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ieirism · 8 months

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I'm absolutely in love with your fics, I saw requests were open and I had to pop in! If it's not a problem, could you write a little scenario in which Kazuha knows s/o is crushing on him? Maybe s/o isn't aware of their own feelings yet but they dote on Kazuha like crazy and that makes him so 🥺

declaration.

pairing: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader

contains: fluff and possibly ooc kazuha bc i struggle writing my favorite characters for some reason please dont hate me

for @yandere-romanticaa <3

note: ana you are so amazing and i'm so sorry it took me way too long to fulfill your request. i’m so honored that you took time to send me an ask and i hope you enjoy 🥹

You’ve known the familiar saltiness of the ocean breeze for as long as you can remember. All your life you’ve been at sea as the doctor of the famous Crux fleet. Even now, the splashing of the waves against the sides of the docked ships fills your ears with their gentle greeting and calms your aching body.

Your eyes slip closed as you take in the scent of the sea, and try to steer yourself away from focusing on the alcohol rushing through your veins. For being part of the crew of a famous pirate captain known for her love of alcohol, your tolerance is embarrassingly low.

Beidou, leader of the legendary Crux fleet, is a household name admired by many, including yourself. You’ve always longed to be as courageous and bold as she is. Yet, you’re seemingly cursed with your shy and soft-spoken personality, unable to emerge from your shell.

You’re reminded of this again as roars of laughter sound from below the crow’s nest in which you perch, your fellow crew mates celebrating another successful arrival at Liyue Harbor. If you had a single social bone in your body, you would have a half a mind to party right along with them. After all, the fleet had recently returned from Inazuma, and although it would kill half the crew to admit it, many were afraid that they wouldn’t be making it back because of the current condition of the nation.

Inazuma.

While just as strict and frightening that the rumors made it out to be, the trip had not been entirely fruitless, especially for you.

After all, that’s where you ended up meeting him.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

A young man from Inazuma that Beidou allowed onto her ships, a runaway from the wrath of the Almighty Shogun. Mild and tranquil, gentle and calm, yet his strength and will could not be disregarded even by the most ignorant of fools. You had seen his blade in battle, and witnessed the mercilessness even a kind man like him could display.

Your closed eyes tighten, and so does your heart. You want to blame the alcohol you had poured down your throat for the ache in your chest at the thought of him, and yet, you know it’s futile. He had not only shown you kindness like he had everyone else, but also genuine interest and compassion. He had paid you what your foolish self had interpreted as special attention, offering to assist in the hospital wing, inviting you to sit with him on the deck to watch the stars, bringing you meals when you were preoccupied by your work—although you’ve only spent a few short months with him, you’ve already grown attached to him.

You had convinced yourself to be fine with living in the shadows; you have come to terms with the fact. You didn’t mind living your life with no permanent company, content with yourself and the view of the ocean. And yet, when Kazuha had conversed with you with such tenderness in his eyes, how could your heart not be stirred after being neglected for so long?

You can’t exactly describe what you feel for him, only that you long to be by his side. He’s almost magnetic to you; you’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt this way for anyone—although you don’t know the word for it, it’s been consuming you.

You briefly wish you could have another drink.

You don’t typically consume alcohol, hence your pathetic status as a lightweight. Yet, a few hours ago, something deep inside you shattered when, while attempting to search for Kazuha, you heard a few rumors flitting about within the crew. Apparently, Kazuha planned to leave the crew and stay in Liyue for the time being, at least until the political problems in Inazuma had been quelled to some extent.

You were so pathetically devastated; you know Kazuha has been a wandering warrior for a long time now, so it made sense for him to not want to be tied down for too long. However, logical thinking couldn’t erase the pang in your chest, and before you knew it, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, thoughts muddled and limbs heavy.

You felt foolish for ever thinking you would truly be alright with being alone. After he came along, your whole world had changed – and if he was truly about to leave you, everything would change once more. This time, you don’t know if you could lie to yourself about your loneliness, not with the hole in your heart that had already started to form.

You had barely been able to climb up to the crow’s nest in your intoxicated state, but you managed to do so without hurting yourself. You often came up there in the dead of night when everyone was asleep. For many years, it was only yourself sitting up there, staring at the sky. Whether it was starry or foggy or rainy, having a moment of peace on your own always brought you comfort.

Despite your intentions of moping in your feelings by yourself, you’re not alone. Perhaps if you weren’t so intoxicated, you would have noticed the very man on your mind watching you from just below you on the deck. Kazuha’s scarlet eyes are gentle as they gaze upon your small form curled up in the crow’s nest, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he watches you.

You’re simply exquisite, moonlight bathing you in a heavenly glow as stars twinkle merrily behind you. You’re facing away from him, but he can happily imagine your pretty face admiring the twinkling night sky. He had gone into Liyue Harbor to buy you rice buns, which you had mentioned several times to be your favorite food. You often spoke about how much you missed food from your home nation, especially this one particular treat, so Kazuha had wanted to surprise you.

You deserve this, and so much more. You hardly ever get to rest, always tending to the injured and weak without complaint. You’re careful and tender with your hands, strong and capable with your knowledge, and kind and humble with your heart.

He’d been imagining the beautiful delight that he hoped would overtake your features, radiating the most gorgeous form of joy that he had only felt from the warmth of your smile. You would direct this pure happiness only at him, pretty eyes sparkling. Kazuha considered himself a lucky man to have been able to see this expression of yours, as you were characterized as quite indifferent by the rest of the crew.

The more selfish part of him basks in the idea that he has been the only to see your true happiness, and to a greater extent, been the source of it. He knows the effect he has on you; your stuttered words and averted gazes never did much to hide your feelings. Nor did the way you dote on him even when he isn’t badly injured, tending to his wounds with feather-light touches and soft words of reassurance.

Kazuha knows all this, but remains careful – any wrong move could drive you away, so he moves slowly, inconspicuously. He couldn’t make his intentions clear from the start, or knowing you, you may have become overwhelmed.

This never stopped him, however, from staying close to you and reveling in the way you showed your affections for him, even in the small and unintentional ways.

He’s not as amiable and kind as you might think; he doesn’t spend time with you because he pities you. Although he puts up an easygoing, polite persona with everyone around him, he always knows exactly what he wants, and isn’t afraid to pursue it. Kazuha simply can’t get enough of you, the same way he knows you can’t get enough of him.

Tonight, he’s decided to make it clear, once and for all, that he loves you just as much as you love him.

Kazuha deftly climbs up the crow’s nest, steps light and quick so as to not disturb or startle you. When he reaches the top, he calls out to you. “May I join you?” Unnaturally slow, you turn your head to meet his gaze, and – have you been crying?

“Kazuha.” You croak his name softly, a fresh wave of sadness seemingly washing over you as you register his presence. Kazuha wastes no time in rushing to comfort you, face pulled into an uncharacteristic display of panicked concern.

“What happened?” His voice is still composed and calm, but his heart is hurting, aching, at the sight of you in distress. You don’t say anything in response, only staring blankly right at him. Several wine bottles are scattered around you; it’s not difficult to deduce that you were intoxicated, and severely so.

What had made you, who typically avoided alcohol like the plague, end up like this?

Before he could continue trying to coax an answer from you, you suddenly raise one hand, reaching over to poke at his chest with your index finger, hard. Your sad expression morphs into one of frustration instead, eyebrows furrowing as you try to form a coherent thought.

“Y-You.” One word. You curl your fingers into the front of his haori. Kazuha raises his eyebrows, confused by both your reply and sudden boldness. You had never attempted to touch him besides when you were healing him, despite all of the time you’d spent together.

“Me?” Kazuha starts to worry; had he done something truly unforgivable to upset you? While he himself can’t remember any action that could’ve made you act like this, it very well could’ve been unintentional and yet warranted an apology all the same. You don’t speak for another few moments, keeping your grip on his clothing as you stare down at your lap, seemingly having lost some of your nerve.

“I-Is your arm a-alright?” Your eyes dart toward where his wound is wrapped by thick cloth, done by your own hand only hours earlier. You had tears stinging your eyes while tending to his injuries, something that never happens. After years of dealing with medical emergencies, nothing fazes you anymore—nothing, apparently, except seeing Kazuha wince slightly in pain even when you do your best to be gentle.

“Of course.” Kazuha smiles softly at you. “All thanks to you.” You’re quiet again, as if slowly digesting his words. You shift on your feet, fingers still gripping his clothes.

“...D-Don’t leave me.” Your voice comes out small. Your lip quivers. Kazuha’s heart drops into his stomach.

“Leave you?” he repeats your words quietly, in disbelief.

“Don’t.” Another few tears trip down your face. He calls your name softly, and in response, you finally lift your head to look at him again.

“Where did you hear that I would leave you?” he asks, gently taking your now unfurled hand that was still resting on his chest.

“They s-said you were s-staying in L-Liyue.” You hiccup, the hand encased in his own curling into a fist.

Kazuha pauses, finally starting to understand the situation. It was true that some time ago, he had planned to wander Liyue until he would be allowed back in Inazuma peacefully. He remembers saying so in response to several crew members asking how long he would be staying with the Crux fleet. This would’ve been the plan, if not for the defining factor that ultimately swayed his decision to remain on the ship for longer.

“Staying? I’m only visiting.” Kazuha smiles gently, revealing the bag full of rice buns and placing it in front of you. “For this.” For you.

Your eyes brighten a little at the familiar scent and sight of your favorite food. Your vision clears a little as Kazuha wipes at your tears with a careful brush of his fingers. Your mouth runs dry, completely forgetting about the rice buns you had been missing for months as you take in the sight of him.

His light hair is blessed with a soft glow from the moon, his kind scarlet eyes glittering with concern and yet a hint of… amusement? Is this even real? Is he really not going to leave? The horrible, fleeting thought that this might be an extensive figment of your imagination crosses your mind.

Kazuha continues to smile tenderly at you, thumb drawing soothing patterns across the apple of your cheek. Your heart starts beating faster, unable to contain the emotions bubbling up inside of you any longer –

You don’t know if you can completely blame the alcohol for the way you collapse into his arms, and he catches your weight as if you were a feather, holding you against him with ease. Kazuha squeezes your hand, still firmly held in his, as if to reassure you that he wouldn’t let you fall. You should be embarrassed, mortified, even, but you can’t bring yourself to care – not when you’re finally, finally as close to him as you’d always wanted to be.

Kazuha’s free hand brushes along the back of your neck, sending goosebumps trailing up your skin. He gently brings your head down to rest right over his racing heart. “Can you hear that?” he hums. “This is how you make me feel.” You sniffle, on the verge of tears once more – you’d been searching for what you feel for him, for so long. As Kazuha cradles you against his chest, even your intoxicated self slowly comes to realization.

Kazuha strokes the top of your head, allowing you to continue listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat. Everything is perfect – his compassion, his patience, his warmth, him. You have never been more certain that in this moment that you really, truly –

“Love you.” The words leave you steady and clear, not a hint of a tipsy slur like everything else you had said to him that night. You’re not even nervous that you might’ve just humiliated yourself; not with the way he held you tighter, communicating without a lack of doubt that –

“I love you, too.” His voice was little more than a whisper, but that was sufficient – no, so much more than enough, for you.

“Please.” You lift your head, still heavy with alcohol, off his chest to meet his gaze. “Please, k-kiss me.” With all of your heart and soul, you expect, hope, want him to lean down and grant your wish, but he simply gives you a soft smile.

“Not like this, my love.”

Kazuha hopes you don’t get him wrong – he wants to kiss you, desperately. He has wanted, for months, nothing more than to feel the sensation of your undoubtedly soft lips against yours, moving in flawless synchronization and doing nothing to quell the desire in his heart, but rather, fuel it.

“P-Please,” you stutter again, with more urgency this time. Somewhere in the back of your frazzled mind, you know he’s right; it would be wrong of him to take advantage of your inebriated state. But you want it, want him. You’ve always considered yourself a rather content person, accepting of what you had and never chasing after more, but for him, you’d keep running for the rest of your life.

Slowly, torturously, Kazuha leans down, and you close your eyes in anticipation – only to feel his lips on your forehead. You open your eyes to see that he has already drawn his face away from yours, one of his hands bringing your head forward against his chest once more.

Kazuha smooths the distressed crinkle that forms between your brows as you realize that he won’t be kissing you tonight. “Don’t worry. There won’t be a need to ask again once you’ve recovered.” His lips curl into a rather cheeky, boyish grin. Your face heats up and your stomach twists into a knot – not the anxious, unpleasant kind, but one of deep yearning.

“Stay w-with me, p-please.” You whisper this as a prayer to Celestia, to him, before you let yourself finally succumb to the wine-indueced sleepiness that had been threatening to overtake you for far too long. As Kazuha rubs soothing circles along your back to ease you into a deep sleep, you feel what you’ve experienced with him and him only – safe, cared for, cherished.

The next morning, you wake up to the squawking of seagulls as well as the crash of the morning tide against the wooden planks of the Alcor. Warm sunlight is already filtering in through a thin layer of clouds, accompanied by a gentle breeze that sweeps through the sails. A pounding headache has settled in your temples, along with an incredibly unpleasant parched feeling in your throat.

The memories of last night come flooding back much faster than you would’ve liked, hitting you all at once and making you outwardly recoil at how you had – oh, my, Kazuha is –

You realize just then you’re still in his arms, his haori wrapped around the two of you for warmth. He’s fast asleep, his snoring quiet and rhythmic.

It was all real.

The gasp that you let out immediately awakens Kazuha; he’s always been a light sleeper. His scarlet eyes snap open abruptly, instinctively scanning the premises for danger before focusing on you. “Are you feeling alright?”

Your face is burning with embarrassment and you’re tripping over your words, feeling guilty for waking him up and trying to ask him to go back to sleep. After a few moments of nonsensical babbling, all you can say is, “The rice buns – “ You never forget to finish your sentence, as Kazuha silences you by placing one of his hands – large, rough and calloused from years of combat yet still so gentle – on your cheek, thumb swiping across your lips. A silent request.

You hardly have time to nod before he pulls you against him in one fluid motion, finally allowing his lips to clash with yours. He kisses you long and deep, with passion and longing lacing every small movement of his mouth against yours. If you had any worries about his feelings not being as intense as your own, they were promptly quashed by the way he greedily swallowed every breath, every noise that threatened to leave you.

When he finally pulls away, you feel like your heart is about to leap from your chest and fly far, far away. Kazuha is smiling, looking at you with something that can only be described as pure, unadulterated adoration burning in his scarlet gaze.

This alone was a declaration. Calm yet firm, and leaving absolutely no room for doubt – that he loves you.

#kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #reader insert #kazuha x you

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clowningaroundmars · 2 months

Text

prowlerbyte hcs

ok..... yall got me. you did. i ship prowlerbyte now 😅 and i'd like to throw out some Thoughts about them bc damnit if this ship doesn't have some Flavor to it that i'd like to share with you all 🤌

both margo and miles g here are from earth 42 tho bc i think miles g has been thru Enough and he deserves someone in his corner in his own universe, besides his family members

LOTS of words under the cut ↓

♡ weirdgirl nerd x edgyboy nerd 100%… you just KNOW IT. miles is absolutely a geek either for comics or anime and he only opens up to his closest friends to let them see that side of him, no one else. margo brings that side out of him often when they meet up (but miles is still p reserved if anyone else is with them)

♡ margo is a fantastic singer and hums mind-blowing runs as easily as she breathes and miles absolutely loves it. when she's depressed, she sings a lot less so whenever she DOES sing that's how he knows she's in a good mood. he loves having her over bc he gets to pull out uncle aaron's old secondhand record player and place rnb and 90's hiphop vinyls on it, playing soulful music that she hums to as they parallel-play or do homework together

♡ when margo first convinced miles to let her do his hair, he was hella worried that his mom would disapprove and chastise him once she saw but she was surprisingly very supportive of it, although a bit hesitant. eventually she was grateful she didnt have to braid her son's hair as often (being a single parent is exhausting enough lol)

♡ rio42 ofc had the same reaction to margo as rio1610 when she 1st met gwen, but when margo eventually started showing up more and more to hang out with the morales fam (and aaron too lol), she grew on rio. they both keep a close eye on miles and try to keep him going towards the right path

♡ in their universe they both go to visions and even have a class together, and they are both very very academically competitive. rio doesn't need to stay on miles' ass about his grades bc margo is right there taunting him with an A+ on a test every single time

♡ they actually ACTUALLY study together in the library or in miles' room during study sessions. neither of them can afford to fall off wrt their grades and they both have big dreams they wanna achieve: margo wants to become a hardlight technician and apply for oscorp (much to miles' chagrin), and miles wants to continue his engineering and robotics career so he can provide for his whole family

♡ margo's parents constantly fighting means she is often over at miles' house more than he is at hers. it actually took her an embarrassingly long amount of time to finally invite him over because she never wanted her parents to know he even existed, let alone actually meet him at all. miles was at first kinda offended she didn't want him to meet her parents even after they got together but when he heard them arguing in the background during a call one day, he finally Understood

♡ after he found out about her crappy home life (and also secretly told rio), she was welcome to stay more often at his place. she has a blanket, a few clothes and several diff books and console games lying around in his room

♡ it honestly also took them both a ridiculously long time to finally start dating. everyone around them shipped them but they remained friends for a long time bc miles was just too closed off and scared to let anyone into his private life like that. also i hc they are both on the ace spectrum but don't realize it until later (listen i see purple characters and i HAVE to wave the ace wand on them ok 😭)

♡ margo is sometimes frustrated at miles for being so secretive and hiding his emotions behind walls, as goofy and dorky as he can be. she wishes he would just come out and be more honest about his feelings but understands that after his dad's passing, its harder for him to communicate his emotions

♡ she was the one who asked him out first, actually. he was beating around the bush way too much and so she finally put her foot down and initiated the relationship

♡ in public or with strangers they are: sunshine x sunshine protector. in private or with family n friends they are: "EXCUSE ME! miles asked for no pickles ☝️" esp since margo is the extrovert and he's the introvert.

♡ miles is actually p jealous and protective of margo and she finds that hilarious.

"i don't need any protecting, babe. i am a certified badass," margo says, flipping her box braids.

miles laughs, winding boxing wraps around his hands and standing in front of his giant punching bag. he looks over at his girlfriend sitting on a bean bag, with her adorable kitten t-shirt and fluffy sweater and grins even wider. "yeah… aight, sure thing."

margo scoffs, noticing his line of sight and looking very offended. "i may look cute and unassuming but that's exactly what i want our enemies to think! it gives me an advantage!"

miles hums, nodding. "mhm. advantage to do what, exactly?"

margo throws an empty soda can at him, which miles easily dodges as he laughs harder.

♡ it's funny, bc on the outside they seem like the stereotypical traditional straight relationship with a macho boy and sweetheart girl. but in reality they're both sarcastic snippy geeks who can both throw down in any verbal argument. and miles adores his gf, he's completely whipped for her. lets her paint his nails and everything, and if anyone tries to make fun of him for it, he doubles down and threatens to fight them over it

♡ they are THAT couple that wears lowkey matching outfits every once in a while. they actually enjoy shopping together which was a relief for both of them bc miles LIVES just to go sneaker shopping and margo absolutely loves trying new things on in the dressing room. theyre also both fashionistas in their own ways and love to accessorize. they swap accessories a lot

♡ whenever they hit up a bookstore, they are the first to head right on over to the manga section. right afterwards, they make a beeline over to the science fiction section and compare their purchases together after leaving

♡ miles is absolutely the "idc what my girl wears bc i know how to fight" boyfriend. margo doesn't go out in revealing outfits or anything, but looking a little TOO adorable in a dystopian city can sometimes paint a target on your back and so miles makes sure she's with him at all times if she wants to put her braids up into heart buns or wear a dress outside

♡ any hardware or mechanical problem that margo has, she takes it straight to miles. miles takes any software or coding issues he has to margo. if those software issues have anything to do with his prowler gear, however… he tries to isolate the issue and explain in vague terms what the problem is to avoid telling his gf he's actually the prowler

♡ no, he has not revealed to margo that he is the prowler yet. he's terrified to see her face when she inevitably finds out anyways, just KNOWING it would doom their relationship to a breakup if she ever figured it out. he does everything in his power to keep her from finding out his secret, even if it means disappointing her when he misses out on dates they set together

♡ they are both total champions at whatever multiplayer video game they get hooked onto. their personal faves are mmorpgs and battle royale games, but they are UNBELIEVABLY competitive when it comes to party games and even board games. they absolutely wipe the floor if they get to team up together

♡ tbqh they're the EXACT level of nerdy that they would consider playing video games in their separate homes as a date. "mmorpg and chill babe?" miles texts margo sometimes as a joking way to ask her on an online date. every minute they spend on voicechat as they kick digital ass together counts as quality time for sure

♡ even tho she's kind of embarrassed about it, margo has an absolutely huge plushie and figurine collection. she was worried miles would judge her SUPER HARD for her lowkey (highkey) special interest in anime figures when he 1st came over to her room, but immediately felt relieved when miles practically flew up to a rare figure she got secondhand from a japanese seller online and started ooohing and aaahing about it

♡ he actually tries to put aside whatever he earns prowling around the city for his mom first. then whatever's left over goes right to margo. he likes taking her out shopping and letting her pick out two or three things and seeing her beam like a sunrise before giving him a kiss on the cheek

♡ miles tries to hide his prowling behind the excuse of getting a job with his uncle at the family auto shop. every time he has a job to do or needs to leave suddenly, he blames it on "an emergency/new car job at the garage". margo eventually starts hating the word "garage"

♡ get either of these 2 to start talking abt their special interest, and it will be like Infodump City in there in 2 secs flat. they listen to each other's infodumping with hearts in their eyes, ESPECIALLY miles. margo goes "hey can i just rant to you about my new interest rq" and he goes "yes ma'am 🥰"

♡ everyone thinks margo is the one who cooks and cleans but hell no. miles is a neat freak whose room is the total opposite of margo's and he spends a lot of time alone at home when his mom is working a double shift and his uncle is out trying to secure another job for them. he knows how to cook like a damn chef by the time he's 16 (and also rio42 is not a toxic boymom. she will not raise any lazy needy son, her boy WILL know how to do laundry, cook meals and wash the damn dishes!)

