his mouth and sucked harshly. He heard her gasp, her fingers finding more of his hair and pushing him further into her neck. So he did it again, a bit further up as he held her still and fucked up into her. Completely entangled in each other, this was the best he’d ever felt at an after party and there were doubts it could get much better than this.

Y/N had a thing for love bites, but she’d never expected Harry to go for that. Feeling the sting of it while he fucked her pushed her closer to her orgasm, the feeling of her clit rubbing against his torso and his cock digging right into her, it was hard to keep from moaning louder than she should have.

Harry didn’t really care if they got caught anymore. The thrill of it was hotter than hell, someone walking in and finding out he was fucking the prettiest new IT Girl in the bathrooms after winning awards. A celebratory fuck and the beginning of something he was very excited to continue. Her moans stuttered as his thrusts punched into her, legs tightening around him as he licked over the tender spots on her neck.

“Harry, Harry- oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum.” She tried to whisper but failed. How could she care about volume when she was having the best fuck of her life?

“Good, that’s what we want. Isn’t it?” He hummed, hands tightening on her thighs while he continued his pace. It could be felt on his prick, every little quiver of her hole as she got closer and closer to the edge. “Don’t have to worry about not finishing when you’re with me. If we had more time you’d have at least t-three.” His own words stuttered as he could feel the heat crawling up his stomach and his balls tightening. “Do it for me, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock, want t’put it away wet. Don’t you? Cum for me.”

Y/N did, she wanted to make sure she gave him what he wanted. His words encouraging her, his lips kissing under her hear tenderly, his cock hitting her where she needed, her swollen clit rubbing against his torso over and over again, she couldn’t help it. As hard as it had been in her other situations, Harry made it so fucking easy to get to that point, whimpers leaving her throat as he talked her through her orgasm.

“There we go, that’s my girl. Fuck, you’re drenching me. Feels so good, you’re doing so fucking good.” He felt it as she came, a light gush making him even more wet. A hiss left his teeth, holding her body as it got a little weaker. “Oh, that’s what we needed. You’re perfect. I’m gonna give you e-everything I have.”

Y/N was hazy but she managed to nod, pressing their lips back together with the remaining strength she had left. His thrusts became sloppy as he groaned into her mouth something that resembled her name, repeating it three times before he let out a broken “fuck’. She could feel it inside of her, the hot cum pulsing inside of her and making her moan in response. It felt incredible, being filled like this. His cock working it into her, the heat added to the end of her orgasm as he worked through his.

“That’s perfect, H.” She whispered to him, stroking the nape of his neck and over his shoulders. “You’re so beautiful. I feel so good, you-you’re amazing.” It wasn’t her best work, but her brain felt like it had melted a bit. The man was responsive to the praise though, letting out a whine of his out before his hips stilled. The kisses continued but it was hard when they were both panting, smiles making it more difficult as she let out a giggle that was followed by his own. Standing there with his cum coated prick wasn’t how he imagined he’d end his evening, but he’d never been happier.

“Shit.” She exhaled, head dropping back as his own rested against the side of hers. It was quiet for a few moments before he turned his lips to her cheek, peppering a few kisses there as they caught their breath. “So that’s what bathroom sex is like. And a penetrative orgasm.”

Harry burst into his own little laugh at her words, lifting the sensual mood into a sweeter one. His eyes were lighter as he looked at her, a fond smile on his swollen lips. “Yeah, darling. Somewhat. Bathroom sex isn’t always as good as that, but I think it’s good for us.” It was hard to concentrate even still, seeing how gorgeous she was. How he’d been lucky enough to be allowed to touch her so intimately was a mystery to him, but he was more than thrilled about it. “D’you want it to happen again?”

“Mmmm.” Pretending to thing, she laughed at his offended face. “I’d love to. Made a mess on you, you should know how good it was for me.” Brushing the hair out of his face, she wiped a bit of her lipstick from the corner of his lips. He was a bit of a mess, would definitely need a wet wipe to his neck and lips, but it was beautiful. Seeing him freshly fucked was a new favorite. “So, yeah. I would. But perhaps a bed or couch, even a kitchen counter. Don’t want to kill your back by doing this too often.”

“I’d happily fuck it up if it meant a repeat of that.” He scoffed. “C’mere.” Harry couldn’t stop kissing her, and hopefully he wouldn’t have to. A happy exhale left his nose as he pressed repetitive kisses to her mouth, making her giggle- but the moment was interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open and two very drunk, very loud girls walking in.

“I heard Harry Styles was here but I haven’t seen him.” one of them huffed, making Y/N roll her lips together to stop from laughing.

“I know. God, he’s gorgeous isn’t he? But he was hanging out with Y/N, and that makes me nervous. She’s fucking stunning too. I’d like a go with both of them.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fluff

309 notes · View notes

sidekick-hero · 3 days

Text

On top of the world

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, prompt 'graduation' | 616 words | tags: fix it, Steve is a sweetheart and takes care of Eddie, first kiss

Before March 21st, Eddie would have said not graduating again was the worst thing that could happen to him. Now, Eddie knows better.

Nothing like almost dying to put things into perspective, right?

He misses the days when his biggest worry was convincing old witch O'Donnell to give him a "D" and let him leave Hawkins High. Now that he knows what a real hellhole looks like, he thinks he could survive another year under Higgins' thumb.

Still, he doesn't exactly mind when Nancy comes over to his and Wayne's new house—part of the government deal the kids cut for him while he was in a coma—to tell him that he's going to graduate with his class.

He doesn't question it either, just whoops enthusiastically enough to almost pull his stitches, which hurts but has the added bonus of Steve putting his big hands all over him to check his numerous healing wounds.

A week on the run and fighting interdimensional monsters with the guy has changed Eddie's perspective on what’s the best thing that could happen to him as well.

On graduation day, he walks across the stage with a cane for support, something he hadn’t thought possible. It was Steve who had made that happen, even if he refused to accept Eddie's praise. The moment Eddie had muttered under his breath after Nancy had left, ‘But how am I supposed to walk the fucking stage if I can't even go to the bathroom without taking a break?' Steve was a man on a mission.

They practiced every day, before or after Steve's work helping out at the hospital. They needed every helping hand they could get after the damage Vecna and the Upside Down monsters had caused. Eddie could attest to how wonderful Steve's hands were at helping. In fact, he could write songs about it once his hands stopped shaking whenever he held a pencil (or anything, really) for too long.

Eddie wondered if every one of Steve's patients was as in love with him as he was.

As Eddie snags his diploma from Higgins, who looks like he bit into a particularly bitter lemon, Eddie marvels that flipping him the bird isn’t as exhilarating as expected.

Maybe that’s because of last night and the way Steve’s lips felt on his. Every moment since then simply pales in comparison.

Steve had come over after another shift at the hospital, probably sore and exhausted, but giving Eddie one of his dazzling smiles that always made him weak in the knees. Which was kind of counterproductive, considering what they were trying to accomplish here.

They were both trying so hard but Eddie’s legs just wouldn’t cooperate. No matter what Steve tried, they buckled after a few steps, forcing Eddie to sit down or fall down. He had made progress, the muscles in his legs slowly coming back, but three weeks had been too short.

Or so he thought.

Eddie doesn’t know how or why, but this time, Steve had simply positioned himself as far away from Eddie as possible and spread his arms as wide as his smile. “I got you, Eds. I’ll never let you fall. If you can’t trust in yourself just yet, trust in me.”

He had, believing that those strong arms would wrap around him if he stumbled.

He didn’t stumble, didn’t fall, but wrap around him they did anyway. Steve had picked him up and twirled him around, and then he’d kissed him, grinning mouth to grinning mouth.

Eddie might not have graduated top of his class, but he sure feels like he’s on top of the world when he catches Steve’s eye among the cheering group of his friends.

#steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing

323 notes · View notes

eddiesxangel · 2 days

Note

(legal age btw m not weird 😞)

dilf!eddie knowing he shouldnt be messing with a younger girl (18+ ofc) but he js needs relief after his wife left him

also may i please be 🎈 anon if not taken? ty <3

HIIIIII 🎈this got away from me

Omg ok he’s like late 40’s maybe 50. He’d be in the bar with Steve, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, you know the guys, having a celebritory/depressed drink bc the divorce had been finalized that day. Maybe you’re there for your friends 25th birthday and somehow you start flirting with Eddie and he would 100% think you’re pulling his leg bc that’s what he’s use to.

His ex was really the first relationship he had been in, they got married younger bc they were head over heels but then real life gotten in the way and they grew up and apart.

He cannot believe this hot younger girl is talking to him, he’s so out of his wheelhouse, but Steve is there to talk him up.

You “awe” when they tell you he’s newly single but that only makes you want him more. So when you suggest you take the party back to his place he’s fumbling for his keys at the opportunity. He hasn’t had sex in over two years, bc his ex wouldn’t let him touch her.

You rest your hand on his upper thigh on the short car ride back to his new home. He has a small bungalow, seriously a bachelor pad. He was not expecting company so the place is disorganized but you don’t care because your lips are attached to his neck the second he closed the door.

“Holy shit” he lets slip because is this really happening? Yes it is, he feels your hands slip up his thighs to where his hard on is starting to take form.

You run your hands all over his body, his thick arms, his small beer belly, his tense shoulders.

“You should relax, let me help you” you lead him to the couch after he takes off his leather jacket for the first time of the night and you can see more of his tattoos. You bite back a moan when he takes a seat, man spreading just inviting you to take a seat in his lap.

Your lips find his neck, you try to leave a mark but there are so many tattoos you can’t see the bruising.

Eddie still can’t believe he is with you in his house but he’s going to take advantage of every second of it. So unexpectedly he picks you up and walks you over to his bed.

With more confidence in himself he tosses you on the bed and you land with a giggle. He has you naked and on your need for him within minutes of entering the bedroom.

After he thinks you’re about to suck the soul out of his body he pushes you off and spreads you open needing to taste you. Your young tight wet pussy is like a drug. You feel his large lips sucking your clit into his mouth. He loves the feeling of your long nails gripping his hair taught. He lets out a growl into your pussy and your cumming on his tongue instantly.