♡ margo on the other hand tries to avoid the kitchen as often as possible and gets panic attacks when having to clean anywhere else but her own room bc of bad memories of having to sweep up broken glass after hearing her parents have violent fights that left the apartment in tatters. she never got to learn how to cook bc they never taught her, either

♡ margo is actually p traumatized from her parents' constant hateful fighting that she tries to squash down or hide behind a confident mask. but sometimes it pops up in ugly ways like when miles accidentally slams a cupboard door too loudly or a sarcastic comment sounds a little too bitter. her knee-jerk reaction is to always distance herself from miles a bit as a coping mechanism, which they had to work through

♡ miles' own grief and loss traumatized him beyond belief too ofc. after his dad's passing, his anxiety grows and he becomes more withdrawn, easily tired, and forgetful. it becomes worse after he becomes the prowler, bc dipping into the NYC underworld every so often gives p much anyone a healthy dose of paranoia. plus it takes some time away from his gf on top of all of that.

♡ if they're ever at parties or get-togethers at all, its always margo initiating conversations and meeting with people, making introductions and chatting happily. she always happens to have a quiet, chill miles-shaped shadow with her the whole time

♡ if margo was going to date miles, he told her one time, she was GOING to learn how to dance bachata and salsa. throw in a lil reggaeton in there as they get older and rio becomes a TINY bit more chill with seeing them on the dancefloor. they actually become much better at dancing together as they practice at family reunions and birthday parties

♡ miles carries around plush keychains and other trinkets that remind him of margo. he's a total sap when it comes to her, even if he tries to hide just how much he loves her sometimes. his phone's lockscreen is something dark or aesthetic like a city skyline or whatever but then when he unlocks it, margo is always his wallpaper

♡ aaron likes margo, he really does. he worries that miles doesn't have enough friends but he's happy that his nephew has a gf that is genuinely good for him. they all have a great time together whenever they do get downtime to chill together, like playing cards or helping aaron clean the garage

♡ that being said, aaron loves to pretend to sabotage their relationship as a running joke and watch miles get all riled up about it. it is hilarious to him, never gets old.

they're giving the garage connected to the autoshop its bimonthly deep clean just ahead of the yearly inspection.

it's a sunday, the only day of the week that the shop is closed for business and miles is on corner duty once they get down to the concrete floor. he's tasked with using the short hard brush attached to a long wooden handle to scrub the dust and grime out of the neglected corners. margo is scrubbing the middle with a much bigger sturdier widebroom, and aaron--being the tallest ofc-- has the duster on an extendable handle, swiping through the metal rafters and high shelves.

he notices miles struggling a bit with a mysterious stain in one corner, repeatedly attacking it before finally crouching down to shove the brush even harder against the floor with his hands.

aaron casually sneaks backwards and catches margo's attention with a smirk and a point of his chin. she swings her gaze around to her slightly frustrated boyfriend crouched down into a corner and starts giggling.

aaron grins as he suddenly says, "so yeah, thats why i got miles here on corner duty, usually. y'know being a little guy and all, he can do all that that someone as tall as me can't really do anymore yanno what i'm sayin? he's real good in those small spaces. that's why i'm up here, dustin' these rafters."

scandalized, miles springs back up with a "hey!!" and a withering glare shot their way. margo bursts out laughing.

♡ miles is the little spoon and margo is the big spoon, fight me abt it. his fave cuddling position is actually when his arms are wrapped around her and her cheek is laid against his head. otherwise, he loves his weighted blanket, and margo loves her warm mattress ♡ when they're home alone and on the couch watching movies, his back is usually to her side as he half-lays on her, using her arm as a pillow

♡ margo is def not a sports kind of girl but she tries for her bf. he and aaron are very much into basketball which she tries to keep up with just to join in on their convos. she always attends miles' boxing matches tho, ofc. she actually likes watching boxing matches in general! aaron gives her some old tapes of his own matches when he was younger and that's how margo gets into televised mma fights and ufc. she's always cheering for miles the loudest in the audience

♡ miles actually uses margo sometimes in his workouts. the proudest day of his life was when he was able to have margo laying on his back as he did pushups, and he made it to 10 before tiring himself out. she's the one holding his feet down as he does sit-ups and ab crunches. she tries to join in on his workouts too, and gets p good with the speedbag relatively quickly!

♡ miles-- being the paranoid guy he is-- happens to be the one to teach margo all of the effective self-defense moves. she thinks he's always exaggerating the danger out on the streets but she can't lie sometimes; whenever she's out past sunset with her keys in between her knuckles, she's just a TINY bit glad that miles taught her how to escape a rear chokehold

♡ margo is the soc media girl who is embarassingly online and posts about anything and everything of her life. new website coded? met a stray cat on her way over to miles'? bought a new manga? invented a cool gadget? they always show up in her followers soc media feed. she tries to get miles to pose for pics with her but he's mostly content to just be the guy behind the camera tbh. his own soc media account is pretty boring and bare since he rarely ever posts. he's got other things on his mind, errands to run

♡ the one and only time margo has ever seen miles cry was right after his dad died. the whole neighborhood got the news and she ran straight over to miles' apartment the minute she could. they climbed into his bed (the only time rio didn't reprimand them for it) and he just sobbed his heart out while they held each other for a real long time. she brought over homework and notes when he stayed home from school to recuperate

#spiderverse #mine #earth 42 prowler #spider byte #earth 42 #prowlerbyte #margo kess #miles g morales #i hope yall can see my vision #now ofc these two havent met at all in the movie yet #but can you imagine like a lil scene where spiderbyte somehow meets up with miles42 #and she goes “miles! i recoded the machine so you can go back home to your CORRECT dimension #if you ever wanna come back to spider society?“#and then shes like “…wait. what happened to your hair? i like it but… wait what're you wearing?”#and then miles42 is looking at her like O_O bc his Girlfriend But Not Girlfriend is just zipping around asking him all these questions #and… is she a HOLOGRAM?#miles1610 steps in and steers miles42 away going “uh thanks but yeah he's me from another dimension ahaha anyWAYS lets go over here bro”#and miles42 just goes “MY GIRLFRIEND IS SPIDERWOMAN IN ANOTHER DIMENSION?!?!”#god that would be amazing #i want them to have even just ONE second of an interaction in btsv mannnnn #they r So Cute what?? like #also yes they are both ace bc they are Purple. the girls that get it get it #im thinkin maybe miles42 is like... sex neutral ace and margo is demisexual. theyre both biromantic bc of course #anyways hope yall enjoyed these ^^✌️

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vinmauro · 8 months

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fanfic tag game

tagged by @userbats & @spoookysix, thank you both!! sorry this took me days to complete

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

7, soon to be 8 and more whenever i finish writing and editing.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

240,340 words across posted works.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stranger things. bc as i told my mom, it's the only show i'm comfortable with bc of how many times i've watched it. i'd probably write ted lasso if i wasn't so painfully usamerican and anti sport.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

stranger i know so well at 150 kudos don’t, dont, don’t throw it away at 66 kudos pretty eyed, pirate smile at 52 kudos i will love you without any strings attached at 31 kudos tied me to you at 24 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i didn't used to but i just started to! i felt ummm weird about it and self-conscious but now i just think it's nice to say thank you<3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don't think i have one!! this one i'm currently writing might actually lmao.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

uhhh i think all of mine are pretty happy tbh. i think the happiest is peps bc i have a headcanon they get married in the front yard of the house so chrissy and barb could be there. also yk halloween graveyard wedding bc nancy caved to eddie's whims.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no, not outwardly. but i wouldn't be surprised since i write mostly about rarepairs that people hate<3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

not really. i'll write smut adjacent things and lead ups but not the actual act, no.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i don't have one currently except for the stranger things x buffy the vampire slayer au that's in my head. i need another btvs rewatch (and to finish this one i'm on but i don't want to watch the last episode ya feel???) and to finish my other current wips. but all i have to say is nancy wheeler as the slayer uhhhh slays?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of, no.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i have not but it'd be cool!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

twice. one of my first ever oc fics i once started co-writing with a friend of mine during a sort of all nighter after watching the crow. it did not last long and i ended up writing some more of it myself. and another time with a friend back when i wrote hp fanfic (groans @ past) but that never finished.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

i don't know if i have one. i have fandom specific ones but an all time favorite is too much to ask!!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

band fic you'll always be famous!!!!! (ronance one shot from it when????)

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think characterization is like the only thing i have going for me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

grammar!!! tense switching for sure.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i usually try to stay away from it bc google translate isn't always to be trusted and then there's like regional specific translations and oof. i doubt myself even with saying like a word or two in a language i vaguely understand.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

i wrote bandfic when i started. mostly about good charlotte and mest. and occasionally early crackfic crossovers where all my favorite band people and skateboarders just uhhhh hung out... it made no sense but i was 11 so. embarrassingly enough the first non-band fic i wrote was harry potter. we all have to start somewhere i guess.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

peps. it'll always be my favorite ever.

no pressure tags: @stargyles, @rejectofsociety, @sweetpeapod & anyone who sees this and would like to do it<3

#dash games

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kurts-world-101 · 2 years

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you’ve cum to my messages before? well sweetheart now you’re gonna have to tell me all about it. was it right when you got one of my messages or was it later on while you were too horny for me to fall asleep? how long did it take you to cum? i bet it was embarrassingly quick. but it would be nothing compared to how fast i could make you cum if i got my hands on you, which intend to do soon

i wonder how many rounds with me it would take until you couldn’t take anymore. would you be a good boy and let me ruin you all night, or would you pussy out after round two? not that i while blame you but i would be disappointed

i want you to ride your dildo trying so hard to get it to feel as good as me until you get so frustrated you start crying. i want you to blow up my phone and wake me up in the middle of the night bc you’re so hungry for my cock. i want pictures and videos of you jumping your pillow like the pathetic little boy you are for me

you better be on your knees for me when i come home. i don’t want to take more than 5 steps in the door before my cock is down your throat. i want your knees bruised from waiting for me every day

nothing gets me off more than you being desperate for me, and i can’t wait to see how you plan on pleasing me

-⛓️🔪

I did…. I touched myself to one of your posts. Specifically the only about rutting myself against your thigh, that one made my cock ache just the first time reading it…. Then later that night when I was all alone, and the thought couldn’t leave my brain…. I sat on my bed, cock in hand, on my knees fucking myself…. I couldn’t help how to think you would feel inside me, on me. It was so pathetic, the time it took to have my cumming all over my hand…. Oh you really think you can cut that time in half? I would like to see you try…

I would be such a good boy, I would let you fuck me until I couldn’t tell you no anymore. Then just when I thought it was all over, what you to slide inside me again. Using my dead weight for your pleasure….. to tired for myself to cum… just want you to keep cumming inside me until I’m nothing but a mess. And then I want you to make it clean it up, so cock drunk I’m just a drooling ness for you..

You’re going to wake up with video after video, position after position of me fucking myself, calling out for you. Pictures of how I cum, and where. Calling you while you’re at work just to hear you breath into the phone, so I can empty my cock in my car. Not giving me the satisfaction of any words. I won’t need them though…. Hearing your breath could be enough for me as I fuck my hand. Cumming in my jeans, leaving a sweet wet spot for you to see for later, having you tell me a good boy I was…

I’ll be stark naked and ready to receive you cock in my mouth sir. I’ll be mouth open for hours until you get home. Telling me before you leave for the day “not to move” sitting on my knees all day as I wait for my reward for being such a good boy.

Oh please…. I’m more then pathetic for you.. I want nothing more then for a simple look to put me in my place. I plan on pleasing you until, you tell me to stop. Making me take care of myself, just for the pleasure of knowing I’m only keeping myself healthy is for your own sexually gratification….

#kurtanswers #⛓️🔪anon

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mojaves · 2 years

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oc(s) of choice who you think would have the clearest or strongest feelings about it, perhaps: what do they want done with their body when/after they die?

[OOUUUGGHGH THIS IS SUCH A GOOD QUESTION i'm gonna do this for morgan]

MORGAN: so so very torn here because on the one hand, i want to be composted. because that's something you can do with bodies now which is very, VERY cool actually. but i also want my skeleton to be kept as a halloween decoration - or just a year-round decoration - because it would be really funny. maybe not to anyone else, though. but i think it's hilarious. you could dress me up for any and every occasion. weekend at bernie's type beat, y'know. but i also want to, like, become a mushroom. that'd be cool. just like, some little guy out in the woods, chilling. god, that'd be so good. not a care in the world. but can i, as a mushroom, be dressed to the nines in the shadows of a haunted house? absolutely not. but i would have friends as a mushroom, though. i hope i don't die before i decide what i want, because otherwise everyone's gonna put me in a box. i've made it VERY clear i don't want to be put in a box. lou knows this. i will not stop reminding her of this. i know she knows but i need to KNOW that she KNOWS. if not i AM gonna come back and kick her ass. as a ghost. we both know i have the potential to do that. ghosts have kicked us in the ass before. and they'll do it again! AND I'LL DO IT TOO IF I DON'T GET TURNED INTO A SPIRIT HALLOWEEN PROP YOU FUCKING-. [dial tone] [end of transmission]

#oc tag #i like to imagine she went on a REALLY long tangent about this. like. a good half an hour #bc Lord that girl can talk. imagine waking up and you have a missed call and this is the voicemail.#morgan ranting about soil types and mushrooms for what feels like years #i would have had her do that here but thats much more research than i am willing to do at this time HGFGJH #anyway does this give off her vibe. does this answer the question 'how does morgan talk'#i hope so. this took an embarrassingly long amount of time :pensive:#i was trying to write formally but it didnt feel write i kept re-writing again and again #and then i decided. just turn my brain off and strat writing words. that's what morgan would do. and here we are #and now you get me rambling in the tags hii <3 love you

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divine17 · 2 years

Text

↳ FEEL IT OUT | MASTERLIST

Request: “Imagine Fez being your fwb, but knowing you can’t have each other bc... reasons” - Anon

Warnings: Very NSFW, oral (reader receiving), reader smokes weed w/ Fez & mentions of alcohol, slightly fluffy if you squint

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Didn't really know what “reasons” means so I filled it in. Hopefully it's alright though. Also! This is the first real smut I’ve written in… an embarrassingly long time. Please go easy on me if it’s kinda shit lol

“We can’t do this again.”

Your chest floats up and down quickly as you try to catch your breath, your eyes drifting over to Fezco. He’s laying beside you, his hand resting on your thigh, thumb stroking the soft skin. There’s a thin layer of sweat across his forehead, cheeks flushed soft pink. He stays quiet, unsure of what to say, letting you both take the moment to think.

This was complicated. Way too fucking complicated.

Fezco was like a brother to Rue, and Rue was like a sister to you; And she’d almost definitely lose her fucking mind if she found out you slept together, you knew that much for sure. You couldn’t do this again. This was the latest in your recent string of hookups with Fez, and as great as it was, it wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t.

“Rue would flip her shit.” He says, his voice faltering. You nodded, and he sighed lightly.

“Do you think she’d…?” You trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence. It hurt too much to say out loud, asking if it was enough to make her relapse again. She had just started doing well again and neither of you could bear the thought of being responsible for her going back down that road, especially if it was over something so stupid as sex.

“Nah,” Fez looks over at you, and you can't help but admire him, but his words quickly snap you out of it. “but I think she’d be pissed.”

The two of you fell back into a comfortable, contemplative silence, laying together in the warm bed. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed before someone finally spoke again. It felt like minutes and hours had passed in the same breath; Time tended to blur together like that when you were with him.

“So that’s it.”

“Yeah.”

After that, you decided that avoiding him entirely was the easiest prevention. No closing the shop together after dark, no more smoking in his car, no being alone together. That plan was quickly busted when Fez told you that Ashtray had started to grow suspicious of why you'd disappeared so suddenly; And when Ash thought something was up, he got answers, one way or another. So, you started coming around again, but your same unspoken rules still applied.

Next, a couple weeks after yours and Fez’s last incident, you found yourself in the living room of the large house, thumping bass and trap beats filling your ears, a haze of smoke covering you. The smell of alcohol and weed and the warmth from the tipsy bodies around you filled your senses as you watched the scene before you. You needed a drink, you decided, and headed to the kitchen.

The counters were messy, full of empty bottles and what looked to be someone’s belongings. A phone, a wallet, a photo of a little dog. You were sure they'd regret leaving it all there soon enough, but chose to ignore the items as you searched for a cup... To no success. Who the fuck threw a house party with no cups?

“Think you’re lookin’ for this.”

You turned around quickly at the familiar voice, almost dizzying yourself. Fezco stood in the doorway, a thin, smile on his face, blunt behind his ear and a cup in his hands.

“Didn’t know you’d be here.” You said lightly, unable to help the smile that appeared on your lips. It was nice to see him, even if you knew he was just here on business. you took the cup, beginning to pour the rest of the near-empty bottle of vodka into it. “Rue?”

“And Jules, they’re ‘round here… Somewhere.” He shrugs, hand gesturing in the direction of the living room. He looks around for the girls for a moment, lazily, like he's not quite really focused on it. You nod, pouring a lukewarm bottle of juice into your drink as a mixer, taking a sip.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and you're just happy to be around him for the first time in a few days. The blunt tucked behind his ear looks tempting, and you’re tired of being in such a hot, busy room already, so you ask...

“Can we go smoke?”

Now, you’re sitting on the bathroom counter, Fezco beside you, and you can feel the high starting to creep up on you. You can't help but stare at him as he takes a hit, rolling the blunt between his fingers, as much as you knew you shouldn't. He’s so beautiful, and stubborn that he’d never believe you if you told him. In this light, a dim, moonlit haze, he looks so delicate. There’s a halo of smoke swirling in the air above his head. In some way, he looked angelic.

And he’s got a piece of glitter on his cheek.

“Fez, look at me,” You whisper, a smile breaking out onto your face. Thoughtlessly, he obeys, turning to look at you. His baby blue eyes are so bright, and he looks at you with such trust… You bring your thumb to his cheek, gently brushing away the shimmery, purple spot.

Neither of you think as it happens, but before you can realize it, your lips are pressed against his. He doesn’t hesitate, kissing you back instantly, letting his hand come to hold his weight against the side of the counter beneath you. You can’t help but smile against him, which makes him laugh, breaking the kiss.

“I’m sorry.” You giggle, forehead pressed to his. Your hair is ticklish against his skin, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was a little high, and he was pretty sure this felt like heaven.

“Nah, you ain’t.”

You shrug slightly, pressing another kiss to his plush lips. “No, I’m not.”

He laughs for a moment, brushing your hair out of your face before he presses one final kiss to your lips… Or that was his intention, at least. Your hand comes to rest on the side of his neck and his to your thigh, fingers dancing underneath the hem of your dress and against the warm skin underneath. It makes you sigh happily, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. You tasted sweetly of citrus and faintly of liquor, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

It only took another moment before his hand was pushing your dress up entirely, fingertips grazing along the inside of your parted thighs, almost teasingly. You open your mouth to speak, practically ready to beg him not to tease, but you’re silenced by his scratchy beard against your neck as he kisses your face, where jaw connects with ear. Slowly, he trails down the side of your neck, across your throat, leaving a soft hickey mark across your collarbone.

“No,” You manage to say, your voice soft. He half-groans in disapproval, but you shush him with your next words. “not where anyone can see.”

His hand between your thighs moves again, bringing his thumb to brush across your panties, feeling your pooling wetness through the thin fabric. A pretty moan escapes you and it only encourages him, his fingers beginning to slip underneath the waistband, pulling it down. He lets it snap against your skin, causing you to buck your hips slightly, followed quickly by his palm swiping over the stinging skin to soothe it.

“Fuck,” You sigh, a little annoyed. He knew right where you needed him, and you were almost certain that he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “why do you have to tease like that?”

He shrugs, repeating his action from before. Except when he pulls the thin cotton down, you feel the opposite side pulling too, and down your legs and off your body as he drops them in the floor. Just when you think it’s getting good, he stops, a sly little smirk dancing on his lips.

Instead, he turns his attention to your chest. His fingers hook into the straps of your dress, softly pulling them down your arms. Your breasts exposed, it’s only a moment before he takes one in his large hand, gently rolling your nipple between his fingers. Licking, squeezing, sucking. This earns another soft moan, and another as he takes the opposite between his lips, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin. His movements were slow and languid, relaxed, and making you a whining mess in his palms far quicker than you’d like to admit.

“Please, Fez,” You mewl, bringing your hand to rest on the side of his head. “no more. No more, please.”

He smirks against your flesh, and you can’t even find it in you to be annoyed when he bites just lightly enough for you to feel, sending electric running through your body. He presses a hungry kiss to your lips as his hands work on pulling the top part of your dress back up, covering you. Next, you feel his hands sliding down your waist, down your hips, and, oh… His hands wrap around the bottom of your thighs, pulling your core closer to the edge of the counter in one swift, sort of ungraceful movement.

He breaks the kiss, and as you’re catching your breath, you suddenly feel his mouth against your heat. You’re warm beneath his tongue and you taste just as nice as he remembered, your body tensing slightly as he works his tongue around your clit. A series of small kitten licks quickly turns into the bud between his lips, softly sucking and long, flat stripes over you. You try to keep quiet, you really do, given the situation, but you’re unsuccessful. You can’t help but shudder as the needy, desperate little moans fall from your lips before you can even properly register them. They’re like music to his ears, and he craves more.

Fez brings one arm to lay carefully across your stomach, a halfhearted attempt to keep you from squirming too much. You can only watch the way his head moves as he works between your thighs, but even that only lasts a moment before your eyes flutter shut. Your hand is softly pressed against the side of his head, and he can tell you’re starting to give in to the sensation rapidly building in your tummy, your thighs beginning to squeeze against him slightly.

You can’t help but let out a cry of pleasure as you feel his two fingers slide into you with ease, filling your empty space so nicely. He gives you just a moment to adjust before moving, and you’re so sensitive that it only takes one, two, three curls of his fingers into that special spot before you’re arching into him, coming undone on his tongue. Hands grabbing at what little hair he had, breathy moans falling from your lips. A series of quiet swears and whimpers of his name delight him.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight than you, eyebrows furrowed slightly, lips parted, your eyes trying desperately (and failing) to stay focused on his as you ride out your orgasm, and he’s not sure such a thing even really exists.

After a moment, his movements begin to slow, his tongue becoming lazy before stopping altogether when your body starts to relax. Your chest rises and falls, eyes closed, head against the mirror as you slowly regain your sense.

He rises from his position, standing between your legs as he wipes the sweat off your forehead with the hem of his t-shirt, soaking in the comfortable silence. He can’t help but wear a cocky little smile that usually, you’d want to kiss right off his face…. But really, he deserved this one. You’d let him have it.

Your head is a little hazy, and you can’t tell if it was the weed or the chemicals in your brain, but you feel yourself talking before you realize it, and all he can do is grin.

“Fezco, I think I might be in love with you.”

#fezco #fez #fezco euphoria #fez euphoria #euphoria #euphoria hbo #euphoria fanfiction #fezco x reader #angus cloud #zendaya #rue bennett #cal jacobs #euphoria x reader #angus cloud x reader #dailyeuphoria #euphoriaedit #d17nsfw

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peachycoreroo · 3 years

Text

overtime | fushiguro megumi

summary: you’re stuck working overtime with your co-worker megumi and offer to help him when he gets frustrated with the paperwork. not the kind of help you were thinking of, but you’re not complaining.

pairing: office employee!megumi x fem!reader

genre: smut, mini plot ig

word count: 2.9k

warnings: megumi cussing out gojo CDBHJ, uhh cocky and confident ‘gumi, dubcon-ish? but not really bc you want it, one (1) spank, dry humping, handjob, oral m! receiving, one (1) line of degradation, praise, finger sucking, making you gag on purpose, use of ‘bitch’, inappropriate use of work space

authors note: here’s my piece for the a man in uniform collab by @atsupup, thanks sm for letting me join sweetpea!! so,,,shy blushy megumi has my heart but this is what my brain came up with so here it is,,,,not really proofread itS 2AM RN OK here’s a link to my masterlist

“well, i’ll be off. have fun finishing the papers! and don’t forget, i need them done by tomorrow!”

and with that, he was gone - leaving you and your colleague alone on the twelfth floor of the company building.

shyly, you peered over to the other side of the office, right next to the door. fushiguro megumi could only be described as beautiful, even while he sat there – black suit pants, jacket thrown off to the side, white dress shirt, loose navy tie – with a scowl on his pretty, angelic face.

“fucking gojo. always the same with this entitled asshole. it was his stupid fucking mistake, so why do i have to fix it?”

trying not to stare at your office crush while he was openly cussing out your superior under his breath, you tried to concentrate on the documents in front of you. maybe, it was a blessing in disguise that you had to work overtime with the man you’ve been lusting after since you’ve started the job two months prior, because it’s the first time you were able to admire him without other people intervening every time, as if on purpose.

a conversation just never came to be. you’ve greeted each other in the early mornings and bid goodbye at the end of a long, draining day of work, but that was about it. having him here, alone with you, truly felt like some high being finally took pity on your dull love life and decided you deserved a minuscule glimpse at the possibility of a chance with fushiguro megumi.

the sudden silence in the empty office space after said man just cursed for five minutes straight, brought you back to reality as you carefully peered at him over the rim of your overly bright computer screen. what you weren’t expecting was to be met with two magnificent, blue eyes already locked on your form at your designated table, right in front of the huge, floor-length windows of the bureau.

paralyzing panic flooded your chest when you realized that your crush was staring at you, so without knowing what else to do, your eyes snapped back to the papers that were responsible for the extra time you had to stay. a light, smooth chuckle echoed in the vacant space, your face heating up embarrassingly fast as a result.

was it always this unbearably hot here? you couldn’t tell if you were honest, brain all jumbled up from hearing such an attractive, carefree sound leave the usually stoic black-haired man. desperately trying to cool down, you looked questioningly at the windows behind you, the first three buttons of your blouse coming undone in the meantime. official work hours were over anyway, what’s the harm in making yourself more comfortable?

“they don’t open for safety reasons. the air conditioners aren’t just for show, you know?”

the teasing undertone in his statement sent goosebumps down your spine, the temperature of your face now skyrocketing and traveling up to the tips of your ears. it completely slipped your mind that there were air conditioners here. fuck.

“u-uh, yeah, i know! just wanted to, uh, to look out the window! yes, that’s what i wanted to do!”, you exclaimed, a bit too loudly, the stutter solidifying your totally convincing lie.

“sure”, megumi retorted, barely able to keep in the snicker bubbling in his chest as he got up from his desk chair and grabbed the remote in gojo’s office. “so… do you want me to turn it on or not?”

“y-yeah, would be nice.”

once again, a grin creeped onto megumi’s soft –insanely soft – lips when you stammered. as a beep, indicating that the cooling was now starting, resonated in the room, you couldn’t help but take a deep breath to refocus. this wasn’t the time to be flustered. it was already 9 p.m. and you weren’t allowed to leave until you were finished.

with an exhausted sigh, you slicked back your hair, before slumping down the chair to avoid the temptation of throwing glances at megumi instead of doing what you were supposed to.

it was arduous. the buzzing of the air conditioning, the clicking of the keyboards, pens being dragged across paper and the occasional low ‘fuck’s from your black-haired co-worker were the only sounds bouncing of the walls as the hours dragged on.

but while you were nearly finished, the man across the room wasn’t as lucky. that one mistake was in too deep, meaning he had to redo every single page, making his blood pressure rise with every word he had to correct. as the minutes continued to tick and it seemed as if fushiguro didn’t even make a dent in the paperwork, he couldn’t hold back his little frustrated outburst of rage.

“i’m gonna fucking kill him!”, he practically yelled out of nowhere, sending the countless documents flying onto the floor as he threw them with all the strength, he was able muster. you couldn’t help but flinch at the unexpected eruption of emotions out of the man that was normally so calm and collected. the only times you’ve seen any reactions from him was when gojo satoru was involved, the disdain for your cocky, playful bosses’ actions and pranks never truly concealed by megumi.

when you finally allowed yourself to steal a glance at the man, the sight of him – black locks disheveled and breathing heavily with an irked frown on his face – only fueled your daily fantasies about him, the mental image of him looking positively ruined offering the perfect material for your nightly escapades with yourself and your trusty vibrator.

at the lewd visions flashing in front of your eyes – lively, as if they were happening right this moment – you quickly shook your head, before abruptly standing up, interrupting the fit of the man across the room.

cheeks heating up one more time at his undivided attention being directed at you, you made your way over to him, praying that you wouldn’t run into a table or trip over a cable. when you arrived at his side of the spacious bureau, you carefully knelt down, mindful of not flashing him in your short pencil skirt and picked up the seemingly never-ending papers of the floor.

when he recognized what you were doing, he instantly got on his knees right beside you to help, only making you freeze in the process. the unforeseen proximity and the scent of his woody cologne reaching your senses caused your senses to tingle, a lustful haze clouding your mind and traveling down to your core. it was utterly humiliating, the way your underwear became more and more uncomfortably damp at the wetness seeping out with every passing second in his close vicinity.

if you were perfectly honest, you didn’t even know what made him so unbelievably attractive to you. normally, you opted for the loud, extroverted, asshole types of guys - just like your superior. but ever since laying eyes on the almost cold, at all times composed fushiguro megumi, the single thought of wasting your precious time on another male made your skin crawl.

unintentionally, the pace at which you picked up the mess in front of you increased, the need to put some much-needed space between you before you jumped him like a feral animal in heat threated to suffocate you.

with that, you abruptly got back up, avoiding eye contact as you laid out the papers on the desk beside his. “can i help you?”

“help?”, megumi asked, puzzled.

“yeah, the order got messed up. i’ll sort them, ‘m finished anyway.”

the mans blue eyes gave you a once over, halting on the tight stretch of your short skirt over your ass and your tights-clad thighs before repeating, now more confident: “help?”

you questioningly looked back at him, only to catch him just as his gaze snapped from your ass back to your face. was he just…?

at the scent of woody cologne invading your senses again, your thoughts evaporated in a blink of an eye, only to find the black-haired male in dangerous proximity.

“i’d love your… help”, he whispered, sending goosebumps down your spine at the weird emphasizing of ‘help’. with a curt nod, you reached out for the papers, just to stifle when you felt two large, warm hands land on your hips.

“mmm, work can wait. i need something else more urgently right now.”

your heart practically leaped out of your chest at the physical contact, but before you could react, you found yourself being pressed against the desk in front of you, ass flush with his hips.

“what a nice, empathic girl you are, sweetheart. offering to aid your poor co-worker in need. your proposal definitely won’t go to waste, baby. believe me”, megumi lowly purred as his large palm found its way to your back, keeping you in place while his hips tested the waters by lightly grinding against your behind.

your poor, overwhelmed brain shut down as soon as you felt his semi-hard cock against your drenched underwear through his dress pants, his velvety voice calling you ‘baby’ echoing in your head. the black-haired male triumphally grinned when he felt the little roll of your hips as you tried to meet his movements, a lustful haze blurring your judgement. maybe, you shouldn’t be doing this at work, but how could you deny the single most breath-taking man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

megumi continued his movements, relishing in the little whimpers and sighs of satisfaction you were letting out. as he let his gaze roam your figure slowly, he couldn’t stop himself from frowning when your perfect ass was hidden from view, making him reach out and bunch your skirt up at your waist, but the sight only made his palm itch.

with a firm spank his hand collided with your ass, a surprised squeak leaving your lips, hips twitching back against his already fully hard dick.

“fuck. keep moving your hips like that, yeah. what a good girl”, megumi ordered, your drenched cunt fluttering at the praises thrown your way. trying to elicit more words of affirmation from the man’s lips, you started grinding back harder, a choked-out groan betraying just how turned on he undoubtedly was.

“shit, you’re making me feel so good”, the tall male whispered, before pulling you back up and smashing his lips against yours as soon as he turned you around, now facing him.

the feeling of his – just like you predicted – incredibly pillowy, soft lips against yours had your knees almost give out, arms thrown over his broad shoulders to stabilize yourself.

large palms cupped the underside of your thighs and picked you up with ease, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist as his lips kept attacking yours. with every passing second the kiss grew more passionate, hungry, longing. it felt as if you both were transpiring everything you weren’t able to say the months prior through your interlocked mouths.

as though megumi didn’t turn on the ac just a few hours prior, the heat rose between you both like a forest fire – rapid and contagious. it only just sparked, but it’s already out of control and won’t cease until you finally clench the insatiable greed to have the man currently ravishing you.

too drunk on the sweet taste of his cushiony lips, you didn’t even realize fushiguro made his way over to gojo’s office until he set you down on the spacious desk of said superior and released your lips with a string of spit connecting them to his. impatient, the black-haired male made work of his belt and zipper, only pausing to grin when he saw the way you practically gawked at his obvious dick print in his boxers.

“no need to be shy, sweetheart. go ahead, touch me”, he cockily encouraged, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and guiding your palm towards his painfully hard length. you sharply inhaled as you wrapped your hand around his girthy hard-on through his boxers, teeth digging into your lower lip at the feeling of finally getting to touch him.

when you lifted your gaze to meet megumi’s, you were caught off guard to see his eyes a fraction darker, just like the night sky, his hand leaving your wrist to find home on your jaw, a thumb pulling your bottom lip from between your teeth before slipping in between them.

the low-lidded, erotic look on his face as he watched you glide your tongue along the underside of his thumb made your hips twitch up on their own, a devilish smirk spreading on his bewitching face.

“you’re getting off to this, huh? what a dirty little girl you are, baby.”

without a hint of remorse, he pushed his thumb further down your throat, chuckling cruelly when you gagged but slipped your hand into his boxers to be able to stroke his leaking cock without a bothersome barrier separating you from direct skin to skin contact.

megumi let out a sharp hiss at the feeling of your rapid motions along his cock, his own hips moving in sync with the lazy pace you set. swirling your tongue around his pretty thumb as he essentially fucked your first, your own whines and mewls escaped just from watching a lewd expression – brows furrowed and mouth hanging open as grunts and murmurs of ‘good girl, just like that’ slipped past his soft lips – form on your handsome colleague’s face.

“wanna- oh god, wanna taste you. can i?”, you asked timidly around his thumb, eyes set on the dark blue pair in front of you and panting.

a booming, guttural groan came from somewhere deep inside his chest at such an explicit request leaving you in such an innocent manner.

“you can do whatever you want, sweetheart”, he retorted as he pulled his big thumb out of your warm mouth with a loud ‘pop’, maneuvering himself back to give you space when you moved forward, hopping off the table and getting on your knees in front of him.

megumi would never admit it, but he had been fantasizing about this exact scenery since the moment he first saw you in the office two months ago. many nights were spent imagining your plump, gloss-covered lips wrapped around his girthy length, so when you finally took hold of his throbbing cock and placed a wet kitten lick on his sensitive tip, he couldn’t help but place his hands on gojo’s desk behind you as his voice rose an octave, an enticing whine echoing in the spacious office.

your core contracted shamelessly as a result of his high-pitched mewl, the intense craving to hear those sounds slip past his lips uncontrollably, with you as the cause for the intoxicating euphoria the tall male felt, awakening from somewhere deep within you.

suddenly incredibly set on satisfying the man above you, you took his girthy length in your mouth, tongue tracing the prominent vein on the underside and hands finding purchase on his dress-pants-glad thighs. your head bobbed back and forth as you tried to take more and more into your mouth, your poor lips and jaw painfully stretching to accommodate his fat cock.

“shit, would’ve done this much earlier if i knew what a fucking cock-hungry bitch you were”, he hissed as he observed how eagerly you sucked him off, large hand finding purchase in your hair and using it to his advantage to speed up the languid pace you set.

when you gagged, as a particular hard tug caused megumi’s tip to bump against the back of your throat and looked up at him from under your eyelashes - eyes brimming with tears and glossed over with gluttony and greed -, a long, whiny ‘yes, fuck!’ fell from his mouth. megumi didn’t have enough control over himself to keep from shooting his slightly salty load down your throat at the erotic sight. sneering expression, baring teeth and flexed biceps was all you could make out through the tears that were rolling down your heated cheeks.

the need to finally swallow had you leaning back, taking the dark-haired man’s softening cock out of your mouth in the process before swallowing and stretching out your tongue. with a grin, megumi grabbed your tongue and leaned down, rasping ‘good girl’ before placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

your eyelashes fluttered as you focused your gaze back on his blissed-out expression – sweaty, lopsided grin and dark blue eyes set on your own teary ones.

megumi let go off your slick tongue as he leaned in close enough for his nose to brush against yours and lowly proposed: “thank you for helping me unwind, pretty girl. now how about this: we finish the rest of our paperwork, and then i’ll fuck you on this table till you don’t know where left or right is.”

brain hazy and clouded, you only nodded and contently smiled at him, the consequences of having sex on your superiors’ desk completely slipping your mind, because really, who would care about that when you can have fushiguro megumi all to yourself, finally rewarding you after you just brought him to a mind-blowing orgasm.

tagging: the lomls @thighridingsamu and @weepinglevi<3

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

Insecure

Summary: Spencer and Reader are both a little uncomfortable with the idea of having sex

A/N: I firmly believe that dry humping shouldn’t just be for horny teens <3

Pairing: Virgin!Spencer Reid x Virgin!Fem!Reader

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings/Includes: cursing, smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, grinding, dry humping, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 1.9k

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Requests Filled:

“I may have asked you this before but I’m not actually too sure if I just thought about it or if I actually sent it so I’ll resend to be safe (I have Dory’s memory I promise I’m not trying to be pushy) But could you write a blurb about riding sub!spencer’s thigh bc he’s not sure if he’s ready to lose his virginity and he gets so worked up he cums in his underwear (idk if you’re comfortable with that so please ignore this if you aren’t no pressure at all just lots of love) xx

Hi Ellie! I'm a new anon to your blog and I have a blurb request about the grinding on spencer gif you recently reposted. Maybe y/n and spencer are "in the mood" but y/n has never done "it" before but she still wants to get spencer and herself off so they dry hump in their underwear because that's as far as she's comfortable with going. I'm sorry if this is worded weird I've never requested smut before. Also can I please be the 💜 anon?”

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It wasn’t like they’d done nothing. But there was something about sex that felt like such a bold step. He knew she was inexperienced too, which sort of helped ease his nerves whenever he thought about it for too long. He just hoped that the whole thing freaked her out as much as it freaked him out really, but he still just found himself a little too shy to say anything about it. Instead opting for awkward and abrupt ends to make-out sessions, or cuddles, or dates, for fear that it would spiral into something he wasn’t exactly ready for.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to. In some paradoxical way it still turned him on, and whenever he’d leave and make a break for the bathroom in the middle of a make-out session on his couch he’d more often than not find himself with his hand around his cock, pumping himself to the thought of her. He wasn’t sure what was so intimidating about it to be honest.

But she never seemed to say anything about it, so he sort of thought he might be in the clear about the whole thing. Even though deep down he knew that’s not how relationships or communication worked. So he’s both surprised and unsurprised when he shows up at her front door with take out and she’s wearing a robe with what looks like little else underneath. A far cry from her usual comfy clothes that he’d grown so fond of.

“Hey Spence” she says with a nervous smile, and he just stands there dumbfounded, staring at her like he’s never seen her before.

“Oh— I— um, hi!” he mumbles out, forcing himself back to reality as she steps aside to let him into her apartment. “I brought food” he says, leaving it down on the coffee table and all of a sudden having no idea what he’s supposed to do with his hands.

“Spence, I wanted to talk to you about something” she says, looking almost as nervous as he does, bracing herself as she sits down on the couch and beckons him to sit beside her.

“What is it?” he gulps down the lump in his throat before he speaks, preparing himself for the conversation he’s been dreading.

“I don’t really know how to phrase this but, um, I don’t think I’m ready to have sex yet” she blurts out, her arms crossing over her chest, defending and comforting herself as she speaks, her eyes looking anywhere but his.

“That’s alright” he smiles, reaching out a hand and placing it on the side of her face, gently tilting so that she has to look at him, “Me neither”

Saying it out loud feels like a huge weight has been lifted from his chest, he feels lighter than he ever thought possible as she looks in his eyes and they’re filled with a similar ease.

“You’re not just saying that?” she asks, hopeful, and he shakes his head.

“No, god no! I’ve been so worried that you were going to get annoyed, or impatient, or freaked out by me. I just didn’t know how to tell you that I wasn’t ready for that yet. And don’t get me wrong, I do want to… eventually, and I think you’re so pretty, just not, now.”

“You have no idea how good it feels to hear that Spence” she lunges forward and pulls him into a tight hug, and his hands pull her in instinctively, spreading out against her back. As he feels the smooth satin beneath his fingertips he has a thought.

“If that’s what you wanted to tell me, then what’s this about?” he asks, pulling back so that he can cast his gaze over her robe again, lingering a little longer this time, letting his eyes trail along her bare legs that stretch out beneath it.

“I don’t know if this was a stupid plan or not. But I wanted to prove to you that I do still want to be with you. And just because I’m not comfortable with sex yet doesn’t mean I’m not comfortable doing other things with you?”

“Oh” his breath catches in his throat, maybe it’s nerves, or just anticipation but he can feel the heat rising in his face, “Like, um, like what… things?”

“You’re not allowed laugh” she says, taking her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and he smiles at her.

“Never”

“I know it’s a real ‘teenage’ activity but I thought we could both get off together if we dry humped?” his eyes go wide at her suggestion, because it’s perfect and he’s nodding before his lips can even think about forming words.

“Yes, yeah! That’s a great idea” and then she’s grinning at him and he’s grinning back before they’ve even really touched each other. “How do we start?”

She takes a moment to consider before speaking, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but maybe if you took off your clothes so we’re both in our underwear?”

“But you’re not—” before he can finish his sentence her hands have pulled at the tie keeping her robe together and it drapes open on either side, revealing the rest of her body clad in nothing but a white lingerie set. He has to force himself to start breathing again before he can do anything else. But once he does he’s standing up and making his way out of his clothes in an uncoordinated rush.

When he sits back down on the couch in only his boxers she wastes no time climbing into his lap, one leg either side of his thigh, her knee nestled in against his crotch. The pressure is immediate and he can’t stifle the moan that falls from his lips.

“Take this off baby” he moans, his hands coming up to push her robe off of her shoulders until she can shrug out of it, discarding it on the floor. “Fuck” he whispers at the unobstructed view, his hands ghosting along her sides with almost ticklish amounts of pressure.

While his hands are occupied and he's just a little distracted, she dives in to kiss him. Her lips a little rough against his from the excitement but he doesn’t seem to mind, opening his mouth in response to let her tongue in. They stay like that for a few moments, hands roaming over bare skin, tugging gently at hair, moaning against each others mouths.

It takes an embarrassingly little amount of time before they’re both desperate and aching, and she can’t help the way she grinds down against his thigh, resting her hands on either one of his shoulders for support.

“Does that feel good baby?” he asks when her lips break apart from his own to let out a gasp.

“Uh huh” she moans, her lips hanging open, soft and swollen from kissing his own.

“Why don’t you come a little closer?” he whispers, tightening his grip on her waist and pulling her in tighter so that her knee is pressed up against his bulge, pushing closer with each soft rock of her hips.