He fumbles for the condoms he thankfully just bought, and when he finally penetrates you your holding him so tightly to your body you e become one.

His hips are rocking into you so good, he’s pounding into you, you can’t think. You’re so fucking. Happy you chose to come home with him, never have you had sex this good. How did his wife give this up? You don’t know but you’re sure glad because you get to experience him now.

“Eddie please!” He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. He wasn’t even sure you remembered it, he’s having trouble remembering yours if he’s being honest but he didn’t care. Your pussy was magic.

“Fuck babygirl, this pussy so tight so good” you feel his hand gently wrap around your throat, holding you in place as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust.

Your pussy is getting tighter and tighter as your orgasm creeps up on you. He needs you to cum before him, he be damned if he comes first.

The praises falling from his lips has you clenching down on his cock, and Eddie can finally let go. His cum fills the condom as he continues to fuck into you until he’s satisfied.

Once you’ve both caught your breath you get up to leave, Eddie feels sad when you start getting dressed but you insist he gives you his phone band maybe you can do it again sometime.

His stomach did a little summersault when he sees the text from the unsaved number with your name attached, and he doesn’t think he will ever forget your name again.

#Eddie Munson x you #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #tj’s mailbox #🎈 anon

237 notes · View notes

mrsshabana · 3 days

Text

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, age difference, angst, fluff, daddy issues, mommy issues, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 5k words. I want to thank everyone who was so excited for this fic, your kind words really encouraged me to write so much! I hope you enjoy it and keep an eye out for chapter two ♡

This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in Gyutaro’s pathetic life since his sister was accepted into college.

His life is nothing special really, and it never has been. Always taking care of his little sister was his number one priority so his needs and wants were always put on the back burner. Not like he had much of a choice anyway. With a face like that, how are you supposed to get anywhere in life? He’s thirty-five and has never had a romantic partner, but no surprise there. His personality is unpleasant and he doesn’t have much going for him. His job is alright and he can afford to support himself and his sister but that’s about it.

By now he’s come to accept the fact that some things just aren’t in the cards for him. Things like a wife and maybe even kids. As he got older he found himself longing for these things more and more. Especially when he witnessed all of his friends getting married and starting families of their own. But now at his age, no woman would want to get with him, let alone start a family.

At first, he was mad at the world and everyone in it. It wasn’t fair that he was denied love just because he had a few spots on his face, crooked teeth, and was a bit rough around the edges. The jealousy and anger ate at him for many years, causing his personality to become bitter and cold. On the outside, he seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t care about love, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Since he grew up without receiving any love from his mother, it was always something that he craved, even as an adult.

But he grew up, and he had no choice but to realize this was his reality and there was no changing it. It was hard to accept, but he’s finally come to peace with it. At least he has Ume, and honestly, he’s grateful for that.

But now, you came into his life and things are beginning to take an interesting turn.

You’re Ume’s friend from college, she’s a year older than you but you got to know her well in one of your math classes. Ume hates math so she waited until her senior year to take it, which she is starting to regret now. The only upside to the situation is that she met you.

Having gotten pretty close to Ume over the course of the semester, she would often invite you over to her place. You’ve heard her talk about her brother before but you had never met him since he was usually at work when you came over. But when you saw him for the first time, he wasn’t what you had expected. He looked a lot different than the image you had in your mind and he was a lot less friendly than Ume had described him. But even though most of the time he was in a bad mood, he’d be polite to you for the brief moments he was around.

The first thing you noticed about him was how tall he was and how deep and raspy his voice sounded. It was oddly attractive, especially when paired with his messy black hair. You knew he was older than Ume but he didn’t look that old. The only thing that maybe signified his age were the dark circles around his eyes, probably from being overworked.

Gyutaro never expected to get close to his little sister’s best friend. It’s something he never would have considered, but your actions are causing him to rethink his stance on your almost nonexistent relationship.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

One night you’re studying over at Ume’s place again. The two of you sit in the dining room, with notebooks, pens, and textbooks spread across the table. Midterms are coming up so you’re trying really hard to get some studying done. Even though Ume keeps getting distracted and scrolling through TikTok.

You’ve almost lost your sanity with this study session when you hear the front door unlocking.

Gyutaro, looking as tired as usual, walks into the house. Kicking off his shoes and throwing his bag on the floor. He barely even acknowledges you as he walks past saying, “Girls, can you please clean the table.”

“Mm hm,” Ume hums as she continues looking at her phone screen.

He knows she isn’t going to do as he asks, but he always asks anyway. Today has been a long day and Gyutaro just wishes he could go to sleep but he knows he has a household to take care of. So he hurriedly rushes over to the bathroom and takes a quick shower. Coming out with messy damp hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. He goes straight to his bedroom, but you manage to catch a glimpse of him through the hall.

The way his long hair sticks to his muscled shoulders and back distracts you. And even after he’s gone from your sight, the heavenly image is still stuck in your mind.

“Will I ever get a break?” he thinks to himself as he puts on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, “As soon as I’m done cooking I’m passing out.” It’s only 8 pm but after another overtime shift, he’s pooped. Ume’s lucky he loves her so much, or else he would just make her eat a Lean Cuisine for dinner.

He doesn’t even bother to brush his hair and just heads straight towards the kitchen. But on his way, he’s met with something that surprises him.

“You actually cleaned the table?” he says in shock.

“No, she did,” Ume points to you without even looking up from her phone.

Gyutaro scowls and hits Ume in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper, “What’s the matter with you? It’s rude to make your guest clean!”

“Hey!! Cut it out!! I didn’t tell her to, she did it on her own!” Ume whines.

“Still, you should have cleaned it yourself,” he grumbles and throws the newspaper to the side, “Y/N, I’m sorry. Please stay for dinner, that’s the least I could offer you for helping my sister since she’s too lazy to do anything on her own.”

“No no, it’s ok! I don’t want to put more work on your plate -”

“I insist,” he smiles and begins preparing the ingredients.

Ume pays no attention to the matter, as you admire her brother while he works away in the kitchen. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he takes a sip and sighs before he begins washing some vegetables.

You sit there and stare at his muscles, admiring the way they move along with noticing the tattoo on his upper arm. The way his hair falls in his face, and he tries to push it away with his wrist while his hands hold ingredients.

This is something you’ve never had before. A man who takes care of you. It’s something new for you, and quite frankly you’re a bit jealous of Ume. It must be nice to have someone who takes care of her like Gyutaro does. Especially since your father was never around, it feels comforting being in this kind of atmosphere with Gyutaro and his sister.

The loud clattering of metal hitting the floor snaps you out of the trance you were in. It seems that Gyutaro dropped a knife because he had almost fallen asleep. You can see his eyes closing slowly as he shakes his head in an attempt to wake himself up. Even though you barely know him, the sight makes you feel bad for him. He must be so exhausted, yet he’s determined to make dinner for his little sister.

“Hey, do you need any help?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen.

“N-no, thank you though.” He tries to brush you off and continue cooking but you stop him, grabbing his wrist and taking the utensils out of his hand. “It’s ok really, you seem exhausted. Plus I like cooking so it’s no biggie!” You smile and try to lead him away from the kitchen.

“What? No! You’re our guest it’d be rud-”

“Onii-chan just let her do it! She’s offering, stop being so stubborn!” Ume chimes in.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re a bad host. You’ve been nothing but welcoming to me, I just want to help out,” you lead him over to the couch and force him to sit down, “Everyone deserves a break once in a while.”

“But I-” his sentence trails off as he watches you walk away, not giving him any say in the matter. He feels incredibly guilty for letting you cook. But his body is too tired to fight it, and you no longer hear any complaints from him.

Looking around the kitchen you scan what Gyutaro had set up. There’s a pot of boiling water on the stove, a pan with oil in it, some half-cut tomatoes, a box of pasta, and an unopened package of meat. You can only assume that he was trying to make spaghetti. Luckily for you, it’s easy enough and something you’ve made countless times before.

After about 30 minutes you have all of the food prepared. You make a plate for yourself, Ume, and Gyutaro.

“Thanks, Y/N!” Ume exclaims as she finally puts down her phone and takes her plate.

Next, you walk over to Gyutaro to give him his food, but he’s already passed out on the couch. The bottle of beer still in his hand, half full.

“Poor thing,” you whisper to yourself, “Guess it’ll just be Ume and I for now.” You take the plate to the table and eat with Ume, opting that it’s probably best to let Gyutaro sleep.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

His stomach rumbles and his eyes are heavy as he slowly opens them, looking around at his surroundings. Confused for a moment as he forgot where he was. The living room is dark and quiet and he can’t quite remember why or how he fell asleep here.

But then he looks over at the coffee table and remembers everything. His bottle is placed aptly beside a plate full of delicious looking pasta. Neatly wrapped in plastic wrap with a note reading, Enjoy! :)

“No way,” he mumbles as he tears off the plastic and begins to dig in. His eyes roll to the back of his head when the delicious food hits his tongue. Things taste so much better when someone else makes them. And honestly, he can’t recall how many years it’s been since someone has cooked him a meal. Five? Possibly ten? Either way, he savors the moment.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

That meal has been on Gyutaro’s mind for days now. Never forgetting the taste and the gratifying feeling of eating a meal that was carefully prepared by someone else. It was amazing. And you’ve been on his mind ever since that night.

He told Ume to thank you since he didn’t have your number, and he really hopes she actually did it and didn’t just blow him off like she usually does.

As he drives home from work he can’t help but think of how nice it would be to come home to one of your home-cooked meals. It’s become a fantasy of his to imagine this on his drives home after a long shift. The thought brings him some comfort even though he knows it will never become a reality.

And just as he was driving through downtown he saw someone familiar. It was you, standing beneath one of the street lights as a strange man loomed over you. He appeared to be talking to you, but your body language looked as if you were very uncomfortable with the situation.

The strange man appeared to be around Gyutaro’s age and all he could think was, “C’mon man, you’re too old to be doing this shit to a young girl. You should know better.” He rolls his eyes and pulls over next to the sidewalk.

With a deep, tired sigh, he gets out of the car and yells, “Hey Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

At first, the sudden voice calling out to you startles you, but as soon as you see that it’s Ume’s brother you feel like you’ve been saved. The strange man looks over at Gyutaro too, giving him a confused look.

“We’re gonna be late for that movie,” Gyutaro smiles as if everything is normal and walks up to you, “Oh, who’s this? Do I know this guy?”

“Uh n-no, I don’t think you know him,” you say nervously.

Gyutaro nods and takes your hand, “Sorry man, but we gotta go. We’re gonna miss the premier if we don’t get going now.”

The stranger seems convinced and walks off as Gyutaro leads you back to his car. Opening the door for you, as he watches the man walk away. Making sure he’s gone for good.

You don’t hesitate to get into his car, a huge wave of relief washing over you once you’re safely inside.

As soon as Gyutaro gets into the car he scolds you, “What the hell were you doing out here by yourself?” His eyes scan your form, and he notices you’re wearing a short dress.

“I was out with some friends,” you say shyly, “and I wanted to go home, but everyone else wanted to stay out…”

He sighs and starts the car, “You can’t walk around like that, creepy guys are gonna flock towards you. It’s dangerous.”

“I know, I was so stupid for doing that… B-but thank you so much for helping me, Gyutaro! You really saved me there,” you feel tears well up in your eyes as you imagine what might have happened to you if Gyutaro never showed up.

“Hey hey, it’s alright,” his expression softens, “You’re ok now, that’s all that matters. And from now on if you need a ride just call me, ok?”

“R-really? I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything…”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re Ume’s friend. I’d do it for Ume so I’d do it for you too. Besides, I work around here so it’s no big deal,” he smiles and hands you his phone so you can put your number in.

“Thanks. Ume’s really lucky to have a big brother like you,” you say as you finish creating your contact in his phone.

“I try my best I guess, heh if only Ume heard you say that. Anyway, where do you live?”

“Oh, right! It’s super close to here,” you type the directions into his phone navigation, “I really owe you for this, Gyutaro! What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Wh-what? No no no, you don’t have to do anything,” he gets a bit flustered as he begins driving towards your place.

“Come on! You did so much for me, it’s the least I could do! Ooh, how about I cook something for you?” You raise your eyebrows and smile, trying to convince him.

When he hears your plea, it’s like his prayers were answered.

“... well, I can’t say no to that.”

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

The long-awaited day has finally come. The day that you will bring over some home-cooked meals to Gyutaro’s house. He’s been anticipating this ever since you promised it to him.

You come over holding tons of containers of food, much more than he had expected.

“Woah, let me help you,” he says as he holds the front door open and takes one of the bags out of your hand.

“Ah, thanks. I didn’t realize how much food I made until I had to pack it all up,” you laugh and walk into his home. Placing the food on the table, you neatly snack boxes of prepared meals.

“What’s all this?” he asks, a bit confused. He was expecting you to bring over a big container full of food, not a bunch of small ones.

“I know you work a lot and stuff. So, I thought it’d be better if I packed everything up into individual meals so you can just grab them and take them to work. Less prep work for you. I hope that’s alright…”

Gyutaro is truly left speechless, unable to believe that you not only put so much effort into this but also so much consideration as well. Still in disbelief, he takes one of the neatly packed boxes and opens it up. Inside he’s met with a delicious meal separated neatly, and even a small dessert tucked into the side. The sight is beautiful, but the smell is what really makes him salivate.

“Wow,” he smiles, “I-I don’t know what to say. This is amazing, thank you.”

He begins to choke up. After so many years of taking care of his sister, always worrying about her needs, caring for her, stepping up and being that guardian that she needed, never once did someone stop to ask him what he wanted. Let alone go out of their way to take care of him. And for once, just once, he gets a taste of what it feels like to be cared for. Nurtured. And it’s a feeling he wishes he never had to let go of.

All of the emotions he’s kept in for so long finally pour out of him. Your kindness and consideration force his walls to crumble. And his eyes begin to water as he pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears.

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask as you immediately notice that something isn’t right.

It takes him a moment to compose himself, “I-I’m ok,” he rasps, “Just… I really appreciate you doing this. It’s been so long since someone has done something for me…”

“Well, you deserve it,” you smile and try to comfort him by rubbing his back, “I can tell you work really hard. My mom is the same way. So I understand.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and quickly composes himself, “A-Anyway, I’m going to try one right now. It smells great.” He quickly tries to change the subject partially because he’s embarrassed, but also because he genuinely cannot wait to taste your cooking again.

The food still feels warm so he rushes into the kitchen to grab a fork, and he sits at the table and digs in. Immediately as the food hits his tongue he lets out a groan of satisfaction.

“Mmph, ooh my god,” he says right before he shoves another spoonful into his mouth, “so good!”

“I’m glad you like it,” you smile and sit beside him at the table, “These recipes are super easy and budget-friendly, so I can give them to you if you want.”

“Please! Mmph, that’d be great,” he swallows another big bite, “Where’d you learn to cook so well?”

“I just learned over time. It’s always just been my mom and I, my dad was never around,” you sigh, “So I kinda had to learn how to take care of myself since my mom always had two jobs. I would always make food for us to ease her workload. And I’ve always enjoyed cooking so I never minded.”

“Wait, for real?” he looks surprised, “My mom was never around! Man, it fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So you understand how I feel!” you smile despite talking about something upsetting, “So, your dad was the one that raised you?”

“Basically,” he nods as he licks his fork clean, “My mom wouldn’t let my dad come around much, even though she wasn’t around much herself. I was pretty much on my own till my mom died and my dad took us in.”

Watching him talk about his past, you get the impression that it’s something he doesn’t often talk about. His body language alone is enough to tell you that. But the two of you feel some type of connection having shared a similar childhood experience.

“Your dad sounds like a good man,” you smile, “I think he’d be very proud of you.”

He looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of sadness and appreciation. “Thanks… he really was the best. But sometimes I just wish I could have had a normal family.”

“Yeah I totally get it,” you sigh, “That’s why I always told myself I’d try to give my future kid the best life I can. I want to give them the childhood I never had…” You trail off, thinking about the future you hope will become a reality one day.

“Exactly!” he shouts, “That’s exactly what I told myself too! I always wanted a family so I could do things right.”

He seems excited at first but his expression quickly shifts to one of sadness.

“But it’s too late for me to have a family,” he continues, looking down as he opens up about one of his biggest failures, “Oh well, if Ume ever has kids I’ll just try to be the best uncle I can.”

“Why would you say it’s too late?” you tilt your head to the side, confused.”

“Y/N, I’m thirty-five years old. I’m too old to start a family… Besides most women my age are done having kids. Not that any woman would want to be with me anyways.” He frowns, being reminded of how he failed to fulfill one of the only dreams he’s ever had.

“Why not just start a family with a young girl, like me?” You ask without completely realizing what you’re saying.

“Wh-what?” his eyes widen, completely taken aback by your statement. Could you be insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating? He’s not sure whether you’re just naive or completely delusional.

“W-Well um,” you blush as you begin to realize what you’ve said, “I think you’re a really great guy. Any woman would be lucky to-”

“Get out,” he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry-”

“GET OUT!” He raises his voice, striking fear into you to the point where you feel your eyes begin to water.

You feel utterly embarrassed and ashamed. Just when you were starting to get close to him too, you had to say something stupid to ruin it all. Honestly, you have no idea what you were thinking. You will admit you did have a crush on him, so maybe your heart just got excited and took a risky leap of faith. But unfortunately for you, it backfired.

Without another word you rush out of his house as fast as you can, balling your eyes out.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

It’s been a few days, and Gyutaro has been ignoring your texts. They stopped coming after that first day, and even though he didn’t respond he still read them. Reading your apologies over and over. He couldn’t get the situation out of his head no matter how hard he tried. So he decided maybe he needed an outside opinion.

He finds himself sitting at a bar, drinking a beer. Rubbing his rough hand across the stubble that’s grown on his face as he’s been too stressed lately to bother shaving. Honestly, he looks pretty rough. He’s caught up in his self-sabotaging thoughts when he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

“Gyutaro! How’ve you been, man?”

He turns around with a smile on his face, “Hey Kai, what’s up?” He stands and gives his best friend a side hug.

“Gyutarooooo, do I get a hug too?” an annoying voice chimes, a voice that instantly gives Gyutaro a headache. This voice could only belong to one person.

“I hope you don’t mind that I invited him too,” Kaigaku laughs nervously.

“Douma…” Gyutaro deadpans.

“What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Douma smiles wide, giving Gyutaro a one-sided hug. “So, spill the details! Kai said you had some juicy gossip to talk about!” He says as he sits beside him at the bar, placing his hand under his chin and batting his long eyelashes.

Kaigaku takes a seat on the other side of Gyutaro and mumbles, “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“It’s fine,” Gyutaro sighs and takes a drink from his bottle, “I really just wanted some advice. Just promise you won’t make it weird.”

“When do I ever make things weird?” Douma asks.

Gyutaro just stares at him, thinking of all of the times he has indeed made things weird.

“Come on man, just spit it out already!” Kaigaku nudges his shoulder.

Gyutaro groans and slumps over in his seat, “Alright alright. So, there’s this girl-”

“A girl?!” Both of his friends say in unison.

“Shut up!” Gyutaro growls, knowing exactly why his friends are so shocked. Because out of all of the years they’ve known him, he’s never once brought up a girl.

“Anyway,” he continues, “There’s a girl I kind of like… she’s really sweet and we have a lot in common but…” he trails off, hesitant to tell them the truth, “She’s only twenty-one…”

Kaigaku chokes on his drink.

“I don’t see an issue,” Douma says, genuinely confused.

“Of course, you don’t,” Gyutaro mumbles under his breath.

“How the hell did you get into this situation?” Kaigaku coughs.

“It wasn’t on purpose! I didn’t pursue her at all!” Gyutaro scowls, “Listen, she’s one of Ume’s friends. She comes over a lot and she’s been really nice to me. She even cooked a bunch of meals for me too…”

“And? Spill it, Shabana!” Douma pouts, getting impatient.

“AND, we were talking about what we want for our future. I told her I wanted a family one day but I’m too old… and she said why don’t I have a family with a young girl like her. I immediately told her to leave. I’m starting to think maybe I overreacted…”

“Well, girls that age are very fertile!” Douma chimes as if his statement was completely innocent.