“Fuck” he whimpers, his head falling backwards to land on the back of couch, giving in to the overwhelming sensation. If it was ever possible for something to feel too good, this was it, he cursed himself for knowing it wasn’t going to last long. And then she started to kiss his exposed throat and he knew he was fucked.

His hands began to dig in tighter against her waist, both guiding her movements and letting out some tension. “You’re gonna kill me” he forces out as she begins to gasp and moan between the soft kisses she leaves along his neck.

“Sorry, it just feels so good” she chuckles a little as he tries to bring his head back up so he can look at her, admire her. She was always so beautiful, but somehow even more so like this. With her hair just a little messy, her eyes full of lust, her face and chest lightly coated with sweat in a way that made her look like she was glowing. It was all so perfect that he couldn’t be more thankful for his memory in that moment.

“Are you close baby?” he asks and she can only nod, her breath coming out in harsh pants as she tries to move her hips with some sort of rhythm. So he decides to concentrate his efforts on her in an attempt to slow himself down.

Holding her still with his grip he starts to move his thigh, alternating between shaking it so that it vibrates, and pushing it up in a very harsh and deliberate grid against her now soaking wet panties.

“Oh fuck, Spencer!” she whimpers, trying to steadying herself against his shoulders without much success. “I’m so close—uh—”

“Cum for me baby” he soothes while keeping his movements forceful until she’s almost doubled over on top of him, collapsing against his chest with a loud and desperate moan of his name. And he can feel the soaking fabric against his thigh and the idea that he’s the one that’s responsible for it has him throbbing.

But he waits. he waits for her to regain her breath and sit back up from her resting position against his chest. But she’s way ahead of him, and he can feel a hand pressing up against the fabric of his boxers, squeezing gently, but it’s more than enough stimulation to have him squirming.

“Shit Spence, you’re so hard” she groans, sitting up finally so that she can look at his blush covered face and neck.

“It’s ‘cause of you” he manages to mumble out as her hand begins to move, squeezing and pressing against his bulge, spurred on by each desperate little whine.

“Are you gonna cum baby?” she asks, her other hand coming up to knot in his hair, tilting his face so that he’s looking up at her, just in time to nod. And then he’s cumming, warm and messy inside of his boxers. Something about the feeling against her hand has her almost good to go again.

Spencer’s eyes close as he turns a brighter shade of red, his mouth hanging open in a little ‘o’ shape as he comes down from his high. When he finally returns to Earth to find her still perched in his lap he can hardly believe any of what’s just happened is real.

“So that’s what I was missing out on in high school?” he chuckles, his hands coming back up to graze her sides softly again as she smiles down at him.

“We’ll make up for plenty of lost time together. And we can take as long as we need.” she leans in and presses her lips softly to his. And even though he still didn’t feel comfortable with sex, he knew he felt comfortable with her.

-- -- --

Thank you so much for reading, any feedback is always appreciated, love you! <3

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emeren · 3 years

Text

such a tease - eren jaeger

👗 anon request <3

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 4k

content warnings: 18+, smut, choking, degradation, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness

notes: this was an anonymous request and lemme just say, i was SO excited to write this one. i’m unfortunately not super happy with how it turned out, but i’ve been swamped bc school just started back up!

SUMMARY: reader decides to tease eren by wearing a skirt without any underwear for the day, causing her very jealous boyfriend to act out in an unexpected way.

one look in the mirror was all it took for you to quell your nerves. your fingers ran over the expanse of the pleated skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles and creases. this was bold, even for you, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

eren had never been particularly shy about his protective nature; he was always making sure people understood you were his girlfriend, wrapping his arm around your waist or glaring at men who stared a little too long.

you loved that about him, but you loved pushing his buttons even more. he had a bad habit of being an argumentative, hot headed little shit, and teasing him like this was asking for some rough, animalistic gesture. that was exactly what you wanted.

you’d never neglected to wear underwear in a skirt this short, the fabric stopping just below your ass. you knew you’d have to be careful or you would end up flashing jean or armin, and that would drive eren up a wall.

you hoped eren wouldn’t notice until you were all out; meaning there would be nothing he could do about it. teasing him was one of your favorite things to do.

you heard your phone buzz quietly from your bed, picking up the small device and seeing eren’s name at the top.

lil shit <3: get ur ass out here we’ve been waiting forever

the eye roll that naturally came to you was strong, giving yourself one final once over in the mirror before heading out of your apartment. you couldn’t help the nervous smile that teased at your lips once you left the building, connie’s beat up minivan sitting at the curb. riding in his car was never the first choice; it was musty and had suspicious stains on the carpeting, but it was the only one that fit all of your friends.

connie laid on the horn as soon as he saw you, the rest of your friends yelling from inside the vehicle as you approached. you could see jean in the passenger seat, jogging up to the rear door with a knot of nervousness in your stomach. you placed one hand on your thigh to keep the skirt from riding up as you slid the van door open.

sasha and mikasa were stuffed in the small backseat, armin and eren sitting in the middle row. it was comical to see eren in the spot generally reserved for the smallest passenger, but you had no doubt that he wanted to sit in the middle because of you. he was petty like that - a trait that made teasing him all the more fun.

“hey guys,” you smiled, sliding into the van as your friends all greeted you at once. your eyes were on connie, who was craning his neck to give you a rather incredulous look.

you felt eren stiffen as you sat down, reaching for the seatbelt. connie decided to speak up before you had a chance to question it. “dude, come ooooon. what the hell took you so long?”

“sorry, i was distracted and my phone was on my bed,” you explained, connie resolutely rolling his eyes in response.

“let’s go already, i’m starving!” sasha wailed from the back, shaking your seat in front of her. you giggled at her desperation, finally turning to your boyfriend as connie sped away from the curb.

you were surprised to see that eren was already staring at you, a weird glint in his eyes. you gave him a smile, trying to act innocent. “hi.”

he didn’t say anything, just looked forward and placed his large hand on your bare thigh. it wasn’t that it was unusual for him to do so in front of your friends, in fact it was normal. you just weren’t used to him placing it so high; so high that the tip of his pinky dipped beneath the fabric of your skirt and threatened to inch towards the apex of your leg.

had he already noticed?

“took you awhile to get ready,” eren commented, his words only being heard by you as everyone else in the car chatted about going bowling. you glanced back up at him, eyes scanning his face. he was wearing a black t-shirt and sweats, the customary ‘i don’t care about anything’ outfit he always seemed to adorn. the cold metal of the ring on his middle finger did little to ease your nerves.

“yeah, i was just thinking about some stuff and got distracted,” you lied, smiling up at him. he was looking at you from the side of his eyes, jaw clenched.

“really?” he breathed, his hand shifting ever so slightly up your leg. his smallest finger teased at the crease of your thigh, head leaning down to whisper in your ear. “were you thinking about some stuff or were you forgetting about some stuff?”

your breath hitched, face growing hot as you struggled for something to say. connie, once again, beat you to the punch. “oi! lovebirds! no canoodling in my back seat!”

“we weren’t canoodling,” eren sneered, pulling away and moving his hand to just above your knee. he squeezed the skin generously, your slight embarrassment about eren’s public displays of affection quickly wearing off. “i was just saying, it looks like she forgot a coat.”

jean snorted from the front seat. “yeah and because you’re a dumbass who doesn’t wear one either, i’m gonna have to give her mine later.”

jean’s lighthearted words lit a devious lightbulb in your mind, the gears of your plan now in full swing. you leaned forwards, wrapping your arms around the back of the chair and consequently jean’s broad chest. you leaned your head to the side, a grin on your face.

“you really are too sweet to me, jean-jean!” you cooed, the feeling of eren’s grip tightening on your thigh an indication of just how well this was working in your favor. jean chuckled at the familiar nickname, hand coming up to pat your arms wrapped around him.

you let go and slid back into your spot, eren’s face clearly peeved at your display of affection. for once, you had the upper hand. and you were going to milk it all the way.

the local bowling alley was a small, dank building that prided itself on its catering towards college students without much else to do. as connie skidded to a stop in his self-designated parking spot, the legacy of the building seemed to live up to its expectations.

eren hadn’t said anything else on the ride over, just kept his hand protectively (and respectfully) placed on your lower thigh. you were much more careful sliding out of the car this time, hand blatantly coming down to cover your ass. you knew that eren was watching you, as he was quick to follow you from the vehicle and stand behind your brazen figure.

he wrapped his arms lazily around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head as you waited for your friends to pile out of the car. you’d grown accustomed to his touchy nature, suddenly deciding to press your ass against his groin. the gesture was small, but you could feel eren’s dick harden within his pants.

“careful!” he hissed, hopping back in an attempt to shake away his sudden erection. you snickered to yourself, giving him a glance over your shoulder as you followed your friends into the building.

the interior was the same as it’d always been; drowned out with black lights and the smell of wax. it was the kind of atmosphere that reminded you of your earliest days of childhood; attending large birthday parties and eating way too much cheaply made cake.

the attendant was a short man named george, one who’d acknowledged connie’s arrival with annoyance.

“head to our usual lane guys,” connie pointed, a grin on his features. you all made your way towards lane ten, eren in a sulking tow behind you.

as everyone began to sit down, jean motioned for you to sit next to him. “each side will be opposing teams. we’ve gotta be on the same team, per usual.” he called innocently.

you and jean had dominated your friend group bowling tournaments each time before, and you figured this would be no different. you started towards him, surprised when you felt eren’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“she’s going to be on my team this time, if you don’t mind,” eren stated in a quipped tone, something that would normally go undetected by jean due to their frenemy behavior. you knew that eren’s words were coming from a place of jealousy, sincerely trying to hide your sadistic grin.

jean scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah, right, jaeger. she’s going to be on connie and i’s team, like always.”

you nodded your head in agreement, spinning to face your boyfriend. your skirt lifted ever so slightly at the action, eren’s teal eyes snapping to the garment with an annoyed perseverance. “don’t worry, i’ll take it easy on you.”

he knew what you were doing. he knew that the thought of a part of you - a part specifically reserved for him - nearly on display for anyone who cared enough to pay attention, was enough to fill him with a primal sense of possessiveness.

eren had never been particularly good at hiding his emotions. in fact, he’d been known to let them consume him in an embarrassingly juvenile way. as you sat down next to jean, your bare leg bumping his, eren couldn’t suppress the annoyance that washed over him. he folded his arms, the thought of your tight little-

“eren?” armin called out, eren snapping from his lewd thought process. you took notice, leaning down to tie your bowling shoes. “did you hear me? i said here’s your shoes.”

you listened to eren clear his throat and apologize, deciding to chat with jean and connie as everyone got ready to play.

the final straw in your plan hadn’t even happened on purpose. it’d come to you itself, as if the powers that be were purposefully trying to get you rammed into oblivion. it came after the first few rounds of bowling, after a few near misses with jean regarding the skirt, each one sinking eren further into his foul mood. it came in the form of a lanky, awkward looking employee.

he couldn’t have been any older than eighteen, carrying sasha’s order of nacho fries and your coca cola. he’d meant his comment to be nice as you got up to grab your drink. he hadn’t meant to say something that would send your childish boyfriend over the edge.

“oh, uh, i like your skirt,” he’d commented awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck. you smiled politely in response, eyes flitting over to eren. and if looks could kill, that awkward teenage boy would’ve been dead on sight.

eren’s eyebrows were furrowed, jaw clenched tightly. you felt your cheeks heat as he made eye contact with the boy, standing from his seat. eren was tall, looming behind you as he protectively wrapped himself around your figure.

“thanks,” he said flatly, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you held your breath at the feeling of eren deeply exhaling against the sensitive skin, large hands squeezing your hips. the boy quickly looked at the ground, nodding before deciding to leave. eren waited until he was gone to remove himself from you, an annoyed twitch in his eye. “fucking little pervert.”

you rolled your eyes, taking a generous swig from your coke. “he was just being nice.”

eren glared at you, watching as you started back towards your friends. “nice my ass. i know you’re doing this just to rile me up.”

“what ever do you mean?” you snickered, purposefully swaying your hips as eren scoffed, plopping back down in his seat.

you made your way over to your teammates, sitting down and watching armin finish his turn. a couple minutes went by, chugging your coke and getting ready for connie to take his turn.

“i think i’m gonna go use the bathroom,” you hummed, jean nodding his head in understanding. you waited until connie tossed the bowling ball down the lane, effectively missing all of the pins. you knew you’d drank the soda way too fast, standing from the bench and making your way towards the dimly lit restrooms.

they were dark inside, with red lighting like something out of a sex club. you pushed the heavy door open, quickly locking it behind you and relieving yourself.

as you washed your hands in the sink, you thought about just how riled up eren was getting. it was humorous, in more ways than one, but you couldn’t help the slight guilt that crept up the back of your neck about your actions.

but then again, it wasn’t like eren wasn’t known himself for being a tease. you couldn’t count the number of times where he’d purposefully made you jealous or grabbed your ass in an inopportune moment. so what was the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine?

you flattened your hands against the skirt, making sure it was straight before unlocking the door and heaving it open, stepping out into the dark hallway.

you jumped back at the appearance of a dark figure leaning against the wall, defensively clutching your chest as you stood in front of your slightly amused boyfriend.

“mind if we chat?” he asked, voice edging an emotion that you knew you couldn’t get into at the moment. your eyes glanced down the end of the hallway, no one in sight. you looked back to him, his pink lips turned upwards, the word ‘gotcha’ written all over his face.

“we should probably head back out there,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way eren was sizing you up. he just smiled, pushing himself from the wall and taking a step towards you. all of the confidence you’d had in your teasing flew out the window, swallowing at the downfall of your plan.

“don’t worry. i told ‘em my mom was calling,” he purred in response, index finger coming up to gently trace against your jaw. it was his turn to be smug; everyone in your friend group knew that carla’s phone calls were a draw out, lengthy affair. he’d trapped you.

you held your breath as he stepped forward, slowly tilting your jaw to place a deceivingly sweet kiss to the skin. you felt embarrassed at the way your cunt throbbed at the action, his lips moving to tease the shell of your ear. “but what about me?”

“what about you?” eren sneered, his voice turning slightly sour, fingers roughly gripping your jaw as he placed a kiss right below your ear. “this is what you were asking for, wasn’t it? now be a good girl and go back into the bathroom for me.”

you hesitated for a moment, thinking about your friends bowling a mere 100 feet away. eren’s eyes were dark, and the churning you could feel at the pit of your stomach was only making it harder to resist.

all it took was the thought of eren bending you over the sink, fucking you stupid for you to demurely shift in place, turning to shove the bathroom door open once again. you could feel your neck burning at the thought of how easily you’d just submitted, but you wanted this. more than anything.

the bathroom was no desirable place; it smelled like generic soap and had discarded pieces of toilet paper on the ground. eren didn’t seem to care, gingerly locking the door behind himself before roughly shoving you forward facing against the cool, knock off linoleum countertop.

you could feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, your reflections in the dirty mirror lit under the red lightbulbs. he was commanding; aggressively grinding himself into you, your skirt beginning to ride up at the motion.

eren made eye contact with you in the glass, one hand coming forward to tilt your neck to the side. he slowly brought his lips down, peppering the skin till his mouth met the base of your neck. he made sure you were watching as he pressed his tongue flatly against the skin, your breath hitching as you watched him drag the wet muscle up to your jawline.

“you’re such a tease,” he growled against you, rolling his hips into your ass. you could feel your skirt starting to ride up even more, the cold air uncomfortable. “’s’hot, knowing your pretty little cunt is so exposed.”

his hand on your jaw slipped around your throat, squeezing lightly in warning as he flipped the edge of your skirt up.

you squeaked as his other hand snaked between your legs, middle two fingers slowly sliding themselves between your already soaking center. he rubbed at your clit, breath hot against your neck as he forced you to watch him through the mirror.

“look at how pretty you are,” he mumbled as he plunged his two digits inside of you, the sudden sensation causing a gasp to leave your lips. he wasn’t playing nice; roughly digging his fingers all the way to the last knuckle. his other hand squeezed your throat tighter. it hurt, but you couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched around him, chest tightening. “so pretty for me. n’only me.”

he slowed his fingers, pumping in and out of you, the sound of your slick causing him to grow impossibly harder. the feeling of his cock pressed against the flesh of your ass sent another throb to your cunt, eren smirking in response.

“needy for my cock after teasing all day?” he asked, stuffing his fingers particularly deep, a strangled moan slipping past your lips. you struggled to nod your head against his grasp, the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you at such a rhythmic pace causing you to grind your hips against his hand and subsequently his cock.

he quickly pulled his fingers out from inside of you, hand growing tighter around your throat. “you were such a little whore today. a little whore who needs to learn a thing or two.”

you could feel tears prickling in your eyes, eren’s hand that was wrapped around your throat coming up to pry your mouth open. you didn’t have a chance to react before he was slipping his sheen coated fingers past your lips, the saccharine flavor hitting your tastebuds.

“suck for me, pretty girl,” he said lowly, hooded eyes watching you in the mirror. you did as you were told, wrapping your lips around his knuckles and swirling your tongue around his fingers. the taste wasn’t completely pleasant or unpleasant, your mouth releasing with a smack.

eren pressed down on your tongue with his fingers, saliva filling your mouth before he dragged the two digits down your chin and throat, leaving a shiny trail in their wake.

he brought his hands down to roughly grope your chest, your own hands pressing against the countertop to keep you steady. eren gripped the hem of your sweater, forcing the fabric up to your midsection.

“off, take it off.” he demanded, leaning back from you but still keeping his groin pressed against your ass. you were quick to oblige, pulling it over your head. as you did so, you could feel eren palming your ass under the skirt, his dark eyes fixated on the sight of your little skirt riding up on your skin.

you dropped the sweater to the ground, knowing you’d regret it later, but you couldn’t be bothered. eren didn’t wait, letting go of your ass to unclasp your bra, the undergarment falling into the empty sink. he palmed at your newly exposed breasts, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples.

he was watching you in the mirror, the sight of you batting your eyelashes with your saliva on your chin only making him more possessive. it sent a twitch to his cock, hands releasing from your chest to shove you against the cold glass.

“want me to show this pretty cunt who it belongs to, hm?” eren nearly growled, the thought of jean or that employee ever being lucky enough to see you like this pushing him over the edge.

you tried to nod against the mirror, your breasts pressed against the cold material only aiding the way your center throbbed mercilessly for whatever eren was about to do. his hand came up to fist your hair, the other haphazardly yanking down his sweats and boxers.

you could see his veiny cock slap against his stomach through the mirror, the tingling in your clit multiplying at the sight of it. eren smirked at your staring.

“fuck,” he hissed, his gaze drawn to your skirt pooled around your waist, glistening center ready for him to abuse. and he couldn’t wait any longer, rubbing the tip of his cock between your legs.

a gasp ripped through your throat at just how deeply eren thrusted into you, his hips hitting your ass with a loud smack. it hurt; his brows furrowed as he completely pulled out from you, just to ram himself back inside your tight cunt.

“what’s wrong?” eren asked breathlessly, pounding into you as hard as he could. you were jerking against the mirror, mouth open as your nose began to tingle; a tell-tale sign of tears. your boyfriend had a sadistic smile on his face, a piece of hair falling from his bun to rest against his forehead.

“ah- hurts,” you gasped out, the sound of eren pounding into you filling the small space. eren hit you with a particularly deep angled thrust, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. he tightly fisted your hair, yanking on the follicles as hit other hand gripped your waist for better leverage. it hurt so bad, but so good.

“look at you, look at you take my cock like this,” he said, voice gravelly as he began to buck his hips faster. you could feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, eren’s hand around your waist moving to guide your knee up onto the counter top for better leverage. the pain lessened with his movement, his animalistic thrusts growing pleasurable. “such a good little whore. a little whore who’ll only let me fuck her like this, hm?”

you moaned out against the glass, eren yanking your hair as an indication for a worded response. “yes-yes. all for you, only you.”

eren groaned out at your words, his head leaning back as he slammed into you from behind. he was blurry as your breath fogged the glass, but just the image of him bucking his cock deep within your throbbing cunt was enough to have you seeing stars.

he was filling you up so nice, pressing himself against you as the veins in his arms grew prominent. you could feel him twitching inside of you, your own center clenching around him as he made sure you knew you were his.

“such a little tease, showing off her pretty little cunt like that,” eren moaned out, shamelessly loud. he buried himself within you, your eyes rolling back in your head as the building anticipation between your legs became too much to bear.

“eren-” you heaved, him quickening his pace, hitting your cervix over and over. it was enough to make the tears come back, your vision becoming hot white as he bucked his hips once more, stuffing his cock impossibly deep within you. your orgasm didn’t reach its climax until you felt eren’s length twitch, effectively filling you with his cum.

the high was incredible; the cold mirror a stark contrast to the hot, burning sensation as eren thrusted out his own climax.

the two of you stood for a moment, mirror foggy and bathroom humid as you recollected your composure. when eren did pull out, he watched his cum slowly drip down your thigh, fingers attempting to stuff it back inside of you.

“don’t let it drip out,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your sweaty cheek. you could only roll your eyes, peeling yourself from the glass. he gingerly pulled his pants back up, delivering a swift swat to your ass as he stood straight again.

“y’know, you should wear skirts more often.”

“you should get jealous more often.”

“sounds like a deal to me.”

<3 <3 <3

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jeager #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren yeager #eren yaeger x reader #eren yeager smut #eren yaeger #eren yeager x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren smut #eren #eren jäger #emmy writes #👗 anon

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binniesthighs · 3 years

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don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin

it’s the last day that you might ever see him again, so, to hell with it, right? (image from straykidsfilm on twt!)

please read the CWs bc this fic talks about body image!! this is something close to me as well, and I wanted to share some cute innie love!! <3

hey you reading this! you’re gorgeous ;)

don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin

Pairing: self insert, female reader x yang jeongin

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: high school crush au (everyone depicted in this fic is at least 18), virgin!reader, virgin!jeongin, plussize!reader (i think this is the right tag, if not plz correct me!) first time au, cuties in love, softdom!jeongin, (hehe ya know I love me a soft dom), sub!reader, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties!) semi-public sex, nipple play (f), fingering (f), cumshot, somewhat of a quickie, dirty talking, lil bit of a corruption kink, cute fluffy undertones!

CWs: brief mention of a fistfight and blood/wounds, insecurity over weight and descriptive narrative about body weight/appearance and negative self image

Word count: 7.1k

Word had spread that someone had gotten into a fight on the last day of school. Supposedly, it had occurred during the second to last hour of the day, and it was a group of three to four boys. The rest of the details had been unclear, but you had heard mutterings about their names, or how each of them had walked into the principal’s office with bloodied knuckles, fat lips, and purple bruises to their cheekbones. You had heard that one of them had laughed in the face of the principal, claiming that they simply had it coming.

“I heard that they were from class A-4. Or was it A-3?”

Your friend leaned over with her skirt ruffling on her plastic chair.

“Who could be so stupid?” She strung her bubble-gum around her finger with cracked nail-polish. “Are they looking to graduate, or what?”

“I don’t know...”

In your lap, you hands grew clammy with sweat. It was against your will, but you couldn’t but help thinking...

Yang Jeongin was in class A-4.

Your chest tightened thinking about if it had been him that had gotten in the fight.

It was no secret that you had harbored a crush on the boyishly handsome student from the other class of your same year. You had read or seen somewhere that the reason that they called crushes “crushes” was because they did just that--they crushed you to the full extent of the word. Whoever had said that, you had learned that they were 100% right. Having a crush on Yang Jeongin had been the most painful experience of your life. Since middle school, it had been something that you had scribbled in your diary, and the reason why you would hold your breath when he walked by with his friends, or when you’d see him on the same bus as you.

You can’t exactly recall when it started, it just kind of did.

There was nothing extremely notable about him: he wasn’t his class president, he wasn’t the ace of a sports team, nor did he even have friends who really were notable either. No matter how much you pondered it, you couldn’t figure out what it was about him.

Yang Jeongin was known for having a kind smile and a jovial laugh, so you just decided that it must’ve been one of these things. This semester he had ashy-grey brown hair, and your best friend still hadn’t heard the end of it from you. Over time, you had learned that he liked banana milk with his lunch and kept a fox enamel pin on his backpack. He had worn the same beat up sneakers for all of high school and wore this same grey hoodie on most days when it would get cold.

A couple times you had imagined what it would’ve been like if he had let you borrow it on the days when it would mist on spring mornings, or when snow would fall early in November. There had even been times when you imagined him holding your hand, walking down the hall, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to hold you close...among other things. Somehow, you liked to think that he would be the kind of person who would love you more than you could love yourself. Granted, you never could know for sure. Being optimistic made up half of your fantasies.

“Just confess already.”

Your best friend had said half a million times over the course of the years.

The more you had contemplated it, the less sense that it made. A confession would’ve been a whole lot easier if he had known who you were.

“There's no way.” You had said morosely. “As if he would say yes to me.”

“Can’t know unless you try.” Your friend smiled, sucking at her lollipop on the walk home. “Don’t pretend like you’ve never written him a confession letter before...” Her backpack hopped up and down with her arms outstretched animatedly in that alley decorated with vines. “...Where do you keep them? In your desk? Under your bed? In your sock drawer?”

“Oh shut up!!” You nudged her, sending her spiraling out with laughter.

“If it’s the last day of school, you’ve got nothing to loose! You’ll never see him again! If he says no, no big deal!”

The clock ticked on the wall to your classroom, the seconds hand moving silently faster and faster the more that you looked at it. Under your desk, your fingertips pricked the edges of the pink envelope. You had written your the name as nicely as you could with flowery cursive with tiny flowers. On the back, you had sealed it with a sticker: an orange fox.

Your throat grew dry seeing only six minutes before the bell would ring, and then the metal legs of chairs would scrape on the floor, the hallway would flood with students, and you would make your way to his locker and pray that he would stop by there. In many ways, just thinking about it was enough to make your stomach do somersaults and for your hands to wet even more embarrassingly with sweat. Your knees felt limp, and you wondered if you even had it in you.

Even worse, a deeper fear crept in the back of your mind--it was much more venomous and horrifying, but you couldn’t keep it down. You feared that he would laugh in your face, throw the letter down, and throw his head back at you and how ridiculous your moment of confidence had been.

How could be like someone like me?

Perhaps your biggest fear of all, even greater than the rejection, was him admitting that he could never like someone like you.

Your skirt was tighter on you than most, at least, tighter than it was on the other girls. When you would shop at the school uniform store, you could never escape the glares from the ladies when you and your mother asked for the larger sizes that they had. Your soft cheeks were plush and squishy, and your belly striped with stretch marks that you had stopped looking at in the mirror. Because it was more comfortable, you wore leggings under you skirt, even in the warmer months, even if it made you sweat. Oversized sweaters would swim over your frame, for the very reason that you could swim in them.

As optimistic as you could be, there had been some nights worse than the others where tears would wet your eyes before sleep, no matter how many affirmations and positive sticky notes you had pasted to the back of your bedroom door.

How could I like someone like you?

It would be so easy for him to say it. Words flicked off the tongue hastily are the ones that often hurt the most. You just hoped and hoped that he had been everything that you had made him to be...as unrealistic as it was.

The bell chimed, and you felt your heart leap into your throat when the room erupted into cheers and papers and desks went flying and screeching around the floor.

“Are you ready?” Your friend winked, and the corners of the letter pricked your fingers.

~💌~

With some stroke of luck, he was exactly where you had wanted him to be. Even then, some small part of you had secretly had hoped that he hadn’t just so you could walk away. You would’ve walked away from him, that school, everyone who had known you and just let it be. However, fate had been much kinder to you...damned fate.

Your heart quickened upon seeing him. He was wearing that same grey hoodie with the drawstrings that he would tie into bows sometimes, and that same enamel pin shone silver on his backpack. You realized that it even looked almost exactly like the sticker you had used. His navy uniform slacks were dusted with dirt however, and one of the knees had a bit of a tear to it. In your horror, you then saw the scrapes on his face: one right under his eye, on his left cheek, and a thin red line on his bottom lip where it had cracked open. Before you could think of anything else, seeing how much it must’ve hurt him made your heart twist.

From your backpack, you drew out the rest of the stuff that you had prepared, and tried your best not to collapse from the way that your knees trembled.

“H-hi...” You announced, head down, and mouth deathly dry.

Yang Jeongin whipped his head over to see you, slightly startled. Up this close you could see his adorable brown eyes that even looked at if they glistened with stars in them.

“...Hi?” He returned, closing his locker, and wetting his lips.

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and you quickly presented him with the letter, the carton of banana milk with the heart sticker on top, and the tiny case of animal shaped cookies.

With eyes glued to the floor and his beat up gym shoes, you said the words as fast as humanly possible, “I-know-that-you-don’t-know-who-I-am-but-I’ve-really-liked-you-for-such-a-long-time-now-and-seeing-as-its-the-last-day-of-school-I-wanted-to-tell-you-so-please-accept-this!!”

You waited for what felt like hours, then he took the items from your hands with a tentative touch. “Um...thank you...for this.”

This was it. It was happening. You had already known that it wouldn’t get much better, and the way that he looked petrified only made you feel even more heat rush to your cheeks. Even then, now that the words had escaped your lips for the whole universe to hear, it felt good in some small, relieving way.

“Y-you don’t have to say anything back. Please don’t...don’t feel obligated to, I just...” Your voice trailed, and your eyes wandered to the exit door behind him, and the green of the summery trees.

I should just leave. It would be better if I left. If I walk away, this is all over...

The hem of your skirt tickled your nervous fingers, and you had nearly made up your mind. You wished at least that he would say something rather than just staring.

“I-I can just...leave, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...how could I think that...nevermind.”

It took everything that you had, but you blinked the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and you hiked your backpack straps up a little higher.

You motioned to the things in his hands, “I hope that you enjoy those things and...good luck at university.”

You flashed a feeble smile for him, right back to his astonished face. Just outside of the exit, there was the rest of the world in front of you, and you also took peace in the fact that it really was a really nice day then.

“W-wait!!” He suddenly said with a slight crack to his voice, turning after you to grab at your wrist too. As soon as he did, his eyes widened, the the gruff voices of a group of boys echoed down the hall.

“Where is that shithead?? This isn’t over.” The tall boy from class A-4 balled up his hand into a fist, and smacked it into his palm. The tall boy and about three of his friends also had red knuckles and scratches on their faces, each to a varying level of degree.

“Shit.” Jeongin bit his lip, and his grip on your wrist tightened. “Uh-can you come with me?? This way?? Fuck--” He nodded toward the opposite hallway, and your head spun thinking why he would want you to come with him.

“What?? Why??”

“Just--” He watched the boys coming frantically and hid behind his locker door. “They’ll beat the shit out of me again. Just....come on!”

A nervous thrill sent a shiver down your spine feeling his hand and the warmth there while he guided you, pushing and parting the sea of bodies chatting and hugging each other goodbye.

“Where are we going?” You called to him, and the little carton of banana milk swayed in his opposite hand.

“I don’t know. Anywhere.”

You followed him further and further, through the hallways that had emptied of students or any semblance of them. Shades had been pulled in most of the empty rooms, and the chairs had been placed on top of the tabletops of desks. Both of your shoes squeaked under the flooring when you turned corners, and the sound of his nervous panting became louder and louder. Where he held you, the sleeve of his sweater bushed up against you, and it was even softer than you had imagined.

Jeongin pulled at several doorknobs, finding them to be locked, head turning to see if the group of boys had followed. At last, he found one that did unlock, and he threw it open on its hinges as quickly as he could. It was one of the storage closets for the theater department, and it was dustily coated on all surfaces and even moldy smelling, with not a window to be found. Jeongin flicked on the light, revealing the stacks of props and furniture that you vaguely remembered seeing in performances in the past.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you so hard.” Jeongin finally said.

“It...it’s okay.”

“If I got caught with them again I might as well kiss college goodbye...” He raked an anxious hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to fight with them before...”

“Are...you okay?” You softened your tone, seeing the way that the pink marks on his face must’ve been made against the hard cement of the floor outside.

“I-I’m fine. Thank you.”

His eyes really did look like they glistened.

“It...it’s really funny actually...” He shoved his hand into his pocket, fumbling with the contents with a shaking hand, then took out a crumbled piece of notebook paper that had been torn. “Take it.” He prompted with wide eyes.

“Me??”

“Who else?” He laughed lightly.

The note had been written in black ink, and it smudged and bled to the other side of the paper, and the scribbled handwriting looked rushed as if it was an afterthought or some kind of crazed ramble. You unfolded it all the way, starting at the first sentence.

dear y/n from A-2,

you probably don’t know my name, but I’m yang jeonjin jeongin from class A-4, i wanted to write this to tell you that I think that youve you’re really pretty, beautiful and that i’ve been kind of watching you for about a year now, i’m sorry if that’s creepy but, yeah, i just think that you’re really cool and i like it when you smile. i’m sorry that i didn’t say anythimg aything anything about this sooner, i was kind of shy about it to be honest, i didn’t want you to thank think that I was being disrespectful or anything like that, but seeing that its the last day of shcool school and I don’t have a ton to lose loose lose i thought that it was worth a shot. if this doesn’t go the way id i’d like it to, please don’t stop smilng smiling ♥

-yji

By now, the boy from A-4 was swaying his body back and forth almost violently as he waited for you to read the letter and fiddled with his arms crossed. His teeth tugged at his lip, and he anxiously awaited for you to say something. Little did he know that reading his words you were so shocked that you were certain that you had forgotten how to breathe for a couple moments.

“M-me? You mean this...for me?”

“Yeah?” He advanced to take the letter back, “I’m really sorry if it’s creepy, I know that you don’t know me at all and we’ve never spoken, this must be really startling but...I wasn’t expecting for you to write me one too.”

The adorable boy blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with a tiny growing smile.

“S-sorry that I was so quiet earlier, I was just really surprised.” Jeongin flipped your letter over too, then gasped a little seeing the fox on the back. “Oh.”

On the other side of the door, the loud and clambering footsteps of that group of idiotic boys clomped and they grunted among themselves asking where Jeongin had went. The two of you held your breath, and soon the voices receded. Once they passed, you threw your backpack around to scramble around the front pocket, pulling out a Band-Aid that must’ve been there for at least a year, but it still worked the same.

“Here...do you need it?”

“Oh! Um-no, but, thank you.”

A silence filled the dusty room, and Jeongin awkwardly moved to sit on one of the old prop couches. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning you to do the same.

“The timing...kinda sucks.”

You laughed slightly, “That’s sort of my fault.”

“--My fault too.” He quickly added. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to know you sooner. Maybe we could’ve...” Jeongin dug his fingers into the velvety upholstery.

Slowly, your sinking insecurities started to creep like vines with thorns, and the words spilled out of your mouth before you had something to do with it.

Maybe he’s just being nice? Are you really certain that letter was meant for you?

“I guess that I’m just really surprised that you of all people could end up liking someone like me. Someone...that looks like me.”

The young boy cocked his head with his eyebrows confusedly crossed. “I don’t see what you mean?”

“‘Cause I’m like...” You motioned to your thighs, a bit chubbier, your larger breasts, and your skirt riding up your legs too. “...like this?”

“But there’s nothing wrong with you?”

“Psh...”nothing wrong with me”...” You laughed with sarcasm at the comment. “Have you seen the other girls in the school? Some of them are frickin’ idols for crying out loud...”

Jeongin’s eyes widened, and he scooched in a bit closer, but slowly; carefully. “What I’m trying to say is...that there’s no one else like you! And--”

“--That’s exactly it. I’m not like everyone else...”

Jeongin blabbered, and his hand found yours resting on your lap. “I-I’m not s-saying that’s a bad thing! I’m saying that the reason why you stood out to me was because I think...” He shied, cheeks becoming even rosier. “...Because you just seemed so happy all the time, like, you didn’t care what others did or thought of you, I could tell, even from kind of far away, that you were someone who’s real not some kind of made-up thing that you put on every morning for the rest of the world to see you as. Also...” He giggled, “I just thought that you were really cute too.”

His thumb brushed up against the back of your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small feeling.

“I mean...I do think about what people think of me, I think about it all the time...”

“I do too.” He said quietly. “Why else did I let it get so far that I let four guys gang up on me outside school?”

You didn’t press him for more, but merely let your opposite hand rest of top of his as you watched his expression fall. When he was in school, you had only ever seen him smile, but now seeing him like this, it was a whole other side. He looked up at you with his pleading eyes, and they were utterly gorgeous.

“My mom...my mom doesn’t make a ton of money. She barely makes enough to send to me school here, or buy me stuff like new clothes or uniforms each year. I almost never see her because she has to work so hard for me and my brothers...those...assholes had something to say about it and I kind of...snapped. No one can say shit about my mom when they don’t know how hard that she works for us.”

Your eyes fell to his scuffed and worn sneakers, and it all made sense.

“Then they found the letter...I didn’t want them to ruin the last good thing that I had going for me.”

In that moment, the whole world became silenced. You were the last good thing going for him and you had never even known.

Then, he smiled, broken as it was, bit it was still embodied his gentle warmth that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“But! It turned out okay I think.” Jeongin said with a sigh. He glanced down at your interlocking hands on your lap and chuckled a little bit. “Kinda cool that this worked out though. Maybe we could spend the summer getting to know each other?”

This time, you let one of your happy tears drip down your cheek, and nodded gleefully. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Jeongin smiled, just as you had seen him do it a hundred times, but this time you knew that it was all for you.

“Can I...can I kiss you? If that’s okay? I-I’m sorry if this is really forward...I just...really want to.” He asked gently, then wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

You nodded, feeling your whole body shake just a little with your nervousness and anticipation. The world appeared to melt away once he had leaned in to press his lips on yours as softly and as carefully as he could. In that moment, you had forgotten where you were, what time it was or the rest of the beautiful summer day outside the doors of that school. Here, it was just you and him. Embarrassing as it was, this had been your first kiss too. Your mind raced with a million thoughts, asking yourself if you had been doing it right, but once you felt him smile lightly into you, your chest shivered with a sense of relief.

You had never expected kissing to feel like this, and it was a bit strange feeling something so close and intimate right on your own skin. At the same time, it felt like nothing else in the entire world had, and you only wanted more and more of it. He was cautious and respectful in the way that he had tilted his head, and loving how he had cupped your face with his hands cracked and bruised. You didn’t know where to put your hands at first, but settled one hand on his thigh, and the other on his shoulder where you tugged at his white button up stained with dirt.

He too shook with a sigh, readjusting himself, then ran one of his hands down your arm to hold your hand were it rested on him. He tangled your fingers together, and made a tiny little gasp feeling you connect with him. In seconds, he allowed himself to grow rougher, running his lips over yours with a type of fervency that teased at your bottom lip where you felt the warmth of his tongue. It took no more consideration, and you gave him the permission to meet the heat of his tongue with yours between parted lips now becoming a bit swollen.

Jeongin broke your connection for moments, and a different kind of haze took over his eyes. The way that he looked over your quivering lips sent shivers through your whole body, and he dragged his thumb over the tiny streak of saliva that shone on your lip.

“Is it okay if I touch you? In other places?” His eyes fell, and you giggled at the way that a kind of lust-filled hunger seemed to overtake him. For years you had fantasized about him ravishing you like this, and giving love to every inch of your body no matter how hard it had been for you to do that same to yourself. Still, as hesitant as you were, you feared that he would get a taste of all of you, and still change his mind.

“Really?” You stammered, instinctually crossing your arms around your chest. “You don’t think that I’m gro--”

“If you’re about to say “gross” don’t.” His expression became much more serious. “I-I’ll say it again a million more times if I need to: you, all that you are, is what I’ve been thinking of for so long, I’d love to touch you wherever you’ll let me.”

This time, you didn’t know if the tears were happy or sad, but regardless, the fat drops still fell down your cheeks.

“--And you can say no too. If you’re not comfortable, we can just keep doing what we were doing...there’s nothing wrong with that at all.”

The dim yellow light in the room buzzed, and you had recalled all the many number of times that you had pictured the very scene about to occur. On lonely nights, you wished to have felt his hands all over you, and now, they really could be.

“What do you say?” He asked, and squeezed your hand along with his.

“Can we...go slow with it? I’ve never...no one has ever offered to--”

“Of course we can.” He smiled adorably, which was a bit odd considering what he had just proposed. “But...I didn’t hear you say yes?”

“Yes.” You quickly added with a nervous inhale, but held his gaze with your assurance. “I-I want you to.”

The boy from the other class grinned, then took to carefully running his hands down your arms once more, and craning his neck to plant sweet little kisses into your neck: the stimulation from which made you whimper out of your own accord, and he giggled upon hearing it.

“You like that?” He whispered greedily, then continued sucking a little harder. Jeongin shrugged down your sweater from the collar, and his wandering hands circled little rubs into your bare arms.

Next, his fingers crept up slowly and cautiously at the bottom of your shirt, testing at first, but not pulling up the fabric all together. His cold fingertips buzzed on your skin in that drafty room, and he brought his lips back up to yours, also making tiny trailed gasps as he crept up all the way to your breasts. The moment that he touched them, both of you appeared to shiver on each other’s bodies, and your kisses grew even needier. At first he cupped over the padding of your bra, kneading and squeezing to play with the way that they jiggled slightly then pulling a bit harder, and relishing the way that they filled up his palms.

“Does this feel good?” Jeongin asked on your lips and you nodded back immediately.

The two of you leaned back on the aged couch, and the young man cradled your head to guide you into the cushion of the upholstery. He admired you for a few moments under him with one leg between your thighs and the other supporting himself and slipping a little on the cement floors. His thigh was just close enough to the heat of your arousal between your legs, and it ached and throbbed so badly, you were convinced you had never felt a feeling as intense as this. He leaned in closer, and pressed the muscle into your clit, and a muffled moan caught on your lip that surprised even him.

“Can I touch you even closer?” He asked, and those ashy grey-brown strands of his dipped over his eyes.

“Y-yes...please.” You found yourself begging, and he mischievously grinned at your desperation.

Under the cotton of your shirt, his fingers slipped under the padding of your bra to toy with your breasts directly. He kissed even more tiny quaking breaths into your mouth, finally finding your hardened nipples and tweaking them with his thumb and index. He pulled lightly at them, making your buds even more sensitive. You cried out with a helpless “ah!” and he stopped, worry across his face as if he had hurt you.

“F-feels really good. Don’t...don’t stop please...Jeongin...”

Absentmindedly, your hips had started to grind against his leg, and he had taken notice of it too. Had you been a bit more attentive, you could’ve seen the way that his member had swelled in his navy slacks, and throbbed, begging for attention too.

You could barely watch, but he hiked your shirt up, baring your cushy tummy for him to see only and you threw your embarrassed arms over your face. As long as you had kept the evil words at bay, they were much more seductive than any affirmation you could’ve repeated to yourself.

“Oh-are you okay?” Do you want me to stop?” The young boy immediately stopped and removed his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no...it’s just...I’m really nervous be-because I’m--”

He sighed, then pulled your shirt down once more. “I can stop doing that for now. But...I just want you to know...I think that everything about you is even more beautiful than you know and these...imperfections--which they’re not--is everything that drives me crazy. Please don’t think that I see you negatively at all. I promise that I want to make you feel good everywhere.”

“Mm-okay.” You shook with a heavy sigh. “You aren’t...disappointed or anything?”

Jeongin pressed a simple kiss onto your upper lip with a smile “Disappointed? Why?”

“Because I don’t want--”

“--No?? I’m not disappointed at all! You don’t owe me anything at all! Especially when you’re not comfortable with it.”

“Hm, thank you.”

He continued with a tiny grunt, lowering himself even closer to you, “Can I please kiss you some more?”