“STOP!” Gyutaro shouts, “That’s fucking weird, man! Don’t say it like that!”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him…” Kaigaku mumbles.

“Hey, it’s true! I am a gynecologist after all, it’s just medical facts! And she’s right, having children with someone your age will be much more difficult and there could be complications!” Douma asserts confidently.

“The fact that you’re a gynecologist disturbs me,” Kaigaku says.

“Me too,” Gyutaro adds.

“Come on guys! It’s not as weird as you think. Why would it be so wrong to date her?”

“For starters, she’s fourteen fucking years younger than me! That’d be creepy right…? I don’t want people thinking I’m a weirdo or a creep,” he frowns, starting to feel like maybe he is a creep for even considering something with you.

Kaigaku takes a sip of his drink, thinking long and hard about what advice he should give his friend. Especially since Douma is useless.

“I mean, it’s not that bad,” he shrugs, “At the end of the day you’re both consenting adults. And since when did you care about what other people think of you anyway?”

“You have a point,” Gyutaro replies, “But she should live her life instead of wasting her time with an old guy like me.”

“First of all you aren’t even that old,” Kai rolls his eyes, “And second of all, she’s an adult who is fully capable of making her own decisions. If she wants to be with you, then she wants it for a reason. Maybe she wants a guy who is at a more stable point in his life. Who knows?”

“Exactly, Kai’s right. I see age gaps much larger than this all the time, it’s more common than you think,” Douma adds.

“And besides, it would only be creepy if you were talking to her when she was a minor,” Kaigaku states, “Like if you’re an adult talking to a minor, then wait till they’re an adult to pursue them romantically it’s a little creepy if you ask me. But you didn’t even know her at all until now. So don’t worry man. You aren’t creepy or weird for liking this girl.”

Gyutaro feels a wave of relief wash over him as he listens to his friend’s explanation. It's the first thing he’s heard that actually made him feel a bit better about the situation. “So, you really think it’s ok for me to pursue her?”

“Hell yeah! Be happy, man. I know you’re not the kind of guy to go after a girl just because she’s young. She sounds like a really nice girl, and I’m happy someone finally sees what a great guy you are.”

“Thanks, Kai,” Gyutaro smiles, “Alright, I guess I’ll go for it.”

Gyutaro feels a newfound confidence overtake him. His friends are right, he shouldn’t be so caught up in the details when the fact of the matter is that a really amazing woman is interested in him for the first time in his life. And he cannot let this opportunity slide, as it may be the last chance he has at happiness.

“Who knows, maybe she’s one of my patients!” Douma chimes in out of nowhere.

“Shut up, Douma! God, I can’t take you anywhere!” Kai growls.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

That night you receive a text from Gyutaro, “Do you want to go to the botanical gardens with me this weekend?”

When you first read the text you had to pinch yourself in case you were dreaming. Why would he say that all of a sudden? Did he suddenly have a change of heart? Or maybe he’s inviting you out just so he can tell you off in person.

You aren’t sure which one, but you’ve been so stressed over this situation that you’ll do anything to make up with him. So you hastily respond, “Yes! I’d love to :)”

Immediately you regret how eager you sound in the text, thinking that it might make Gyutaro think you're even more childish. But in reality it makes him smile knowing that someone is excited to see him for once.

“Ok. I’ll send you the details,” he responds a minute later.

Is this a date? That’s the only question that keeps replaying in your mind. A date with Gyutaro, your best friend’s older brother. The whole thing feels taboo, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you feel even more excited.

Taglist: @gyusimp @mistyychann @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @hoshigafuru @matsukaah @merryclaus @whisperhug97 @dawn-rays-dingo

(I tagged people who showed interest in my previous posts. If you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist just let me know. The next chapter will have smut so if you want to be tagged make sure you have your age listed on your blog ♡)

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou x reader #ume shabana #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #age difference #kaigaku #douma

196 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 1 day

Text

Lingerie

Synopisis: Where, while you show off your new lingerie sets that you bought, Jun is enchanted by the lingerie with embroidered flowers, something different, that enchanted his eyes.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Smut, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), praising, squirt & etc.

Jun had always been the epitome of a supportive boyfriend. Whether it was your college work, cooking a new dish, or even finding the perfect dress for a wedding, Jun was there, ready to assist. He made everything feel effortless, always taking care of the details so you didn’t have to worry.

“Jun, I really don’t know how to tackle this assignment,” you’d sigh, frustration evident in your voice.

He would slide over, peering at your laptop screen. “Let me take a look. Maybe we can brainstorm some ideas together,” he’d suggest with a gentle smile, and before you knew it, the daunting task felt manageable.

In the kitchen, you once struggled with a recipe you’d never tried before. Jun found the perfect tutorial online and stood by your side, guiding you step by step until the dish was ready, his patience never wavering.

And when it came to shopping for that perfect dress for a friend’s wedding, Jun’s patience shone through. You spent hours in the mall, trying on what felt like a hundred different outfits. Yet, Jun never complained. He sat outside the dressing rooms, offering genuine opinions.

“That one’s nice, but I think the blue dress brings out your eyes more,” he’d say, making the decision-making process so much easier.

His opinions always seemed spot-on, which is why you’d come to trust his judgment on many things, especially when it came to your wardrobe. Shopping with him became an enjoyable experience rather than a chore.

Today was another shopping day, and you were on the hunt for a new outfit for an upcoming event. As usual, Jun was by your side, carrying your bags and offering his thoughts on the clothes you tried on.

“What do you think of this one?” you asked, stepping out of the fitting room in a sleek, black dress.

Jun looked up from his phone, his eyes lighting up. “You look amazing. But maybe try it with those heels we saw earlier?”

You nodded, smiling. “You always know what looks best.”

After a few more outfits and Jun’s invaluable input, you finally settled on a dress. As you walked out of the store, you linked your arm with his, feeling grateful for his constant support.

“Thank you for always being so patient with me,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jun chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s easy when I’m with you. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

He says that with the greatest naturalness. – While you were freaking out inside.

As you arrived home, Jun noticed you were carrying a few extra bags, including some from a lingerie store he knew well. He had bought you gifts from that store before, particularly on Valentine's Day.

“When did you buy these?” Jun asked, curiosity and a hint of excitement in his voice.

You smiled, placing the bags on the table. “When you went to get ice cream,” you replied nonchalantly.

Jun's eyes lit up, a playful smirk spreading across his face. The thought of you picking out something special while he was away added a spark of anticipation.

Later that evening, after dinner and a cozy time together, you both retreated to the bedroom. Jun sat comfortably in the poltrone, eagerly waiting as you prepared to show him the new lingerie. He could hardly contain his excitement, his eyes following your every movement.

First, you stepped out in a stunning red set, the vibrant color highlighting your curves beautifully. Jun's jaw dropped, and he couldn't help but cover his face, cheeks flushed red. “Wow, you look incredible,” he mumbled from behind his hands.

You giggled, twirling around to give him a full view. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Jun nodded, peeking through his fingers, his eyes filled with admiration.

Next, you slipped into a sleek black set, the lace and satin combination making you feel both elegant and seductive. You strutted around the room, feeling confident under Jun's appreciative gaze. “This one is my favorite so far,” he confessed, his voice slightly hoarse with desire.

“You're too sweet,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his words.

Finally, you emerged in a delicate white set, the purity of the color contrasting beautifully with the sultry design. Jun couldn't take his eyes off you, his face still a deep shade of red. “You look like an angel,” he whispered, his praise as genuine as ever.

You walked over to him, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you like them. You always make me feel so beautiful.”

Jun smiled, his hands gently holding your waist. “That’s because you are. And I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You stepped into the room, adorned in a pastel floral lingerie, a departure from your usual style. You knew it, and Jun knew it too. But this time, instead of his usual enthusiastic response, Jun remained silent. He simply stared at you, his gaze sweeping over your figure from head to toe. His mouth hung slightly open, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath.

Concerned by his lack of reaction, you couldn't help but ask, “Don't you like it?”

Jun didn't respond with words. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a few swift strides, his movements purposeful and determined. Before you could even react, he pressed his lips to yours, his hand firmly holding the nape of your neck while the other encircled your waist.

Your eyes widened in surprise at his sudden action, but you quickly melted into the kiss, allowing yourself to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace. His lips moved with a fervent passion, igniting a fire within you that quickly spread throughout your entire being.

As he gently laid you down on the bed, Jun's eyes remained fixed on you, his gaze intense and unwavering. His hands began to explore your body with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. Fingers traced delicate patterns across your breasts, down your belly, until they reached the band of your panties.

You held your breath in anticipation, your heart racing with excitement. But instead of removing your panties entirely, Jun surprised you by simply pushing them to the side. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers found their target, circling your clit with a feather-light touch.

The sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back instinctively, pressing yourself against his hand as he continued to tease and tantalize you.

As Jun's fingers slid inside your wet pussy, you couldn't help but arch your back in response to the delightful sensation. A low moan escaped your lips, your body instinctively pressing against his hand as he began to explore your gummy walls.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he gazed upon you. "Every curve, every sigh, it's all so perfect."

Your cheeks flushed crimson at his words, and you couldn't help but cover your face in embarrassment. "Stop it, Jun," you protested weakly, though the desire that burned within you betrayed your words.

But Jun was undeterred, his fingers never faltering in their ministrations as he continued to lavish you with praise. "I can't help it," he confessed, his voice low and husky with desire. "You drive me wild, you know that? Just seeing you like this, so hot, so pretty..."

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself squirming beneath him, unable to contain the desire that coursed through your veins. With a gentle touch, Jun reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheeks as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

"You don't need to hide from me," he whispered, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "I want to see all of you, every part of you."

Jun's response was immediate and decisive, his actions speaking louder than words as he lowered himself between your thighs without hesitation. As his warm breath ghosted over your sensitive flesh, anticipation coursed through your veins.

Without a word, Jun buried his face in your heat, his tongue flicking out to taste your arousal. A moan escaped your lips at the touch of his tongue on your clit, pleasure radiating out from where his lips and tongue touched you.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice thick with need as you pressed against him, urging him to go deeper. "I need you, Jun. I need you to fuck me."