You allowed him, with the warmth of your kisses' meeting in the middle. The heat in your pussy pooled even greater, and you grinded further, thirsting for him in ways that felt forbidden. For a brief moment, you felt the fear seeping back in, head racing with the dozens of thoughts that he might have if he were to see your stretch marks on your belly and on the top-parts of your thighs. The more that you found desire for him, the less that you were convinced that he wouldn’t desire you as much as you did him.

“Do you want...I can touch down here too?” Jeongin hushed, breaking for a minute to hold your eyes earnestly. “Would that be okay?”

He had noticed the way that you had pathetically rubbed into his leg, and this too sent your hands over your shy face.

“M’ sorry...I can’t help...it feels good too...”

“Don’t apologize! I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” Your crush smiled with his eyes smiling in the same way. “You can...probably tell.”

“--But...what if you don’t like it?”

He cocked his head, “Like what?”

Your lip quivered and you found tears stinging your eyes once more. “Don’t like..m-me? What I look like?”

“What!? Y/n...my head is like frickin’ spinning thinking about what you look under these clothes--can you please believe me?”

“It...it’s hard to...” Fat tears came waterfalling down your cheeks, and once again the young boy fully stopped his advances.

“The fact that I’m here with you, kissing you like this after daydreaming about it for so long...there’s nothing more that I want than to make you feel good right now. Trust me.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Y/n. I’m 100% sure. And you don’t--you don’t have to even take this off if you don’t want to...” He toyed with your skirt. “But these might get in the way.” He ran both of his hands up and down your thighs and leggings with flat palms, and you felt your whole body ache for more than just that. “Again, we don’t have to if you don’t want.” he gave you a reassuring smile, “We still have the whole summer--”

“I do!! I...still do...”

Your quick answer started the both you, but Jeongin still didn’t advance faster than what was comfortable to you. Instead, he carefully snaked his hands up and under your skirt, finding the elastic of the leggings then pulled.

His eyes blew out, enamored, seeing your bare skin, and he wetted his lips too seeing the way that your underwear had glistened with your essence. It was against your will, but you had soaked through your panties which he had swiped over a couple times accidentally, and the action itself sent an aching quiver to your untouched bud. You watched his every move has he angled his hand to ghost over the wet fabric, making you squeak from the new sensation. After, he found the band to your panties, pulling them down too.

“Wow.” He gasped, seeing the way that your bud twitched.

Jeongin dipped his fingers into your wetted folds, teasing at first.

“Woah.” He said with a little gasp. “You’re really...”

You stifled a moan with your lip, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer as his digits slicked with your arousal. “I-I know...I’ve never like, done anything like this before.”

The young boy’s thumb grazed over your clit, eliciting an immediate response, and your heels went digging into the cushion of the couch.

“This is your first time?’ He asked gently, two fingers now filling up your entrance.

The best you could, you tried to remain quiet, but the harder and deeper that he had advanced, the harder that it became. Your eyes wandered, right to the pressure he had created under his belt loops, and you wondered furiously what he would’ve felt like inside of you; if he could stretch you out, or what it would have felt to just be like that with another person.

Jeongin admired the way that your face scrunched up with a prideful little smile, and loved every minute of the way that your mouth would form airy “oh’s.”

“You like feeling my fingers inside of you? Fucking right into your wet pussy?”

His gaze held a lusty glaze seeing the way that your eyes blew out upon hearing his dirty words, and it only seemed to make him throb even harder himself.

“Y-yes...” You mewled, reaching out grabby hands to hold yourself steady on his shoulders, the other going to tug at his belt.

“I-I wouldn’t mind if you...you know...”

Jeongin rolled his body over yours, attaching his lips with yours once more just to let the words stick on your tongue. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Only-only if you want to--” You could barely get the words out feeling your thighs to shake as he coaxed your nearer and nearer with his thumb rubbing circles over your enlarged button.

“Of course I want to.” He assured you with even more kisses. “Are you sure?”

You hooked a couple of your fingers to pull out his black leather belt from its confines, muttering a tiny “yes.”

Jeongin carried out the rest of your job for you, going to quickly clink the metal of his belt away, tossing it to the cement floor haphazardly. From the boxers that he wore, there were a couple little wet stains, and the outline of his dick protruded thickly. Seeing it like this awakened something in you, something primal and feral that wanted nothing more to be connected to this boy and to have him spread you out until you could barely breathe. It was a horribly naughty thought, but as shameful as you felt, it was just as thrilling.

The boy sprung free his erect member, pink and dripping with his pearly pre-cum, and pumped at it a couple times, eyes raking over your whole body in the way that you had only ever dreamed of.

“This is actually...my first time too.”

He had said the words coolly, almost like he didn’t care at all about them, but you had assumed he had done so to keep you from worry.

“Oh fuck--” He muttered, taking his left hand to reach under your shirt once more and play with your breast roughly. “God, I can’t believe that this is happening.”

You coyly hiked up your skirt a bit higher for him to get better access, but not all the way, just as far as you could feel comfortable.

“I might’ve thought about this a couple times...” Jeongin said with a tiny smirk, then slowly dipped his hand back down to wet his fingers with your arousal, then coat it around his length. When he did so, he let out an unapologetic groan that wavered out of his mouth and filled up the room beautifully.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? I feel like I heard somewhere that it can kind of hurt for you the first time?”

You nodded out quickly to let him know, finally becoming impatient enough to claw at his arms all wrapped up in that grey hoodie of his.

He leaned down one final time, kissing you over before aligning himself with your pussy, kissing down your jaw, then to your neck where he buried his head as he lead himself into you. His arms shook where he held himself up, and the two of you shuddered at the feeling at last: that euphoric, tight, unreal feeling that you shared for the first time.

You whimpered out, digging your nails into his back, and his breath hitched in his throat too.

“I-its...s-so..tight.” Jeongin barely got the words out, but merely let himself throb around your velvet walls for a moment. “Y-you okay?”

“Mmhm.�� You said, barely able to get more words out than this.

Truthfully, it did hurt just a little, but not as much as you had pictured it to be, but it was more like a pressure, and it only grew heavier as you got used to him.

Jeongin started to thrust his hips slowly, even painfully so, but he maintained his pace dragging his hips over yours. He filled you up so fully it was unfathomable, and his length pressed up against your deepest spot, sending a kind of electricity through your whole body.

He settled into a rhythm, finally getting comfortable enough to return back to your mouth to slick his tongue across yours, and cradle the side of your face in his hand. You let little whimpers fade into his mouth, as he did for you, and after long, he had decided to speed up just slightly to milk himself off with your tight walls. To your surprise, he reached his hand back down to your clit to rub at it erratically. His pattern made little sense, but compared to how he had been stimulating you deep inside too, you could barely hold on.

Jeongin grunted, biting into your lip with a trace of teeth. “I-I want you to c-cum first--I can’t...I can’t--”

Before you could even understand what he had said, the young boy snapped his hips harder, eyes closed and tiny bits of sweat forming on his brow. The pads of his fingers pushed harder, and you found yourself spinning even closer to an orgasm by his hand, the thought alone was enough to fulfil your deepest fantasies.

“I want you to cum all over my dick for me, okay? Sh-shit...”

“Jeong--”

“God, you’re...fuck...” He laughed a little. “I really really like you y/n. I really...”

It was as if the words had been stolen right from his mouth, and his voice had abandoned him, but all he could do was press harder, faster, glide his hips over you rougher...

“M’ gonna--” You gasped out with your whole core tightening into a knot that was just about ready to snap. The pressure behind your clit was intense and burning, and you became light-headed nearing the brink.

All at once you came with a searing and inexplainable white heat--much more intense than you had ever felt before in your whole life, and every single muscle in your body quaked as you did so, and you threw your head back to that dusty cushion of the couch. Your eyes rolled back on their own accord, and the best that you could do to muffle your moans was throw your hand over your mouth--which was quickly removed by the young man to do the job himself.

Your thighs violently shook and you felt yourself tighten around him. He too strung out explicatives as if they were the only words that he had known. You breathed out shallow gasps into his palm, and soon he tore himself out of your walls with incessant breaths, only having to jerk himself off for a few moments before his swollen tip burst with the white strings of his cum. He continued jerking himself as such until he had nothing more to give, and his own thighs shook where he had straddled you. You could feel his warmth on your thigh and the way that it dripped and slicked with the sweat of your leg.

Jeongin’s entire face flushed with pink, and he stammered out realizing the mess that he had made all over you.

“I-I’m so sorry...I-I didn’t realize, I wasn’t thinking...I just...”

While it was a predicament, you mustered the best smile that you could for him, secretly and utterly loving the way that it felt on your bare skin.

“I’ve got...I can figure something out--”

“--Jeongin?”

His attention snapped back to you in your afterglow, and you could practically see the boy melt right then and there.

“--Don’t worry about it.”

Just as he had been before, his smile creased into a shy and awkward little line, and he could barely hold your eyes. After the initial embarrassment, he couldn’t help himself but admire you.

“Hey Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard this before, but I really do think that you’re perfect. If not perfect for yourself, I hope that I can show you how you are to me. You’re perfect for me. You’ve always been.”

“So have you.” You admitted to him in that cobwebbed room that held all kinds of forgotten trinkets and items.

“And thank you for giving me your letter too.” Jeongin raised the back of your hand to his lips where he placed a chaste kiss, then helped you carefully back up as to not make a mess of your skirt with the white staining your leg.

Your crush smiled, then let out a gleeful exhale, “I can’t wait for this summer.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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fantastic-bby · 3 years

Text

SKZ vs. being embarrassingly drunk

Pairing: Reader x Member

Word count: 3k

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Spending a night out with the boys and they get absolutely hammered (and cuddly)

Warnings: Alcohol usage

A/n: 1. Pls drink responsibly 2. Anon I’m so sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy it ^^’

Masterlist

Chan

Probably wouldn’t let himself get drunk drunk

Like he knows how to have a good time

He just wouldn’t get all CRONKED

Or at least he would try to avoid that

BUT

There’s a big but

He strikes me as someone who has a low/moderate alcohol tolerance

Which means that if he really doesn’t watch how much he’s taking

This man would end up flying into the next dimension

So in the situation that he does end up getting cronked

He probably would be clingy or quiet

Would hug onto you like a koala

Would also end up being embarrassing in his mind he’s doing perfectly fine

“(Y/n), you’re reeeeeeeally pretty”

Ofc you’d just giggle at him

You’re aware of how Chan doesn’t really let himself go like this

You find it so amusing but you know he should probably drink water or smth so he doesn’t end up throwing up in the bathroom

“Drink water, Channie”

“No!”

-_-

“I don’t need water, (Y/n). I have youuuuu”

Chan wraps his arms around you and kinda smooshes his face into your arm

And as much as you love how amusing it is

He hasn’t drank water since he started drinking alcohol

“Channie”

You slide the glass towards him and he shakes his head like a child

Of course he has to be stubborn when he’s drunk

“Drink water”

He sticks his tongue out at you

Now you’re >:( bcs you don’t want anything happening to him!!

“Drink the water, Chris”

The moment he hears his English name it’s almost like he sobers up a bit

“Why are you so scary?”

He wouldn’t admit that when he’s sober

But he’s scared of you only because you have the tendency to be strict with him when it comes to taking care of himself

You’re the only person that he honestly listens to when it comes to caring for himself but he would NEVER admit it

Bcs admitting to that means admitting that he likes you c:

Chan listens

He drinks the water and he smiles when you smile at him

“Good job, Channie”

The praise makes him give you a toothy smile while he wraps his arms around you again and pulls you into a hug uwu

Minho

Seems like he would get cronked on a normal Tuesday evening bcs he can

But I think Chan mentioned once?? That they actually don’t like alcohol?? Don’t quote me on this pls I could be wrong

Anygays

Minho would probably just be really flirty or might become more dry

Like he would roast people more than usual if he gets cronked

“(Y/n), you should drink more, you lightweight”

But you know he’s joking

Would pretend he isn’t flustered

Tbh if he gets flustered while he’s drunk

It’s not like anyone can tell bcs his face might be red as hell

“(Y/n), do the shots”

o_o

“I have to drive you guys home”

“Noooooooo, you have to drink with meeeee”

Minho grabs onto your hands and he starts tugging you closer to him

Kinda just grabs you and pulls you until you fall into his lap

“Let loose, baby”

Wow okay

o_O

“We can always get someone else to drive us home”

O_O

He pushes the shot glass towards you

And you’re just staring at him like uhhh…

The reason Minho wants you to drink with him is lost in his wasted ass mind

But he just wants to make sure you don’t remember anything that he might end up telling you

Like if Min accidentally confessed to you c:

But he can’t really tell the difference between sober you and drunk you when he’s absolutely wasted out of his mind

“I think you’re really nice, (Y/n)”

“You’re nice too, Lino”

“Nonononono”

He shakes his head as he pushes you back so that you’re sitting straight and pulls you towards him so that he can hug you

“I think I like (Y/n). But you can’t tell them that”

Oh no

“(Y/n)’s always so pretty and cool looking”

“Minho”

“Nooo sshh I’m not done talking yet”

You just look at him like :| bcs you know that when you tell him about this in the morning, he’s gonna be embarrassed and start whining about why you didn’t give him water

Which you actually tried to do

Minho just

Decided he didn’t want any water -_-

“Do you think (Y/n) likes me back?”

A whole ass cutie

You laugh and smile

“Definitely”

Changbin

This man

I had input from some of my other friends

We all collectively agreed that this man is a TANK

And by ‘tank’ I mean he would not get drunk easily

Could probably take Changbin like a shit ton of shots before he starts to feel anything

So if he gets drunk drunk

He might end up being a bit more wee woo than usual

And by ‘wee woo’ I mean that he would be completely off the fucking rails excuse my language

But I feel like since Binnie’s more of an extrovert anyway, if he were to get drunk then

Well

He would be even more of an extrovert

Like he would be going WILD

So if he was embarrassingly drunk and you just happened to be his crush

“(Y/n)!!!!! (☆▽☆)”

His face is red, his shirts | | this close from coming off, and his beanie is lost under someone’s ass because he threw it off before he started dancing on the bar

“Bin, get down before you hurt yourself”

He looks down at you w his head tilted and this grin on his face

You have to admit his eyes are sparkling like you’re the most interesting person in the room and it makes your heart bust the fattest uwu

“Come on!”

He doesn’t give you a choice

Changbin’s climbing down the bar and taking your wrist to drag you towards a less crowded area

“Dance with me!”

His hands are holding yours respectfully while he sways you’re actually keeping him up bcs he’s stumbling all over the place

“Binnie, be careful”

He almost trips and you have to hold this hunk of a man up

He giggles tho and pokes at your cheek

“You’re so cute. I’ve spent so long wanting to tell you that I find you so cute!”

Now you’re blushing like a mess

“You shouldn’t drink so much, (Y/n). Your face gets super red!”

Yeah blame it on the alcohol when you haven’t even drank a drop

“You need water”

Luckily for you, Changbin obediently follows you to the bar so you can get him water

He gulps it down almost immediately and you panic slightly because he might choke

But he’s fine when he puts the glass down

For a moment he turns to you and his eyes widen

Like he’s sobered up and he realises what he’s done

“Oh god—”

“More drinks for the entire bar!”

You look towards the voice

Surprisingly it’s Chan

You turn back to Changbin and he’s already on his fifteenth shot of the night -_-

Hyunjin

A FLIRT!!!

If he’s already a flirt now

Alcohol would just increase his flirting to a BILLION

I hate him and his perfect face and his perfect dancing and his perfect hair I HHHHHHHHHHH

Hyunjin strikes me as someone who would either be more moderate to high tolerance w alcohol

So he would probably be better at holding his alcohol than Chan is but not as much as Changbin

But this man OOF he probably also just starts dancing like a madman when he’s drunk and also flirting with everything he sees

He might even flirt w a chair but that’s just me bullying him at this point

I feel like he would only get hammered on nights when he either needs to relieve stress or when he knows he doesn’t have anything important the day after

So it’s like a weekend, Hyunjin’s chilling with the gang, he’s drinking

You know he’s pretty much gone when he slams his shot glass on the table and turns to you

“(Y/n)... you are… amazing”

You stifle a laugh but you don’t say anything bcs you see that he’s still going

“You’re like… godly… I can’t believe you’re driving me home…”

His eyes are barely open btw that’s how hammered he is

“I can’t believe I’ve never told you this before”

“Mhm? What is it?”

“It’s a secret”

He moves closer towards you and smooshes his face against your shoulder

Hyunjin opens his eyes a bit more and they sparkle when he sees you

“I like you”

“Aww”

Your heart’s actually beating a million a minute bcs you’re certain he’s confessing to you

But you wanna brush it off as just him meaning it as liking you as a friend

“No, you don’t get it. I like like you.”

“Huh”

“I never wanted to tell you because I didn’t want anything happening to our friendship”

“Hyunjin…”

Aaaaaand he passes out

(;¬_¬)

Now what do you do

He’s snoring now

Oh god

“Jinnie”

You shrug your shoulder lightly to wake him up and his head snaps up to look around

“Huh”

“I think it’s time to go home”

Of course, when you take him home, you leave water and advil on his bedside table

You also make a mental note to ask him about his confession in the morning

But Hyunjin’s too cronked to have a proper conversation so you’re honestly not even sure if he’ll remember the whole thing :|

Jisung

Might retreat to himself

I don’t know where exactly Sungie would be on the skz drunk spectrum

But it’s probably low to moderate so maybe around wherever Chan ranks

When he’s drunk he’ll probably cling onto someone he’s comfortable with

Just so happened to be you

Jisung’s usually quiet when he’s drunk because he doesn’t like talking or he feels too lazy to actually talk

But he’s hugging your arm like a koala when he puts his eighth beer bottle down onto the table

Everyone else left to dance except for you, Jisung and Jeongin

Jeongin’s pretty much bordering passing out beside you while Jisung doesn’t seem to be leaving your side anytime soon

“Sungie do you wanna go dance with the guys?”

He shakes his head like a stubborn child and only holds onto you tighter

“Okay”

You pat his head and he leans into your touch when you do

God he's so shdjdbdje a aDORABLE

"Sungie, do you want some water?"

He nods silently and you slide the glass towards him

He drink the water without a problem but then turns to you

"You’re like an angel"

Jisung’s lips are kinda pouty as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes

“You alright?”

He nods before leaning his head against your shoulder and curling up closer against you

“You’re warm”

(｡♥‿♥｡)

“Do you wanna go home now?”

“I wanna cuddle with you”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

You tilt your head and Jisung only looks up at you with a slightly bigger pout

“(Y/n), I wanna cuddle with you”

You give him water and he almost spills it drinks it

“(Y/n)! Come on and dance!”

It’s Minho

He’s pretty much pissfaced

But Jisung shakes his head furiously and almost pops your arm with how tight he’s holding on

“Don’t go!”

You turn to him and your heart almost bursts out of your chest with how cute he looks

So you turn back to Minho

“It’s okay, Min. You guys have fun”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere”

Jisung’s voice is softer now and you’re pretty sure he might pass out soon

That’s when you decide it’s time to head home

“Let’s take you home, Jisung”

“Are we gonna cuddle?”

“We can do whatever you want once we get back” c:

Felix

Super giggly

There’s two outcomes to drunk Felix

Cuddly Lix

Or ready to party Lix

I feel like he falls on the lower end for alcohol tolerance

Wouldn’t be surprised if he gets hammered after just a few shots

But also wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to control his alcohol intake for the sake of staying sober

In the chance that he does get hammered tho

He would be a giggling mess

“(Y/n), drink drink drink!”

Lix pushes the bottle towards you and you laugh bcs you’re supposed to stay sober for the night

“I can’t drink tonight, Lix”

“Nononono! Someone else can drive us home! We can always call a cab!”

You give him a look that tells him that you really shouldn’t and it gets him pouting

You pat his head as a silent apology just as you turn around to see Changbin and Hyunjin playing with the empty bottles

Immediately you’re like AA WHAT so unfortunately you have to turn your attention away from Felix to stop the rest of your friends from getting kicked out of the bar

Felix gets even more pouty

Because he wants your attention!

Because he likes you and he’s wondering why you’re giving everyone else your attention!

Felix becomes quiet

His intoxicated state makes it easier for his mood to dampen he typically wouldn’t be so open about his feelings

But now he’s all sad and pouty and watching you stop his friends from trashing the entire place

And he only thinks

Give me attention!!!!

So he starts tugging on your hand

“Hold on, Lix. CHANGBIN”

He retreats into his seat and sulks

When you turn back to him he’s just watching you with his brown eyes all sad looking

“I’m sorry, Lix”

“Hmph” TT

You pat his head gently until he leans into your touch and finally returns to holding onto your arm

Seungmin

Idk why but he’s part of the higher alcohol tolerance line

Probably up there w Changbin

I genuinely don’t know why but I feel like Seungmin holds his alcohol really well

But I also feel like he’s among the line that tries to stay away from actually getting really really drunk unless he knows that he can let loose

So if he’s like cronked as hell

It would probably be after about eight or nine shots

His face is all red, he’s just kinda stumbling all over the place and trying to convince you that he can walk in a straight line

“(Y/n), I’m totally fine, I promise”

“You just tripped over a whole table…”

It takes a bit of convincing but he finally lets you guide him from the bar to your table he tried to push you away at first but then he almost fell over

Seungmin almost immediately falls into his seat

When you sit next to him

He squeezes closer to you and throws his arm over your shoulder

“(Y/n), you have to spend more time with us”

You give him a silent agreement by nodding your head because you know that if you open your mouth you’ll probably end up laughing instead

“I don’t know why I’ve never told you this, but I like you a lot”

HUH

O_O

“Minnie, you’re drunk”

You try to tell yourself he’s just spitting nonsense because he’s drunk

But at the same time

He probably wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t true because he’s drunk

“Nooooo, you don’t get it”

He shakes his head and moves closer to you

“I’ve never told anyone this, but I really like you. You’re really cool and you’re really pretty and I don’t know why I’ve never mentioned this before”

“Hahaaaaa…”

“I’m so glad that you’re drunk because then you won’t be able to remember this”

“Seungmin…”

How are you supposed to tell him…

“It’s okay, (Y/n). I don’t think I’ll remember this either when I wake up.”

You just watch him and try not to giggle because he’s cute, but your heart’s about to break through your chest from how hard it’s pounding

How are you supposed to bring this up in the morning without embarrassing him

But you can’t just ignore it either

“Can you take me home please? I think I’m done for tonight”

You’re surprised he actually has the mind to tell you that he wants to go home before having more shots, but you oblige anyway

The conversation of his confession can wait until the morning

Jeongin

Feels like he’d be more on the quiet side

Maybe he’d be slightly more giggly and excited

But I feel like he’d just be clingy and quite kinda like Jisung

So he wouldn’t want to leave your side either ^-^

But he’s also this | | close to passing out in the bar

You’re there to drive him home but you’re also there to make sure he doesn’t get hurt while he’s there bcs Jeongin would be super stumbly

You hold onto him bcs you’re paranoid and you’re worried

Part of you knows that he would most likely be fine

But he’s a smol child so you’re just making extra sure he won’t get hurt

Might get a bit reckless too will tell you he’s fine

He’s sitting beside you while you try to make sure he doesn’t wander off on his own like Minho has and no one knows exactly where in the bar he is

“(Y/n) can we go to the arcade?”

You turn to him and he has these soft pleading eyes that just make you go AGH (♥ω♥*)

“Not now, Innie. Maybe tomorrow”

Oh no

HE’S POUTING NOW

You go into mild panic bcs you’re worried he might get sad

But instead he smiles lazily

“Don’t worry, (Y/n). I’ll wait until tomorrow” ^-^

“As long as I get to spend more time with you, I’ll wait”

AWWWW

“We can spend as much time as you want, Innie.”

His smile only grows and he leans into you

“You’re always so nice to me”

Jeongin’s smile becomes cheekier

He giggles and closes his eyes

Leans his head on your shoulder

“Innie, are you tired?”

He nods silently

“Do you wanna go home?”

He nods again

And looks up at you

And he has the brightest, sparkliest puppy eyes as he looks at you

Your heart goes BOOM BOOM BCS HE LOOKS SO CUTE AAA ╰(´⌣`)╯♡

“Let’s go home, Innie.”

420 notes · View notes

ichorai · 4 years

Text

mr. sad piano man ; m.yg

pairing ; min yoongi x reader

summary ; yoongi tries to teach you how to play piano because he loves you.

words ; 1.4k

warnings / includes ; no warnings, just fluffy yoongle for you !! includes yoongi being a softie™, and some making out oomf

a/n ; might mess around and make a part two to this later !! also i tried writing this in a more victorian-esque ?? style ?? ig that’s just bcs i’ve been reading the game of thrones books lol

Yoongi felt your eyes on him the moment you walked into the large music room. He could practically see your fond smile tilting your lips upwards, arms crossing over your chest as you leaned against the door frame. The man didn’t bother turning around despite his own small grin blossoming across his face.

The polished ivory keys were cold under his spindly fingers; it’d been a while since he last played. A soft, sorrowful melody was what he decided to start off with, hands gently plucking away at the tiles. The notes echoed across the vast room, conjuring a thick, dramatic atmosphere.

Immersed in his music, Yoongi had barely noticed when you crossed the short distance to stand by his side, simply watching him with fascination.

Suddenly, he was all too aware of your presence. The lulling melody came to an abrupt halt as his fingers stilled mid-note. The jarring echoes of the ghost of his piano followed after.

“Did you need something?” He didn’t sound angry. No, Yoongi could never be angry at you. It was a sincere question out of pure curiosity.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked at him in confusion, “Why must you always choose to play sad songs? Do you not know any happy ones?”

Yoongi had to shuffle to make room for you as you swung your leg over the cushioned bench, landing a quick peck to his cheek that had him blushing scarlet.

“Music is an emotional outlet for me. The piano never asks any questions; it just allows you to whittle your sadness away until you feel better.”

The look on your face told him that that probably wasn’t the best answer to give. “That doesn’t sound very healthy, Yoongi.”

After a hesitant pause, the onyx-haired man patted your knee in what was supposed to be consolation.

“Next time, I promise I’ll come straight to you.” He said somewhat reassuringly, lifting his other hand to stroke against your cheek. In a much smaller, unsure tone, he spoke up again. “I love you, Y/N.”

He carefully studied the way your eyes danced with pleasant surprise, before crinkling in the corners with a jubilant smile. It’d been the first time either of you had ever said the dreaded L-word around each other. Perhaps he was just scared, but deep down Yoongi had always known that he was in love with you.

Once many moons ago, Taehyung had asked him what it was like being in love, and Yoongi did nothing but raise an eyebrow at his starry-eyed friend in disbelief. Never had it crossed his mind that he was right.

“I love you too, Yoongi.” You whispered into the distance between the two of you.

You’d only been together for a few months, and Yoongi was still quite shy when it came to affection; be it physical or emotional. So it was safe to say that you were very much shocked when Yoongi tugged you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist and tipping you over slightly to slant his lips against yours sweetly.

When the two of you pulled away, you were breathless and flushed, clothes askew and hair thoroughly mussed. “Teach me how to play.” You said, threading your fingers through his fine strands of dark hair. “I want to know how the man I love carved away his fears with a piano to kiss me like that.”

A short chuckle left Yoongi, before he awkwardly trailed off to realize that you were being completely serious.

“It’d be my pleasure, my love.”

The next few hours following were filled with your severely off-key melodies and gentle grumbling, Yoongi’s sweet smiles, and both of your conjoined laughter. Eventually, you had gotten so frustrated that you were just about to call it quits before Yoongi pulled you closer, bringing your fingers to lay delicately on top of his as he played another simple tune.

“Close your eyes.” He mumbled, pink glazing over his face when you squeezed your eyelids closed without hesitation. “You’re hearing, but you’re not listening.”

Although you were a little put off playing any more, you could never say no to Yoongi.

The room was gradually growing darker as the sun drifted past the horizon, the sky a palette of diaphanous lavenders and wispy roses and vivid carmines. Long shadows stretched over the pristine floors, the two of your dark silhouettes propped up against each other.

“I think you’ve practiced enough today,” Yoongi said in an amused tone as you stretched in a feline-like manner, hiding a yawn. Timidly, he glanced at you while twiddling with his finger nails. “Do you think it was worth it?”

“Oh, Yoongi.” You rose from the piano bench and ducked down to lovingly flatten your lips against the side of his head. “Anything would be worth it if I was with you.”

Said man rolled his eyes off to one side, albeit not without clearing his throat embarrassingly, “Don’t be cheesy.” Pushing himself to his feet, he shot you a grateful smile when you laced your fingers together.

“Says you, Mr. Sad Piano Man.”

“That’s not cheesy, that’s just cliché.”

A hint of a frown crossed your face. “Oh, whatever.” It immediately disappeared when Yoongi unthreaded his fingers from yours to cradle your chin lightly, as if you were fragile. He hesitated just a millisecond longer before swooping downwards to embrace your lips with his.

Yoongi was enraptured by you; your scent, your beauty, your tantalizing smile. It was all too good to be true. “Do you really love me back?” He whispered into you.

You blinked at him with large, glistening eyes. “Why don’t I show you?”

The breath caught in his throat as you tugged at the collar of his button-down, pulling him out the music room. You tried your best to keep up the ‘sexy’ facade, but your mouth broke out into an uncontrollable smile and smothered laughs slipped through.

“I hope I’m not ruining the mood.” You bent over slightly, clutching your stomach to stave away your laughter, but somehow still managing to push him into your bedroom.

“Quite the opposite, I’m afraid.” Yoongi said, mirroring your jubilant expression. “You’re most beautiful when you’re smiling.”

Playfully shoving at his shoulder whilst the two of you clambered onto the bed, you exclaimed breathily, “Look who’s being cheesy, now!”

Yoongi hummed as he kissed you, smiling all the while. Your hair fanned out on the feather pillows, limbs tangling with his. You smelled of sweet mint tea and those glazed fruit tarts you always bought from the bakery. The smell grew to be so intoxicating to him that whenever you were out with your friends or at the farmers' market, he'd stay in bed and smother himself in your pillow that wafted with your lingering scent. He hoped that wasn't weird. Was that weird?

With his thoughts running amuck, he hadn't realized he’d spoken the next words out loud. “One day I’m going to marry you.” He blurted out suddenly, lips a pretty shade of rouge and slightly swollen from your little make out session.

Oh, shit. Had I just said that aloud? Why weren’t you saying anything? Were those… tears in your eyes?

"Okay,” You sighed out over-exaggeratedly after a long, drawn out pause. “If you must.”

It took him a while to realize that you were merely jestering, heart this close to leaping out of his ribcage to make a run for it. At his nearly mortified expression, you huffed out a laugh and brought him down for another kiss.

Almost too excitedly, you shot upwards with glee written in your eyes (knocking Yoongi’s nose with your forehead in the process). While he was rubbing his sore nose quite gingerly, you just about shrieked out as if his previous words had just hit you. Did Yoongi really just say that he wanted to marry you? The man had only confessed his love to you a few hours prior.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t like you were going to say no. Of course not. You could never say no to Yoongi.

“Does that make me Mrs. Sad Piano Man?!” With that, you leapt off the bed, rushing out of your shared room to do God knows what (most likely run off to tell the rest of your friends the news), leaving Yoongi propped up on the sinking mattress, not trying very hard to suppress the lovesick smile on his lips.

How’d he ever end up falling in love with the likes of you of all people?

473 notes · View notes

abedizm · 2 years

Text

4K WORDS HELP ME

anyways, point is, this took 4 days and a couple of breakdowns, so please enjoy this or i will cry. reading this on ao3 or the mobile app is recommended bc the site makes it all weird and wonky sob

Richard Cameron doesn't have time for love. Not really, not when he's seventeen and slaving over some stupid Latin or Chemistry homework. Not when he still has to carefully shape his future.

It's too soon for that, and whenever anyone asks him if he's looking for a girlfriend any time soon, he scoffs internally. What good would a girlfriend do for him? What good would love do him? It’s a distraction, if anything. Besides, he doesn’t have time for that, not now. Obviously.

Richard has ingrained that in his mind almost all his life, and he brought it to Welton, of course. It was easier, he supposes, since they are all boys there. Men. No women to gawk at (it’s not like he did much gawking before, anyway), and now he’s in a school that guarantees his position in an Ivy league school.

Everything was going well for Richard; his grades were well above average and his teachers were more than fond of him. They spoke well of him, never a negative word about the ginger out of their mouths. Everything was perfect. So, very perfect.

And then Charles Dalton became his roommate.

God that stupid Dalton. That privileged, rich asshole who doesn’t even have to try in school. He’s always off doing God-knows-what instead of revising or going through his notes. It’s infuriating.

He’s infuriating.

Now, normally, Richard wouldn’t even care what Dalton did in his spare time. He was away and that’s good, great, even. Until the dumbass brought his stupid antics into their room, with his stupid instruments and his stupid skills. Richard didn’t even know that Welton allowed such things in the dorms.

Privileges of being rich, he supposes.

So, Dalton became even more of a distraction. Okay, whatever, that’s fine. He has a sister at home who always bugged him whenever she could. But here’s the difference: Rosie knows when to back off, Charlie doesn’t.

It’s kind of a new low, Richard thinks, even for Charlie. To think that a child has more discipline than a teenager.

Whatever, it’s all whatever. Stupid, is what it is. As stupid as Charlie Dalton. He hates Richard now, for some stupid reason. Literally all he did was ask Charlie to quiet down because he was doing homework and next thing, he knew he was being called a bootlicker behind his back.

God, fuck Charles Dalton.

———

“I want you boys to write a poem about love,” Mr. Keating had said, and Richard distinctly remembers how he silently but-not-really cursed under his breath. No one had looked his way, and if anyone heard, he thanked the Lord above that they didn’t pay him any attention.

Love. Love. Why love of all things? Can’t it be anything else? Like the seasons? Time? Something that, a bit embarrassingly, Richard actually knows about?

Maybe Keating saw his panicked expression, maybe he’s just a weird man, but either way, he decided to give them a week to finish said poem, as long as it’s three stanzas long with four lines. (It’s most likely the latter. Not very surprising, really.)

Okay, Richard had thought, slowly breathing out to calm himself. A week. I can do this.

So that was a complete lie.

He can, in fact, not do this. Love. Love. God, why did it have to be that? It’s not that he’s… inexperienced in that area—who’s he kidding? Richard is horribly inexperienced in that area. He’s never loved before, not romantically, anyway, and he assumes that’s what Mr. Keating wants them to write about.

But is it? Probably. Mr. Keating is odd, and, unlike the other teachers, Richard can never really tell what he’s thinking. Not when his teaching style is so… unorthodox. Unpredictable.

No wonder Charlie absolutely adores him.

Speaking of, the human embodiment of a headache just barged through the door in the middle of Richard’s panicking and pacing. He’s playing a recorder, quite horribly, might I add, and where he got it, Richard doesn’t know. Richard could care less about that now. Not when that stupid poem is due in four days.

Essay writing is so much easier.

“What’s got you in a shit mood?” There’s always a small part of Richard that thinks there’s the slightest chance that he and Dalton could be friends. A small part that thinks that Dalton cares. “A teacher look at you wrong? God, I hope they did. You probably deserved it, fucking bootlicker.” And then he goes and says shit like that. It’s not even behind his back anymore. There’s not even a lick of shame in Dalton. The asshole.

“None of your business,” Richard spits back, and he silently revels in the way Dalton looks slightly taken aback. “Not like you would understand.”

“Try me,” Dalton challenges, and Richard desperately wants to wipe the smug look off his face.

“I’m actually trying to do my homework.” Richard fixes his posture, instead of slouched over and panicking he now appears to be taller, bigger, even, and composed. He is far from composed, but no one needs to know that. He doesn’t dare turn his nose up. “Actually trying to do good in school. Not like you would know.”

“Oh, fuck you!” his roommate hisses, stomping forward (like a child, Richard notes,) and getting in the ginger’s face. “You are so annoying; did you know that?”

“Yeah, no shit! You keep reminding me every single day!”

“Well sorry that I’m telling the truth! God, you’re such a stiff! No wonder nobody—!”

Richard isn’t really sure what happened next. One moment Charlie was screaming at him, the next their lips were pressed together, their eyes clenched shut and some tears falling down their faces. Or is it just Richard’s? It doesn’t matter, not when Richard’s heart feels like escaping his chest.

And he wants to. Richard wants to let it escape and grant it freedom, because it hurts. It hurts so much and he can’t take it anymore. So, he presses himself against Charlie even more and lets the tears flow freely. His chest still feels tight, but empty all the same. Richard doesn’t understand, he can’t understand. Does he want to? Maybe, probably. But does it matter? Does it matter when Richard feels like he’s falling and soaring all at the same time?

And the kiss; the kiss feels majestic when it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t feel as good as it is to Richard. But it does, and it’s beautiful and it burns. It burns the way the sun burns its way through a forest, it burns the way the sun burned Icarus’ wings. The kiss burns, and it melts him, and he knows it’s dangerous but it’s so wonderful that he can’t—couldn’t—wouldn’t stop.

But, no. Wait, no. What’s happening? Is this real? It can’t be, it’s too fast, too quick, too wrong.

“What?!” Dalton shouts, and Richard blinks back to reality. Harsh, harsh reality. “Cat got your tongue? God, finally—.”

Richard pushes past the brunet, fetching his coat on his way out. Charlie stands in the middle of their room, slightly stunned, before shaking his head, rolling his eyes, and throws himself on his bed.

———

Richard Cameron believes that love happens to other people. It happened to his parents, it happened to his friend, Neil, and his roommate, Todd, it happened to Knox with Chris. He never believed that it would happen to him. He’s always pushed it to the back of his mind, because it’s stupid and pointless and it sucks. He’s seen what it’s done to Knox, and he really doesn’t want that to happen to him.

Not yet, not now.

But then what was that back there? That was… that was something, wasn’t it? It was definitely something. Something that wasn’t right. Not for Richard.

He’s surprised, of course. He’s never had thoughts like that before. Not even about women. Then his–his stupid roommate comes and messes his brain up and now it’s all weird and wrong. It’s all wrong.

But is it really? Is it all really wrong? His heart sure as hell doesn’t think so. Richard doesn’t think it’s ceased its rapid beating.

It’s starting to become quite annoying, actually. His heart, his brain, school, rooms, boys. It’s all becoming annoying. Richard doesn’t want it to be, but it is, and it does.

He can’t even look Dalton in the eye anymore. Not when his heart feels like a volcano, searing hot and ready to erupt at any given moment when their eyes meet.

It didn’t do that before.

Richard wants to scream. He wants to scream and cry and punch something, anything. Dalton. He wants to punch Dalton. He wants to kiss Dalton. He wants to kick Dalton. He wants to cherish Dalton. He wants to pluck Dalton’s eyes out. He wants to cherish them forever. Dalton. It’s all because of Dalton.

He hates Dalton. He likes Dalton.

He likes Dalton.

It’s not like Richard hated him before. He never really hated Charlie. He thought he was bearable at first. Then the teasing started—out of nowhere—and he couldn’t help but give in and dislike him at least a little bit. If Charlie was going to be a pain in the ass, might as well play the role of the pissed off roommate.

Three days had passed since the whole thing. Richard is just completely avoiding Charlie, and his roommate seemed to be a bit confused. Not like he cares. He shouldn’t care. It’s annoying that he does, though.

Charlie shouldn’t be confused. He should be happy that Richard’s going out of his way to not bother him anymore.

Whatever. At least he’s written his stupid poem about love and it sounded stupid which is why he wrote two versions of the stupid fucking poem for the stupid fucking class.

God, everything is stupid these days. It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter either. It probably should, but it doesn’t. Not now, and probably not ever.

Charlie doesn’t like him anyway. Obviously.

---

The poem was finally done and dealt with. Richard read it out in class and nobody was none the wiser. Everyone thought it was about some girl in his hometown. It probably was, or he probably just made someone up in his mind and went along with it. Whatever, it’s done and Richard couldn’t be happier.

But, of course, that glee is short-lived.

The first thing Richard had noticed when he opened the door to his room was that it was quiet. Unbelievably quiet. The ginger knew that Charlie retreated to their room earlier than usual, which, on its own, is odd enough. The tranquil silence is what makes it all more suspicious.

Then he noticed Charlie’s coat, carelessly thrown on his chair. He sighed, picked it up, and hung it on the coat hanger behind the door.

The last thing Richard noticed before Charlie himself was the notebook on his desk, opened to a page that he knew contained the poem that came from his heart. His head had darted to Charlie’s bed, then, eyes wide and mouth ajar. The brunet was holding a piece of paper, no doubt Richard’s, legs crossed and all.

“Gi–give that back!” he screams, more surprised and afraid than angry. “Charlie!” He surges forward and reaches for the paper, but Charlie is already standing up on his bed, arm stretched above their heads.

“What’s this then, Dick?” There’s that stupidly attractive smirk on his face again, and Richard can feel his face heat up and his heart do the–the fucking thing. “Is this a love poem?”

“Give it back, Charlie!” Richard tries once more, and he thinks that there’s a crack in his voice, but he swallows it down and glares at Charlie. “Give it back!”

“Come on Dick,” Charlie taunts, pushing the ginger’s face with his other hand. Richard wonders if the brunet can feel it heating up. “Who’s it about?” Richard sputters, pushing Charlie’s hand away from his face and jumps in a hopeless attempt to get the piece of paper back. “Is it about yours truly? “Eyes like the sun, bright, wonderful, and dangerous”? Didn’t know you had a single poetic bone in you, Dick. But wow, it sure does sound like this is about me–!” Richard kicks the back of Charlie’s knee, and that was apparently enough to send him tumbling down. He scrambles to take the piece of paper and retreats to his side of the room.

“Of course it’s not about you,” he hisses, and regrets it immediately. Charlie had sat up by then, his face falling for a fraction of a second before covering it up with the typical cockiness he always has. Richard saw through it, of course, but didn’t think anything of it. “Wh—you know what? Fuck you. It’s none of your business anyway.”

Richard goes to sleep that night with the image of Charlie’s crestfallen expression burned beneath his eyelids.

Charlie seemed to be more distant after that. Which should be fine, right? Great, even, amazing! But it isn’t, and it irritates Richard more than it should. Because now, now he’s looking at Charlie more. Glancing in his direction when the brunet is turned away, sometimes even full-on staring at him with no shame.

Okay, maybe a little bit of shame. And it really needs to stop.

But Richard’s fine just looking from afar. Really, really fine. It hurts, of course, how there’s barely any interaction between them now, but it’s fine. It’s great, it’s wonderful.

It hurts.

His heart hurts, and his eyes hurt and everything hurts because now Charlie brought girls to the cave and now, he’s reciting Shakespeare’s sonnets to them and wooing them and they’re all over him and it hurts so bad.

Richard looks away and takes a deep breath.

They’re passing a bottle of whiskey now, and Charlie—apologies, Nuwanda just admitted to doing something so incredibly stupid. And he has those girls just backing him up because they don’t know how shitty their school system works and what the punishment usually is. Now Richard’s filled with worry and the bottle of whiskey is in his hand.

He chugs a far-from-reasonable amount. Anything to get rid of the growing headache and (unreasonable) worry. It’s Charlie, he can handle himself. At least he acknowledged Richard’s existence.

This all seems pathetic now.

Richard decided to stay behind, despite being drunk out of his mind. He didn’t let it show, and he still doesn’t know if they actually bought the act or just didn’t care enough to double check if he was okay or not. Makes sense, though, doesn’t it? He’s Richard Cameron, Welton’s biggest bootlicker. It’d be a huge thing if he was found drunk in this goddamn cave.