But Jun simply chuckled against your skin, his movements deliberate and unhurried as he teased you with languid strokes of his tongue.

You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair as your body begged for release. But Jun was relentless, his ministrations driving you to the brink of madness as he expertly toyed with your bud.

And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Jun's touch changed, becoming more insistent, more demanding. With a low growl, he devoured you, his tongue delving deep inside you as he consumed you like his last meal.

With a final, desperate cry, you reached the peak of ecstasy, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Jun drank in your essence greedily, his tongue working tirelessly to draw out every last drop of your pleasure.

As you eagerly anticipated his next move, Jun teased you with his cock, allowing you only the briefest of touches before pulling away again. Your frustration mounted with each fleeting contact, but Jun seemed to relish in your desperation, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he toyed with you.

"Patience, my love," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire. "Good things come to those who wait."

With a wicked grin, he finally positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. You could feel the heat of his arousal against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

And then, with a single, smooth motion, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. You gasped at the suddenness of his entry, your body clenching around him in ecstasy.

"God, Jun," you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure. "I think I could cum just from the feeling of you sliding inside me."

Jun's chuckle sent shivers down your spine as he teased you, adjusting your legs to rest on his shoulders. The new angle made you feel him even deeper, and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Jun murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I love seeing you like this…"

You could only nod in response, your breath hitching as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

"You're so beautiful like this, taking me so well," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I can feel how much you want me, how much you need me to fill you up."

"You're mine, all mine," he growled, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "No one else can make you feel like this, can they? Only me."

You whimpered in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure washed over you. Jun's words fueled your desire, pushing you closer to the brink of orgasm with each passing moment.

Your words tumbled out in a desperate gasp as pleasure consumed you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum, Jun!" you cried out, feeling his cock driving you to the edge. The sensation of him sliding in, wet and sharp, only intensified the pleasure coursing through you.

As you felt the knot unraveling in your belly, you came around him, your body pulsating with ecstasy. But Jun didn't stop there; he continued, spreading your legs wide as he gazed into your eyes with unwavering intensity. He captured every expression on your face, savoring the way you looked as you cummed.

pleasure crash over you. When Jun let out a choked moan, his face contorted in bliss, you felt a gulp of anticipation. His hot cum filled you, triggering another orgasm that ripped through you, causing you to squirt around him.

As his cock slipped out of you, you felt his cum mixing with yours, spilling out from within you. Jun watched you with awe, his eyes wide with amazement at the sight before him.

Jun leaned in close, his hands gently caressing your trembling body as he whispered soothing words to coax you from your orgasmic haze. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips, his touch gentle and reassuring as he helped you come down from the intense high. You melted into his embrace.

264 notes · View notes

pprodsuga · 1 day

Text

never to keep | heeseung

summary: heeseung was always a natural scene stealer, capturing the hearts and attention of those around him. it seemed predestined that he'd pursue a life that would take him beyond the cosmos and leave behind the constellations he once treasured. it's too bad that you were one of them.

warnings: angst and typos, probably.

word count: 8.6K (shorter than previous works, forgive me)

notes: ahahah. this is a therapy piece ... currently dealing with similar themes of a friend prioritizing work and people who don't care for her over people who do, and i feel veryyy conflicted as of late. i, like yn, am not a plaything. why not turn it into a fic. anyway, enjoy and happy reading! x

masterlist + taglist

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

If you love someone, they will always come back to you.

There’s no logic in love, only strong emotions that make people disregard all they know to chase the feeling of reckless abandon. Love is a wildcard that can catch even the most self-protective person off guard. You’ve read it in stories from childhood fairytales to watching strangers fall in love in your favorite books and television shows growing up. You believe the people who kiss on the screen must surely find an ounce of love, even if only for a brief moment.

It’s no surprise that you’ve come to love Heeseung the way you do. To love him is to know him, even if he’s too tired to see you on the weekends or too occupied to sit next to you at the lunch period because of his days training to become an idol. What you know at this point in your life is that love is unconditional; supporting your best friend to pursue a dream he’s talked about since he could speak feels right.

To love somebody doesn’t necessarily mean to devote oneself to the fullest extent, but somehow you feel as though this way of thinking never quite aligned with how you’ve come to love. Heeseung’s parents are a surrogate for your own, especially when it’s just you and your mother in the small, two bedroom apartment that sits on the edge of town and away from the city. They tuck you in at night during holidays and other special occasions when you’ve become too tired to drive back to your home.

Minjun, Heeseung’s younger sister by four years, warmed up to you quicker than anyone had expected. The fierce girl had a protective streak over her brother once he grew into his height and learned that winking at pretty girls could get them to do whatever he asked of them within reason. Minjun doesn’t recall when she met you for the first time because she was likely too young to remember, but her sweet nature towards you speaks louder than you could’ve ever anticipated.

Growing up with a single parent as an only child provides enough time to befriend loneliness. There are days spent idly in the apartment waiting for someone to keep you company, often wishing that the house was filled with people to keep the void full and lively. But now, because of the Lee family and how close you’ve become to their two children, it seems as if the idea of a central family is closer than you think.

Heeseung didn’t expect for you to become a prominent fixture in his life when the two of you were partnered for a science project at the ripe age of thirteen. He’d experienced a growth spurt and acne for the first time simultaneously, growing insecure in himself with every day that passed by. Heeseung hadn’t anticipated you sitting with his family at the dinner table five years later, listening to a mundane story about his mother’s workday at a boring corporate-level position Heeseung doesn’t bother to remember.

He never thought you’d be cooking with his father in the kitchen upon returning home from his training practices, talking about the art of seasoning as the meal preparations come to a finish. He doesn’t remember when you started coming over without the pretense of coming to see him either. Heeseung surely does not anticipate Minjun waiting for your arrival by the front windows just to insist on being the first person who welcomes you into their home.

Naturally, Minjun becomes a recognizable face in your life because of how often she spends time with you and Heeseung. The young girl sets up her homework as the two of you begin yours, her schoolbooks significantly lighter than yours but you make conversation anyhow.

“I think she likes you because you don’t treat her like she’s thirteen,” Heeseung says as he dries the dishes from dinner as you scrub them clean. “She hates it when people baby her.”

“Sometimes I think I need to watch how I talk to Minjun.”

“No, you don’t. Minjun likes that you talk to her like a friend.”

“That’s what she is, no? A friend?”

“More than me?”

You flick water towards Heeseung. “Yes, if you keep teasing me.”

“Seriously, though. Thanks for being nice to her. She complains that she’s the youngest out of everybody all the time.”

“I used to be like that.” You close the tap water and hand the last dish to Heeseung. “I hated being at the kids table when everybody else got to be an adult. Minjun’s at the age where she’s aware of it.”

“God, we sound like her parents, or something.”

You bite back a smile.

Caring for Heeseung is arguably the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He makes it simple when you receive a text from him hours before you wake up and just before you go to bed despite his busy schedule. You wonder at all how he manages to fit you into his life with all of his dreams and responsibilities, but Heeseung always tells you it’s because there’s room for you.

Being so close to his family helps internalize the fact that you are a permanent fixture in his life. Mrs. Lee drops off baked goods on Saturday mornings most times because she knows your mother likes to eat a sweet treat with her bitter coffee. Mr. Lee goes out of his way to fix faulty ceiling fans or kitchen drains when he has the time to spare your income. Minjun gives you drawings from her art classes that sit on your refrigerator. Integrating their life within yours feels natural.

Heeseung has always been somebody you’ve looked up to, poised for success after deciding he loved singing enough to make a career out of it. The eight-year-old boy who loved to choreograph dance numbers to famous songs carries this humble beginning when he talks about what life might look like for him when he’s crossed the threshold that separates his life from now.

It seemed as though Heeseung’s dream of becoming an idol never seemed too far out of reach, even if he had his moments where he felt like giving up. Things always worked out for him in ways nobody could explain, like moving to a new city because of his mother’s job and making friends within an hour of transferring to a new middle school. Or the time when he’d auditioned to train under a management company and hadn’t heard back from them for weeks–Heeseung prepared to stop giving himself false hope for his future as an idol until the fateful email sat at the top of his inbox, welcoming him to the company.

Life was always easier on Heeseung than it was for everybody else.

You don’t see him much between classes because he’s on a special path created for people who are like him. People who are destined to debut as an idol are given certain exemptions to ensure quality education while having enough time to train in all areas of performance art. It took a while for Heeseung to get used to his new life and the new routine set in place for him but you were always there to remind him that this is what he wants more than anything in the world. All of the stress and frustration that comes with change, no matter how brutal or unnerving, will be worth it when he sees his dream to the end.

You’re a young adult at this point in your life but it feels like you’ve aged beyond your peers because of circumstance. Spending time at the Lee residence when your mom’s at work or visiting her friends prevents you from feeling as lonely as you do in between four white walls that barely feel like home without someone else in it. Growing up quicker than your peers feels like something expected of you. Oftentimes, you wish you could maintain childlike innocence as Heeseung does, dreaming so big and far that everything seems like a possibility if you dreamed hard enough.

Watching him dance and hearing him sing feels like a reminder that there’s more to life than what you know. Your best friend is your confidant and the person you see yourself in the most. The boys and girls who befriend him because of his good looks and potential stardom don’t matter much to either of you when the promise of lifelong friendship looms in the future. You can’t imagine Heeseung not being in it.

Mr. and Mrs. Lee sit at the dining table over a cup of post-dinner coffee while Minjun scrolls through her phone by the couch with a Netflix show you’ve never heard of on the television. Their soft murmurs have become a familiar background noise. You sit next to Minjun and peer over her shoulder.

“I like these shoes a lot,” she tells you as she turns the phone for you to see. “All the girls in my grade are wearing these.”

“Do you like them because you like them or because everyone else does?”

She frowns. “What’s wrong with liking what other people like?”

“Nothing, but if you’re going to buy flats just for them to sit in the back of your closet, that doesn’t seem like a good reason to have them.”

Minjun has approached the age you’re all too familiar with. When you turned thirteen, the impending doom of fitting in hit you like a truck when you realized all of the girls in your grade had expensive clothes while you wore hand-me-downs from your cousins. Your backpack, which you had been using for three years because the straps weren’t broken, felt like a burden to carry when everybody else had pretty satchels. You felt juvenile in your too-worn sneakers and the two pairs of jeans you had sitting in your closet. But you were thirteen and your mother made enough money to make ends meet and put dinner on the table. Clothing and new school materials didn’t matter compared to eating before bed.

Part of this insecurity has always followed you throughout childhood, especially when you were old enough to be aware of the fact that you were one of the few people in your grade who didn’t have a nuclear family. The kinds of families you’d see on the television didn’t exist in real life because while these programs taught its audiences the value of a good, stable home life, you’d been watching them alone while you waited for your mother to come home from work. There would be no dinner at the table with both of your parents because you knew there would be just her.

Watching Minjun grow up with two parents who dote on her feels bittersweet. It feels like watching a version of what could have been if only your father had chosen to stay in the picture instead of abandoning his family for a promising career in entertainment. Minjun’s petulance often reminds you that you were not privileged enough to have this kind of grace because of how rapidly your circumstances forced you to grow up faster than your peers did.

There’s a small part of you that envies her life when you think about what yours could have been if he had stayed. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to watch your mother slave away at odd jobs to keep the lights on before finding a good, stable job after years of searching. Maybe you wouldn’t have felt so lonely in your adolescence because he’d take you to ice cream after school. Maybe the hollowness that remains inside of you would have been filled with joy and laughter on the holidays.

“You’re right,” Minjun sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Seri told me my outfit would’ve looked prettier if I wore these.”

“People should keep their opinions to themselves.”

Minjun nods. “Agreed.”

Heeseung emerges from the kitchen a moment later and sits next to you on the couch. The dip in the cushion and his thigh being pressed against yours isn’t a new phenomenon, but the heat that creeps up your neck can’t be helped when he looks like a model from the corner of your eye. You swallow until your mouth feels dry to keep both Lee siblings from asking why you look like you’re about to explode.

It’s easy to fall in love with Heeseung. All of the girls fawn over him already, a promising sign that Heeseung will likely be just fine when he debuts as an idol. He’s always been good with people and speaks in a way that makes people root for his success even if it was unintentional to begin with. He’s charming in a way that seems humble. Heeseung has a skill for making you feel like you are the only person in the room when he talks to you. You’re sure it’s why people feel drawn to him and why everybody loves being around Heeseung so much. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

Sometimes, you grow envious of how easy it is for Heeseung to get people to like him. Career prospects aside, it’s almost as if he can convince anyone he’s somebody worth being friends with. Cashiers love him because he doesn’t make small talk awkward. He’s not afraid to talk to strangers and strike up a conversation with somebody while waiting for his coffee order. Heeseung is bashful enough to come across as sincere and it seems to reel people in.

He inspires you in ways that you can’t fathom but simultaneously reminds you that you’ve got no future or prospect. It’s unfair to compare yourself to your best friend, but being in such close proximity where people praise him next to you are constant reminders that your life hasn’t begun and you don’t know if it ever will. Your life feels stagnant compared to his exciting one. While Heeseung spends his days and nights perfecting his dance techniques and vocal skills, you sit in your room and wonder what life would be like if you could touch the moon.

There are days where you wish you could be as suave and charming as he can be. You feel awkward around people you don’t know and limit yourself to new experiences when it feels too intimidating. You’re not somebody who’s confident enough to start a conversation, let alone with somebody you aren’t familiar with. Where Heeseung excels in the socializing department, you find yourself playing catch-up every time you see him befriend yet another person you aren’t familiar with. It’s a wonder how you two became as close as you are.

Meeting him had been by chance. You knew him from friends of friends and saw him in the hallways between class periods but never had a reason to talk to him until the two of you were partnered for a class project. The newfound partnership felt oddly comfortable from the minute Heeseung introduced himself to you with that same charming smile everyone knows him to have. His wit and humor brewed the perfect potion for you to feel like caring for him as deeply as you do would become inevitable. It wasn’t a bet on if you would fall for him as hard as you did, but when.

You’re inclined to believe you keep it hidden well. Heeseung is far too oblivious most times to see you as anything other than his best friend. You’ve treated him like a friend far longer than you’ve liked him romantically, so acting as if you don’t have feelings for him is easy when you remind yourself that having him in your life would be better than the alternative. Still, you have moments where you yearn to hold his hand and kiss him before he leaves for practice.

“Do you want to come to the next showcase this weekend?” Heeseung asks, nudging your side with his elbow. You pry your attention away from Minjun’s phone to look at him. “It’s gonna be a small one in the company theater. There’s going to be a bunch of important people in the industry. Allegedly.”

“Of course I’ll come, Heeseung. This is you we’re talking about. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The smile he gives you is blinding.

“I really appreciate you supporting me, you know that? I don’t say it often, but I should. Thank you for always supporting me.”

Your heart bursts.

“I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t do at least that,” you tell him.

“My parents and Minjun are gonna be there too so you won’t be alone.” He smiles at you like he knew you were worried about who to sit with, let alone if there’s going to be important people that could determine Heeseung’s career.

“Thanks,” you mumble, an overwhelming feeling of shyness overtaking you. “It’s silly that you have to look out for me all the time.”

“No, not silly,” he says immediately, pushing his head to your shoulder. You don’t imagine this position is very comfortable for him, but Heeseung seems keen on staying in this position. “We’re kids, Y/N. You don’t need to have your life together. I’ll always look out for you and walk you through it if that’s what you need.”

You sigh. “You know, one day, you’re going to become so famous that you’ll inevitably be too busy for me.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No I won’t. Who checks up on me every day after practice? Who do I come to when I need to cry? Who do I invite to my home when I’m not even here?”

“Technically, your parents invite me over when you’re not here.”

Heeseung pinches your thigh. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re not getting rid of me. It’s like, scientifically impossible to separate the two of us.”

“Thanks, Hee.” You feel him nod against you before he lifts his head from your shoulder. “I just feel like I get in my own head sometimes. You know what you want to do for the rest of your life and I barely know what I want for breakfast tomorrow.”

“We don’t always have to figure it out. I know saying that feels like bullshit because I’m training to become an idol but I’m serious. There are so many people we know who don’t know what they’re doing with their lives.”

“It feels like my life could very well be over.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

You make a face at him. “I know.”

“You’ll find something for you, okay? You’re barely an adult anyway. You still have college and all of that shit to figure it out.”

“You’re right.”

“As always.”

“Don’t push it, Heeseung.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you to the showcase. They pick you up and the four of you have a quick dinner before heading over to the company’s theater and you feel somewhat like an important industry person when you’re given a badge with ‘VIP’ on it to signify that you’re part of the family and friends entourage. You see a group of people with clipboards and pens at the ready, dressed like they’ve just come from important meetings that determine the futures of each trainee. Perhaps that’s who they are. Some of these well-dressed individuals have younger people standing beside them, presumably assistants or something as such.

It feels very formal and you’re wondering if the long skirt and long sleeve top you’re wearing is too childish. Everybody who looks important seems to be donning suits or dresses that make them look like they stepped out of a drama show. It doesn’t matter how many times you remind yourself that you’re young and not here to mingle with corporate executives. You still feel like the floor should swallow you whole and spit you out with a new wardrobe that matches everyone else’s.

Heeseung’s parents chat with a few people they recognize and leave you and Minjun to fend for yourselves (or, rather, it feels that way). The young girl beside you hooks her arm with yours when you’ve been quiet for a moment too long and starts to lead you down the aisles.

“Everyone in here looks so stuffy,” she whispers. “People working in entertainment should look like they’re having fun.”

“I feel a little silly in this skirt,” you admit.

“You look great,” Minjun tells you as she bumps your hip with hers. “My mom made me wear this stupid dress that I can barely breathe in.”

“I happen to think you look very cute, Minnie.”

“But I don’t want to look cute,” she whines quietly. “I want to look like an adult.”

“Yeah, well you can look like an adult when you are one. For now, just be happy that somebody finds you cute enough to do things for you.”

Minjun wants to argue but doesn’t. In the time that she’s known you, there hasn’t been a reason for her to distrust anything you say to her because you’ve never had a reason to lie. It’s why she’s likely to listen to you over her own brother, a fact that Heeseung holds a mild grudge over.

“I guess you’re right. I can’t even drive. I need people to drive me places.”

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, driving can be a pain sometimes. Enjoy your youth while you have it, okay?” Minjun rolls her eyes in a way that lets you know she’s joking. Being outwardly affectionate doesn’t seem to run in the Lee sibling genes, but you’d like to think you know them well enough to tell when they’re being genuine.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

You try to tell yourself that, too. When everybody finds their seats and when the showcase begins, you’re in awe of how many talented people there are in the room when you hear their incredible vocal abilities and make performing in front of a crowd look easy. It’s easy to spot Heeseung when he’s dancing with a group of people you’ve never seen before. He always looks as if he’s floating on air, moving his body in ways you can’t fathom and he makes learning difficult choreography seem like a walk in the park. You’ve heard him sing before but not to this extent. The steady tone he delivers when he dances amazes you beyond comprehension and Minjun would later swear that she saw stars in your eyes when you watched her brother perform like this for the first time.

What Heeseung neglected to tell you was that he secured a solo spot after months of impressing his coaches. He performs one of his favorite songs and moves across the stage like he was always meant to be dancing on it. From here, Heeseung looks like a celestial being with the lights cascading down his body. You hold your breath the entire time he sings on that stage and clap the loudest when everybody gives him a standing ovation. You peek to the side to see the same, stuffy executives nodding after his performance and write down things on their clipboards that you can only hope are praises and nothing but.

Heeseung’s parents make their way to the front of the stage when the house lights turn on. They talk to people you don’t recognize and you find yourself following them instead of looking like an awkward mess, as everybody else has chosen to stand from their seats and greet the performers that have come out from backstage.

Your best friend looks magnificent with his makeup and the outfit he last performed in. He looks like a real idol in this light and pride swells within your chest when people applaud him for his incredible performance before he reaches you. His smile turns bigger when he sees you and Minjun approaching him behind his parents and makes his way to engulf you in a hug.

“You’re here,” he breathes.

“I’d always said I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”

“I think this was the most important showcase of my life.”

It would be hard to ignore Heeseung’s arm wrapped around your waist like he’s done it a thousand times before. It’s true that the two of you aren’t strangers to physical touch, but he never lingers on you like he is now. Still, you chalk it up to overflowing happiness and you can sense that Heeseung is genuinely pleased with himself. He isn’t pretending that he performed well like he does when he avoids going home after practice in lieu of spending time with you in your mother’s apartment.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Minjun praises.

“Language,” Heeseung chides, removing his arm from your waist to pinch her cheek. “Thank you for coming too. Where are eomma and appa?”

Minjun points to where they are. “I think they were waiting for you to come out and started talking to the coaches.”

“We should make our way there.”

“You should,” you tell him, pushing Heeesung towards his parents. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Nonsense.” Heeseung shakes his head and grabs your wrist as best as he can with multiple bodies trying to squeeze past the three of you.

When Heeseung pulls you away, you’re sure to grab onto Minjun’s hand so she doesn’t get lost in a sea of people either. Mr. and Mrs. Lee beam when they see their son approaching and Heeseung drops your wrist in favor of being smothered with affection by his parents. You can tell he feels embarrassed to be doted on in front of his peers because of how his ears are turning red, but you sit back and laugh with Minjun when she points it out loud.

You let them talk and watch as people clad in business attire approach Heeseung and his parents. You're not sure if Heeseung knows them or not but he smiles and shakes their hands, going so far as to bow to their assistants as well. He talks to them like he’s been in this business for decades, making people laugh and remaining as humble as ever when people praise his performance skill. You’re not sure how Heeseung handles all of this attention and praise at the same time, or even what it must feel like to be talented enough to have people approach you.

As you observe everybody else, it’s clear that Heeseung is the star of tonight’s showcase. The other performers did a fantastic job as well, but something about your best friend draws executives to him, and you’re sure everyone who hasn’t spoken to Heeseung is waiting for their turn. It feels exhausting to watch people socialize. You can only guess how exhausted Heeseung might be.

Minjun joins her parents a little while later at their request, leaving you alone for the time being. You pull your phone out and text your mom that you’re still at the showcase and will let her know when Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you back to the apartment. You use this as an excuse to look busy, replying to a few friends that you didn’t have time to respond to before coming to the showcase. But those conversations are dry and leave you without a distraction.

“Y/N, come here!”

Heeseung calls your name and your head snaps to where he’s standing. He beckons you over with a wave and you awkwardly waddle to where he’s standing. His family aren’t with him and you wonder just how long you’ve been looking at your phone for.

“This is my best friend, Y/N,” Heeseung says as he pulls you closer to him. “Y/N, meet Kim Namjoon. He’s the president and founder of Big Hit.”

“It’s lovely to meet you.” The bow is almost automatic and you’re sure to put on a good first impression to help any reputation Heeseung has with Namjoon. You bow at an angle that’s deeper than a common greeting but just shy of ninety-degrees.

Namjoon returns in kind. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Heeseung’s a talented one, isn’t he?”

“He’s the best at what he does,” you say earnestly. “I’ve never seen anybody work as hard as him in my entire life. Pardon if I’m overstepping, but I think Big Hit is incredibly lucky to have him.”

He laughs at your politeness. “I feel the same. It’s not every day you come across someone who’s skilled at, well, everything.”

“You know, when Heeseung and I were younger, we had this ongoing joke that he could master anything on the first try. I think it’s what makes him special, you know?”

“Guys, please don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Heeseung whines. His cheeks are red but both you and Namjoon laugh in good fun.

“There’s a reason why I chose Heeseung to be tonight’s soloist,” Namjoon informs. “This showcase is meant for people in the industry and if I’m being honest with you, I think you’ll be getting good remakes on your review.”

Heeseung beams. “Wow…I don’t know what to say.”

“He says ‘thank you,’” you answer for him. “I can’t imagine what training must be like but I do know that all of it has paid off. Thank you for giving Heeseung a chance to prove himself.”

There’s a glint in Namjoon’s eye.

“Have you ever considered working in publicity?” Namjoon asks you.

“No, why do you ask?”

“I think you’d have a real talent for it.” Namjoon says it in a way that feels too casual for a showcase, especially if he’s the one in charge of the company Heeseung is training under. “You speak well for Heeseung.”

“Oh…thank you.”

He turns to Heeseung and claps him on the back. “There’s more to being an idol than training and performing. You need people who know you and know the business. It’s important to make your career thrive because you can be the most talented person in the world, but if you don’t have the right people around you, none of that will matter.”

Heeseung nods. “Y/N’s always been my champion.”

“I can see.” Namjoon smiles at you. “Entertainment is not for the faint of heart and there’s more to it than being photographed. You need to be in the right places at the right time and know the right people who can get you there. That’s what publicity does for you. Y/N’s already doing it and she’s not working in entertainment yet.”

Somehow, his words feel comforting. “I haven’t thought about what I want to do with my life but that seems like something I could do.”

“It’s important work. Heeseung can perform the shit out of his solo but it doesn’t mean anything if he has nowhere to perform it.”

Namjoon smiles at the both of you before his name is being called from behind him.

“Great job on your solo, Heeseung.” He turns to you. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” He bows once more to the both of you before departing.

“I feel like I’m buzzing,” Heeseung says as he puts an arm loosely around you. “It was like I was the only person in the room when I was performing, you know? The dance with the other guys was amazing and all of that but I feel like I was on another level when it was just me up there.”

“You were incredible, Hee. I mean that. I don’t know a single person more talented than you.”

Heeseung smiles down at you.

“You know, it means a lot that you come to see me. Sometimes I wonder if people talk to me because they know I’m training to become an idol but you never make me feel like that. It feels natural and genuine. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thanks.”

You push him away from you, a giddy smile tugging on the edge of your lips. Heeseung is affectionate but less so in his vocabulary, choosing to tease you because it’s his way of letting you know he cares for you. Hearing him be so open and vulnerable tugs at your heartstrings and it makes you feel like you could achieve anything.

“I’ll always be here for you, remember? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung’s life changes for the better after the night of the showcase when Namjoon tells him he’s secured a debut spot underneath their brand new label, Belift. Happiness flows within the Lee household and you’re nearly in tears when you realize all your best friend has worked for has finally paid off.

But with it comes uncertainty and your fears are slowly becoming a reality when Heeseung stops talking to you as frequently as he used to.

It comes with the job and you’re more than aware of how much Heeseung has on his plate between preparing for his debut and trying to fit in with the industry. You can’t imagine what life must be like for him now that his dream is just a few weeks away of becoming a reality but part of you wonders if it’s too difficult for him to keep you hanging on a leash.

He calls his parents and Minjun as often as he gets. You know because Minjun swings by your mother’s apartment with Mrs. Lee on Saturday mornings to drop off baked goods, updating you on the latest she’s heard from her older brother. You try your best to quell your jealousy because they’re his family after all, but part of you feels like you have a right to call yourself his family too after all he said to you during the night of the showcase and all you’ve done for him.

You’re sure Mr. and Mrs. Lee can sense it too. Heeseung no longer lives at home, having moved into his own dorm in the heart of Seoul, thirty minutes from you. You aren’t a stranger to their household without his presence but you’ve gradually stopped coming by unless Minjun calls you from Mrs. Lee’s phone to ask you to hang out.

Texts and calls slowly diminish with his new line of work. You went from hearing from him every day to every other day, to nothing at all.

Seeing the blue delivered messages without any indication that he’s acknowledged you, makes you feel like a second priority. But you don’t know if you get the right to feel like this when you know how busy he is and the weight of his debut. Heeseung’s got one shot to make a good first impression and the last thing you want is to distract him from achieving his childhood dream of being a successful idol.

Still, the silence stings.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung knows you’re waiting on him and ignores the pit in the bottom of his stomach that tells him to text you back.

His new life has changed in ways he couldn’t fathom. When Namjoon told him the news about his debut and all of the details surrounding it, Heeseung felt as if the weight of the world was no longer a burden for him to carry, and that all he has ever wanted would eventually come to fruition. His new friends, namely the three guys around his age who have trained to become musicians, are people he gets along with more than he thought he would. Heeseung’s newfound excitement about the next chapter of his life takes him to new heights and he finds himself spending more time with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon as they prepare for the debut showcase.

Heeseung knows you’re waiting for him back at home but it’s so hard to focus on you when he’s wrapped up in his new life. Making time to see you is hard enough as it is and he knows you’re as patient as can be. In the years he’s been friends with you, Heeseung knows that your resilience knows no bounds and all that you’ve experienced in your lifetime has built the strong-willed, confident person he knows you to be.

But his new life gets him caught up in the feeling of the present success. The three guys have known each other far longer than Heeseung has known them, only greeting each other in passing since all four of them were training in different areas of performance art. It wasn’t until they were living together that Heeseung started befriending them beyond practice and rehearsals. Jake’s the one who includes Heeseung the most on group outings or spending time playing video games in the living room. His entire life he’s been alone or with just you, seldom having a group of guys who just gets him.

Heeseung tucks away the nagging feeling in the back of his head when he and Jay are preparing a meal for the four of them when he sees a text from you.

hey hee, are you busy right now? it’s been a while since we hung out and i thought it would be nice to go get boba, or something. my treat !! <3

He shoves his phone in his back pocket before Jay can notice him staring at the screen. The message goes unanswered for the rest of the night as he basks in the company of his friends-slash-coworkers, the thought of getting boba with you far removed from his mind. Playing video games and getting to know the people he’ll likely be working with for the foreseeable future takes precedent. It’s what Heeseung keeps telling himself.

After a while, the guilt no longer eats him alive. You’re busy focusing on graduating and preparing to attend university in the fall while he’s made his debut with his newfound best friends. It’s no surprise to anyone that Heeseung’s fanbase grows at a nearly alarming rate after he makes his debut. He grows popular with each day that passes and it feels like Heeseung has become the face of the newest generation overnight.

He’ll wonder what you’re up to from time to time and let you know how he’s doing. Heeseung first sends a text to apologize, lying about not seeing your text sooner and that he’d love to get boba with you when he has the time. You tell him not to worry because you know he’s busy. He texts you pictures of his first performance and scenic pictures of the cities he visits because of his travel and promotion schedule. You update him on the end of the school year and how your mother is dealing with you moving away for college.

The texts become sparse as the two of you resume your separate lives and Heeseung doesn’t realize that you don’t text him until the day of your graduation–the day that he was supposed to graduate if he hadn’t deferred to the trainee program–wishing him well and that you’re thinking of him. You send a video of yourself pulling your tassel over the graduation cap and he feels nothing for the lost time when he’s on his way to promote his first album overseas.

It’s for my career, he tells himself when he realizes how much time has passed since he thought of you. I��m doing what’s best for me and everybody else needs to get used to it.

It isn’t until Heeseung is permitted a few days off that he comes home per his parents’ request. He doesn’t tell them that he’s a bit homesick even though his dorm is a thirty minute drive, but it feels oceans away when his days are packed from morning until night. He tells his parents about his travels and what kinds of food he’s been eating when he’s overseas. Heeseung gifts Minjun all of the trinkets and souvenirs he bought from his time promoting his album, and what his future holds for him when he returns to his life as an idol. Mr. and Mrs. Lee applaud their son’s hard work, yet they can’t help but feel like there’s a piece of a puzzle missing because you aren’t here to celebrate with them.

You make a visit at Minjun’s request. When you arrive, you’re stunned to learn that Heeseung is back at home and only has the evening until he needs to return to work. Heeseung can see the disappointment that festers in your eyes and the way your shoulder droops as you smile at him for his family’s sake, although he knows it’s false bravado because your grin doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

He leads you upstairs to his bedroom when Mr. Lee insists that the two of you spend some time together after not having seen each other in ages. It feels awkward to be in his childhood bedroom with the door just slightly ajar at this moment, but it isn’t anything completely new.

What is new, however, is seeing that you’ve dyed your hair a different color and that you’ve gotten your ears pierced.

“You look good,” he says, lifting his hand to toy with the end of your hair. “It matches your skin tone nicely.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you do it recently? It looks fresh.”

You don’t note that Heeseung also has a different hair color than his natural jet black.

“Two weeks ago. My cousin did it for me.”

He nods. “Nice. It looks good. I see that you’re wearing necklaces too.”

“Yeah. I decided it was time to stop being a child and get it over with.”

“You know, you don’t have to do things if you don’t want to.” You throw a pointed look at Heeseung and it’s an expression he’s unfamiliar with.

“I know. But I like earrings and that’s why I wanted to get them pierced.”

Heeseung wipes his hand on his pants at the awkward tension in the room. He knows he’s to blame. His schedule and priorities have pulled him away from you and the life he’s built prior to debuting, but can anyone blame him? Can anyone blame him for not being able to balance his life when he’s been given the keys to a new empire?

“Well, it was nice seeing you.” You throw a cheap smile in his direction and motion to open the door until Heeseung grabs your wrist, causing you to turn around.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “You have an early day tomorrow.”

Heeseung sharks his head. “It’s fine. I don’t have to be back in Seoul until ten anyway. I’ve missed you and I want to spend time with you before I absolutely have to fall asleep.”

You scoff. “That’s real funny, Heeseung. You missed me but all of my texts and calls go unanswered.”

He frowns. “You know that I’m busy most days.”

“And nights?”

“I’m with the guys back at the dorm.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue.

“See, I would know all of this if you bothered to talk to me at all but it sees that your new life is treating you just fine.”

You make another move to leave his room but he closes the door, startling you with the loud noise. He apologizes quietly and uses his body to block you from leaving for the time being.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy between promotion and rehearsal that it’s hard to keep track of who I keep up with and who I don’t.”

“You’re talking to me like I’ve never seen you cry before,” you say with a disappointed sigh. “You act like I’m somebody you once knew in a past life.”

“Not true. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friends would bother to talk to each other. You know that, right? I don’t exist just so you can pick and choose when you need somebody to talk to. It makes me feel like you don’t actually care about me, Heeseung. It makes me feel like you’ve ever cared about our friendship unless you needed a shoulder to cry on and I was the first person who would listen to you.”

“That’s not true. I’m just busy.”

“I get that, I really do. But it’s been months, Heeseung. I know that I can’t have your attention all the time and I know I can’t see you as often as I did. But would it kill you to let me know you’re alive? The only time I hear about you is when other people talk about you or when I see you on billboards. That doesn’t feel like a friendship to me.”

His fists ball at his side and his frustration surfaces. Heeseung is frustrated at everyone–himself for being unable to say ‘no’ to his new friends, you for expecting so much of him, and his company for keeping him as busy as he is. But he doesn’t know how to communicate that, not when you’re standing in front of him, looking like he’s the villain in your life when he feels like he’s not.

“Well that’s life, Y/N,” Heeseung settles. “Sometimes we need to learn when to prioritize things over others.”

You laugh humorlessly. “Is that the hill you’re going to die on? You’re too busy to send a simple text back or let me know that you’re, I don’t know, okay?”

“You can’t be a priority all the time.”

“I know that. I’m not asking you to drop everything for me just because I called you. I’m asking you to treat me like somebody you care about, Heeseung. Is that too much to ask?”

The anger Heeseung feels within him feels misplaced, but your inability to hear him about makes him even angrier. It’s unfair for you to demand such things of him when he’s pursuing everything he’s ever dreamed of.

“Yes, it is too much to ask,” Heeseung bites back. “You don’t understand the gravity of what I do for a living and it’s hard to appreciate it when you’re breathing down my neck. God, when did you become such a clingy person, Y/N? The world doesn’t revolve around you and I don’t owe you shit just because you can’t handle that I’m busier than you are.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m being dead serious.” Heeseung steps away from the door. “You of all people know how badly I want this and now it’s like you’re not letting me enjoy what I’ve worked for. What kind of friend does that make you?”

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can catch them. His need to be the victim in an uncertain period of his life causes him to misdirect his frustration with adapting to his new life and the proof is written all over your face.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean–”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Just don’t.”

Frozen, Heeseung watches you open his door with such force that it nearly slams into him. He’s quick on his feet to follow you downstairs where he sees his family looking perplexed when you’ve opened the front door without saying goodbye.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it!” Heesueng yells when you’ve crossed the threshold of his household. “Please come back inside.”

“You made it very clear that I have no place in your new life. Congratulations, I hope you’re happy.”

You walk away while the deep feelings of disappointment and uncertainty settles in Heeseung’s chest. He walks back inside and closes the door behind him to see Minjun and his parents in a deep stupor, trying to make sense of the scene that has just unfolded before them.

“What happened?” Mrs. Lee asks.

“Y/N and I…” his voice cracks. “I don’t think we’re friends anymore.”

The room is silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Minjun says without a smile.

Heeseung wants to tell her that she’s wrong and whatever conversation they must’ve heard was a product of two friends having their first serious argument. Heeseung’s own frustrations towards his new life is something he doesn’t talk about often because he’s worked so hard to become the person he is, and it would be ungrateful to complain about what he has yearned for his entire life. It bottled up so much that hearing you accuse him of being a poor friend caused him to unravel and say things he doesn’t mean.

Mrs. Lee beats him to speaking.

“Don’t say that, Minjun.”

The young girl remains quiet and refuses to meet Heeseung’s eye.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

In the few years that follow, you resist rolling your eyes when you see Heeseung’s face in magazine ads and billboards across the city. Life takes you to university where you spend the next four years deciding on the rest of your life before you settle on something everybody said you’d be good at.

Graduation approaches far sooner than you’d like and it becomes bittersweet when you see the Lee family, sans Heeseung, in the stadium next to your mom, who are all equally shedding tears as your name is called. Heeseung being absent feels hollow, like another reminder that people choose to leave your life without a moment’s notice but for the sake of keeping up appearances, you smile at the camera when you accept your diploma.

It’s not a surprise to you when you find yourself working in entertainment like Kim Namjoon said you could all those years ago.

A job is a job, but he was right when he told you this would be something you’d excel at. Day in and day out, your responsibilities differ as you begin working at Hybe, formerly Big Hit, to manage the profiles and public appearances of idols and other public figures alike.

Heeseung doesn’t hear from you much. His parents update him on your coursework and send him photos of you at graduation. He cries every so often when he feels the urge to call you and tell you about his day, but doesn’t know whether he has the right to do that anymore. The years in his position has taught him what true life balance is, especially with the media and paparazzi taking an interest in his personal life.

It feels so exhausting to have nobody you can depend on. These days, it’s just him and the three boys he met at the beginning of his career. Heeseung’s popularity has grown so much that he can’t tell up from down. It drowns him in a way he never anticipated and the politics of fame and the industry wasn’t something he accounted for when he began dreaming about a career in the performance space.

Perhaps it’s why he spends his days feeling listless, like he’s got no real potential after achieving his dream. He knows his managers worry for his health and that the other trainees in the building can sense something has been off for a while. Maybe it’s why he roams the halls with headphones on to drown out the noise that’s become his everyday life, with talks of meetings and promotions and everything Heeseung wishes to get away from, if for only one day.

When Heeseung bumps into somebody on his way out of the company elevator, his first instinct is to lean down to collect the papers that have fallen haphazardly on the floor. He pushes his headphones until they rest around his neck and stands to hand them back to the person he bumped into. Only, he feels his body freeze when he sees who it is.

Like Heeseung has always believed, if you really love someone, they will always come back to you.

“Y/N?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

potential part two ft. the rest of enha … this was a therapy piece lol

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfvr @luvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @engeneeee-168 @friendlyuser57 @moony-mari @trdhgg @sleepyhoon @sunghoonsgfreal @i02hoonz @riksaes @021894s @zeeloveshee @jwnghyuns @vhuteryh @cloudiesblog @awsome209 @fleurixzs @xiaoderrrr @marshwatz @aeripark0703 @bambangan @papichulomacy .

apologies to all tumblr wouldn't tag. :)

#lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen angst #heeseung #my writing #never to keep

247 notes · View notes