He’s freezing, but maybe that’s because he tossed his sweater to the side and is just wearing a thin shirt and his coat. But that’s because it was hot earlier, and it all doesn’t make sense because it’s also hot now, but if he takes his coat off, he’ll be colder but if it’s on everything gets hotter—

God, he really needs to go back. But he can’t, not on his own. He has tried to stand up, but he almost slipped, and he doesn’t really want to die in this stupid cave. He might die in the cave anyway because of, well, hypothermia and all.

So, Richard lay there, staring up at the swirling ceiling, his own thoughts and the crickets outside being his only company. What a way to die.

Then there’s a voice, and Richard can’t tell if it’s real or not because isn’t being delirious out of his mind one of the signs that he is dying? He doesn’t know, and he can’t really afford to care. Not when it’s Charlie’s voice he’s hearing. Charlie can’t have come back here for Richard. Charlie hates Richard. Richard likes Charlie. It’s pathetic. Richard is pathetic. This whole thing is pathetic. What’s pathetic?

“Cameron?” definitely-not-real-Charlie speaks up, and it takes every bone Richard’s body for his head to turn. “Jesus Christ, you look disgusting.” So, his subconscious is telling him he’s ugly now? He’s always had a feeling, but wow.

Richard mumbles something, he doesn’t know what, can’t really tell when there’s a ringing in your ear now. Did he move? Probably. The world’s spinning again, eugh.

“Cam!” not-real-Charlie exclaims, and then there are arms around his waist, steadying him. “Jesus, you’re really drunk!”

“You know, Charlie,” he manages to blurt out and actually hear, wrapping his arms around the brunet’s shoulders. “You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. It sucks that you’re sooooo pretty.”

“What?” Charlie sputters, and Richard grins. “Cam, we really need to get you to bed. You’re freezing!”

“You talk a lot too!” he continues, placing all his weight on the taller boy. “God, as much as I love hearing you talk—” he hiccups— “there really are other things you can do. With that–that mouth, I mean. You know?”

“Like what?” At least not-real-Charlie is playing along now, adjusting Richard in his arms as the ginger leans forward. “Cam, we need to go ba–.” Richard presses his lips on Charlie’s. At least that shut him up.

“God, I wish you were real,” Richard mumbles after he pulls away, placing his head on the stunned brunet’s. “At least I can tell you that the poem is about you. And that I really, really like you. But nooooo, I’m dying in this stupid cave.”

“You’re not dying, Richard,” Charlie sighs, picking up the ginger. “Come on, let’s get you back to our room. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” But Richard’s already passed out, breathing short and shallow. “Oh shit.”

Richard wakes up with the worst headache he’s ever had.

He squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his palms against it, letting out a low groan. It all still seems too bright and–is there a rag on his forehead? Richard grunts, blindly swatting around his head until he feels the damp cloth. He rolls around, now laying on his belly, burying his head in the pillows.

The sound of the door opening is distant, and he’s too tired to care.

“Sleep well?” someone speaks, and he grunts in reply. “Cam, sit up. You have to drink water.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles, before remembering himself. Richard sits up with a start, immediately regretting it as his vision goes dark and the headache worsens. “Jesus Christ.”

Charlie chuckles, assisting Richard before sitting down beside the ginger and handing him a glass of water and some pills. Richard looks at him curiously. “For the hangover,” he simply says, and Richard nods.

“Thanks.” They sit there in an awkward silence, Charlie unusually close to Richard. The ginger’s leg starts to shake, and he finally glances at the brunet. His eyes widen slightly. “You look like shit.” That makes Charlie bark out a laugh, leaning on his arms and throwing his head back. Richard takes note of how wonderful he looks despite the blotchiness of his cheeks and the dried tears.

“Yeah, no shit,” he responds after calming down, turning his head to look at Richard. He snorts, “Speak for yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Richard mutters half-heartedly, turning red and looking away. The silence is comfortable now, and Richard watches the dust particles float around in the sunlight.

“Hey…” Charlie starts, softly, and he hums. “About last night…”

Last night? What happened last night? Richard tilts his head, rubbing his foot on his leg as he tries to remember. Girls, Nuwanda, whiskey, getting drunk, apparently? And… getting left in the cave… and…

Oh no. Oh fuck no. He did not do that.

“Charlie, look, I—.”

“You are so confusing, Rich,” Charlie interrupts him, a slight shake in his voice. Richard purses his lips. “It’s–one moment, you’re telling me to fuck off, and the next you’re making sure I’m not hurt. You hate me, then you look at me like I’m–I’m–God, I don’t know. You’re just—what do you want from me?”

Richard expected anything but that. His face feels hotter, but his chest feels empty, and something horrible is stirring in his stomach. He gulps it down. “Look,” he chokes out, and his eyes burn with tears, “I’m–I don’t know either, Charlie.”

“Oh,” Charlie mumbles, shuffling away, and if Richard heart breaks, well, no one had to know.

“But I don’t… I don’t hate you,” Richard continues, and he dares to reach out and place his hand on top of Charlie’s. “I never hated you, Charlie. Hell, I thought you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Charlie whispers, carefully lacing their fingers together. If it’s possible, Richard flushes even more. He squeezes them slightly. “You’re just… unbearable at times.”

“So are you,” Richard chuckles, brushing his thumb over Charlie’s knuckle. “I really like you,” he says, because he has to before he overthinks it and doesn’t do it. He has to, because if not now, when?

“I really like you, too.” Charlie shuffles closer, and Richard tries to ignore the way his heart soars and settles on his throat. “A lot.”

“A lot,” Richard repeats softly, because it’s oddly silent now, despite the fact that he can hear his heart in his ears. It’s silent, and it’s peaceful, and it’s such a rare thing in their room that he doesn’t want to ruin it. He doesn’t want to ruin this. He can’t. “You like me,” he breathes out, rather shakily, a smile slowly creeping up his face.

“And you like me,” Charlie says, and he stops for a moment, eyes darting downwards before up again, thinking. Shocking for Charles Dalton. He moves even closer, close enough that Richard can feel his breathing and see the redness of his eyes. “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Richard mumbles, lightly thumping his forehead on Charlie’s. “What now, Char?”

“Well,” the brunet whispers, bringing their conjoined hands up. “Richard Cameron, will you be my boyfriend?”

“Guess,” he chuckles with a grin, pulling Charlie closer until their lips were a hair apart. “I want you to guess my answer, Charles Dalton.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he chuckles, and Richard almost sighs in content at the feeling of his lips moving despite not being pressed against his.

“This okay?” Richard asks, looking into Charlie’s eyes and searching for—well, he doesn’t know either. He gulps, and Richard quite likes the fact that he can hear it clearly. Charlie nods.

It doesn’t burn Richard, the kiss, but it’s still terrifying how real this all is. Charlie is pressed against Richard, comfortable and at ease, and Richard is pressed against Charlie, comfortable but afraid. What if it all stops? What if this is all a dream? It might be, considering how drunk he was last night and how it’s all still hazy. But Charlie’s here, and his hands are on his cheeks, and his lips are on his, and they’re sharing the same breath and it’s all sublime.

His head is spinning, and his heart is full and his stomach is fluttering and he’s here and so is Charlie and they’re kissing and they like each other. Because it’s not love, at least Richard doesn’t think it is. Not now, not yet. Soon, maybe. Probably. Most likely.

Then there’s a hand crawling up his shirt, so he pulls away slightly, and says, amusement in his voice, “Charlie.” Charlie hums, thumb brushing his waist. “I get that hormones exist, but not now, not yet.”

“I know,” Charlie mumbles against his neck, because apparently, he situated himself there the moment Richard had stopped kissing him. “Jus’ wanted to touch you. Always have.”

“Ah,” Richard says. “Okay.”

There’s a part of Richard that still believes that love happens to other people. It just never seemed to be for him exactly, seeing as he was never really interested. Maybe it’s because no one was really ever that interesting, or no one really tried to be interesting.

Charlie’s effortlessly interesting, it appears. Everything about him seems to be effortless, really. His confidence, his beauty, his love.

Their love.

Richard watches as Charlie talks about everything and nothing, head on the ginger’s lap and hand gesturing wildly. Richard combs through the brunet’s hair with a fond smile on his face. This is alright, wonderful, even, really. Everything seems brighter with him.

Yeah, their love.

#crow goes insane (real!!)#dps #dead gay society am i right or am i right #dead poets society #chameron #charlie dalton #richard cameron #writing #writing (mine)#i love writing cameron having a crisis #very long fic help #chameron fic #dps fic

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

Text

you got a fetish for my love, i push you out and you come right back

summary: the softest man in the world is in love

warnings: nick is a warning. how dare he. smut. smoking (but we’re trying to get him to stop). some of that daddy shit bc ugh, that beard.

word count: around 5,320

pairing: nick vaughan x reader

a/n: let me tell you, it is weird writing nick one second, the softest, sweetest man, and then switching over to ransom, aka satan.

“You shouldn’t be smoking.”

The man with his back to you turned around, arching an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

You brought your hands up to your waist, looking as confident as you could possibly make yourself look. You didn’t have a mirror on you, but you would bet it wasn’t very convincing. “Um, second-hand smoke. Third-hand smoke. Not to mention what it could do to you.”

Moving closer, he took another brief drag. “And what’s that?”

You huffed. Really? You were going to reach way back into your 8th-grade health class memories for that. “Lung disease, it can cause cancer, like, everywhere, heart disease—”

“But you’re already taking care of my heart, angel.”

You fell silent at that, frowning.

He continued to close the gap between you. “What else?”

“It’s bad for your skin,” you asserted, tone firm despite how close he was getting. “Causes wrinkles.”

“That so?”

You nodded, refusing to step back as he stopped mere inches before you. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re my father.”

He smirked, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stepping on it with the toe of his boot. Boots that were far too expensive to be stepping on cigarettes with. Hell, he shouldn’t even have been outside with them. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

Your gaze moved off to the side and finally, you stepped away to create some distance. ‘You said you were going to stop, Nick.”

“I know, I’m trying.”

“Try harder. I’m being serious, okay? People die—”

He moved back in front of you and took your chin in his hand, forcing your gaze up to his. “I’m working on it.”

“If you really care about me, you’ll stop.”

“I’m gonna stop,” he promised. “Soon. Come on, don’t give me those eyes.”

He loved your eyes. He had to have told you about a hundred times by now, claimed he liked the innocence in them that never seemed to die out. No matter how many times he took you up to his hotel room and fucked you in every filthy way he could think of. Sure, it was pretty sick sometimes, but he always touched you so softly, whispered the sweetest things to you, and held you afterward.

Your eyes could make him do just about anything, he would often declare. Except, apparently, stop smoking.

“Come on, I’m sorry.”

You crossed your arms, pulling out of his hold. “You’re only sorry you got caught.”

“No, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“And don’t be sorry to just me, be sorry to yourself. I think you need healthy lungs for your music career, right?”

He lifted his eyebrows, still amused at how serious you were being. No one in New York took smoking seriously.

“Also, you ever stop and think about what would happen to me if you weren’t here?” That was a little on the sneaky side. You knew that there was the overall scenario of you being lonely, but he would soon start to think about how that would mean you would be with other people.

He scoffed, feigning calmness. “No, I don’t. I don’t want you to, either.”

You didn’t need to hear it, you knew he could connect the dots. “You are forcing me to.”

“Angel, what’s all this about?” he wondered. “Why are you being such a brat?”

“I’m not being a brat,” you immediately protested. Even though you knew he didn’t mind, there was just something in you that twisted at the thought of being bratty. You were not trying to be argumentative even, you were just worried.

“You want daddy to spank you?”

You looked around with wide eyes. Not that anyone in New York had the time or interest to listen to anyone else’s conversations, but still, this was private. “Nick.”

He tsked. “Nick?”

You sighed, casting a look around. “There are too many people here.”

He chuckled. “No one’s listening, angel.”

“I’m not being bratty,” you muttered. “I’m just concerned about you. Since when is that a crime?”

He smiled, reaching his hand out for you. You didn’t waste any time nearly wrapping your entire body around his arm. “What do you want?”

You were not getting away this time, he was also in a mood. Evidently, since he usually spoiled you to the point of letting you get away with “misbehaving” if you apologized or feigned discomfort.

“Take me upstairs, daddy.” It was hardly above a whisper, but it thrilled him to no end that he’d managed to get you to call him that outside of the absolute comfort of the bedroom.

Nick liked you feeling safe with him. He’d never met a more trusting soul, someone almost naive. However, it had taken him a long fucking time to get that sincere trust from you. He picked up on the body language, the things you wouldn’t say. That was why he could give the date for the night you finally let him fuck you with the lights on, the night you finally stayed with him until morning, the night you finally gave him your number because he had convinced you to sneak away from your dad to meet him at the hotel and you had to get back home but you still wanted to talk to him. He could give the date for the first morning you woke up and put on one of his shirts, the morning you let him eat you out for the first time, the morning you let him fuck you against the hotel window.

He wrapped his arms around you and started to lead you inside. It had been almost a year now and you were obsessed with Nick. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and he was kind and gentle, but also passionate and sometimes a little rough when he knew you wanted him to be. It was never mindless, hard fucking. Even when he made it hurt, he held you so close, so tight, his eyes would remain on yours the whole time. He would wipe away your tears and continue bucking his hips. He would whisper to you, coo at you, and make you fall apart until you were so exhausted you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

You were pretty sure you were in love with him. He would be the first. Sure, there was your first boyfriend who you had wanted to be your first for everything. He’d given you a promise ring and told you that he wanted to wait until you were his wife. That one didn’t end well. Your third boyfriend, you thought that one was real. You’d had sex with him, and then he completely disappeared. To this day, you had no idea where he was. But you knew now, those things you’d felt for them, they were so small, so weak. What you felt for Nick was consuming, you felt like every inch of you belonged to him, like you were made for him.

In the elevator, with an elderly couple, an older man, and a party of four younger women that looked like they were on their way to a club, Nick had his lips to your ear. “Angel, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re crying. You know I love those sounds you make and the look you give me when you just can’t take anymore. When your beautiful, little cunt is used and aching and dripping with my cum. But that’s only after I have you on the bed, wet, squirming, begging daddy to make you feel good.”

You felt like you were on fire. If anyone heard, you would be mortified, you would never be able to leave your house again. Things like this were supposed to be private, between the people who were doing it. Nick had the audacity to make some of it almost public. You would admit that there was the tiniest bit of thrill, but most of it was fear and panic.

He touched the side of your face and you startled a little, one of your hands coming up to settle over his forearm. “Jesus, you’re beautiful and so fucking…innocent.”

You were not innocent. You weren’t even sure what he meant by that. Ever. When he said it, you were confused each time.

“The thought of your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock, trying to take all you can because you’re so good to me, those eyes staring up at me…”

You swallowed thickly, eyes moving to the elevator buttons. How many more god damn floors were there? The elevator stopped again seconds later, and the elderly couple got out. Fewer people but you still didn’t feel any less nervous.

“Afterward, your sweet, tight pussy will be dripping. You know how wet you get after you suck my cock.”

Embarrassingly wet. He was fascinated the first time you’d done it, then he laid you out on the bed and when he made the discovery, he ate you out until you could barely remember what year it was.

“Then I’m gonna have you on top of me, angel. You’re so good at it, I swear you were made just to ride my cock. Remember what you were begging me for last time?”

You remembered and instantly felt your skin burning all over again.

“Maybe I’ll fuck your—”

The elevator stopped on your floor and you rushed out. The group of girls was also getting out, creating some time for you to get away from Nick and breathe. He was always intense, and he never stopped pushing you. You didn’t necessarily hate it. Really, you knew you liked it, but you could never admit that to him, his behavior would just get worse.

He found you with your back pressed against the door, waiting patiently for him. He’d been staying here for several months; he had the same room because he’d wanted to give you a key. For emergencies, he claimed. If you ever needed a place to get away, even if he wasn’t home. It had only happened a few times, he wouldn’t say a word when he would find you bundled up in his bed. He would just join you under the sheets and make you come several times, at least.

He set his hands on your hips and you looked up to him. “What’s on your mind tonight?”

You woke up that morning just knowing. You were in love with Nick and you were terrified. You didn’t want to be in love, not with him. With his music career taking off, he couldn’t want something serious. You figured this was just him wasting time. When he was an established name, he would go out and find himself a proper partner. It wasn’t you, this shy, small thing with no backbone, terrible parents, and no solid plans for your future.

But why ruin a good thing? You wanted to let it last while you could. You smiled at him and shook your head. “Nothing, really. I missed you.”

He smiled back. “I missed you, too.”

You didn’t live in New York with your father, but you had been visiting a lot more frequently. Your father was thrilled about it, thrilled enough not to want to question it. Your mother took it as an insult and didn’t ask a single question about why. It was honestly the perfect crime.

It had only been three weeks since you’d last been with Nick, you were allowing for less time to pass in between the nights you spent with him. You once went a month and a half, how unimaginable that felt—you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. You would go crazy without him being able to touch you for six weeks.

“You could stay,” he pointed out. “Here. With me.”

You scoffed. “No, I can’t.”

“You could apply to NYU, I’m sure you’ll get in. You could start building your life over here. If not with me, why not live with your dad?”

This was getting serious and you were worried this conversation would wreck everything. Nick thought he wanted something, but only because he was scared. You didn’t want to uproot your entire life for something fleeting.

“I don’t want to talk about this tonight,” you said quietly.

“Okay. But we will. Later.”

You nodded—a lie. You wouldn’t even be with him much longer. You had breakfast you’re your dad and then you would be on a flight back to your mother’s. “Yeah.”

Smiling, he asked, “Well, what do you want to talk about?”

You shrugged. “I don’t want to talk.”

He hummed. “No? You don’t have more scolding to do?”

“I can wait,” you teased. Your eyes flit to either side just to make sure no one was around. “But right now, I just want you to touch me.”

He bent down just slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You eagerly wrapped yourself around him and pressed your lips to his, kissing him like it’d been years.

He struggled to open the door, but you didn’t seem to mind that you could get caught at any moment, you seemed completely distracted by him. That was his goal, make your time here so good that eventually, you just wouldn’t be able to leave him.

Finally, he managed to get you inside the room. You had it all memorized, even with your eyes closed you knew exactly where he always was. He was leading you down the hallway, past the kitchen and the living area, to the door at the end of the walkway. Past the bathroom, past the dresser full of sheet music and records.

He laid you out on the bed delicately, pulling away so he could stare at you. You moved to pull your skirt up, but he caught your hands in his. “Not yet.”

He started at your feet. He pulled off your shoes and began kissing your calves, a touch that felt so distant through your tights.

You whined. “Daddy.”

“You’re going to be patient, angel.”

And that was that. You never argued with him, rarely disobeyed. You were perfect, you were good. You were, as he so fondly called you, an angel that did everything she was supposed to do. Not just for him, but for everyone. He knew that about you, knew that you never liked to make trouble for anyone. Even your dad, who had been almost completely absent during your childhood, off chasing his current wife. Even your mother, who was mean, unsupportive, and childish. You were sweet as could be, well-behaved, soft-spoken, bright-eyed, and glowing. He thought you were perfect.

Biting your lip, paying close attention to how much you were moving, you watched in near silence as he continued to press his lips up your legs. As soon as his eyes flickered up to yours, your heart was pounding. There was a lot about Nick that you just didn’t understand.

You could look at yourself in the mirror and understand why people thought you were pretty, but of course, you did not think as highly of yourself as Nick thought of you. Alternatively, he could not do the same. He could not understand why you liked looking at him in the mornings, why you liked to trace his features with your fingers, why you spent so much time just kissing his face whenever you got the chance. You were baffled that he could look like that and not know what he did to people.

He blushed a lot. When you accidentally told him, the first time, that you thought he was beautiful—never again would you drink wine with him—and now, all the deliberate times after that. Because unintentional or not, you meant it and you wanted him to know. When you would take him in your mouth and he had his hands at his sides, leaving you to control everything, and when you took so much of him that you would gag and choke, he was permanently flushed. When he played for you, forget it.

He was at the hemline of your skirt and started pushing it up, kissing at the insides of your thighs. You bit down harder on your lip as he continued up, up, up until he kissed your pussy. Over tights and your panties, it was still good enough that you shuddered. You could feel his beard, some random hairs managing to poke into the open spots of your tights. It was a feeling that reminded you of being home, not with either of your parents now, but when they were still together in your first home. Nick was comfort and security, he was warmth and so much raw emotion.

You brought one hand up to press your fingers to your lips. You were so wet that you could feel the material against you was damp. He always knew how to do that to you, how to get you so wanting. And the neighbors always knew when you were there, they would play music because you were so embarrassingly loud, not that he was ever considerate about that. You just wanted to pretend you had some dignity, at least for a while.

He kissed across your thigh and up the side of your hip, back across until he could kiss down the opposite side. You remembered you used to hate when he would do this, when there wasn’t a part of you that he wouldn’t at least devote a moment of attention to. You didn’t hate it now, you noticed it made you a lot more confident. You didn’t care how tight a skirt was around your hips or that a skirt was so short that everyone could see your thighs touching. It wasn’t even his goal and it wasn’t dependent on his interest in you at all, but you knew he was the cause.

You often wondered if he looked at everyone like this. It really hadn’t been long, but sometimes you swore he might feel the same about you. You’d always wrote it off as your age, but how would someone his age honestly fall in love with you? And if he wasn’t, why the hell did he look at you the way he did?

“How many lives have you ruined?”

His eyebrows rose and he pulled his mouth away from you. “I’m sorry?”

“You look at me like that, you kiss me like that—”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. The last thing you wanted to do was accuse him of acting or pretending. That was one of the few boundary lines with Nick that was quickly established—he didn’t like analysis of his emotions. They were his own and he didn’t want anyone to presume that they knew them better than him. You truly didn’t mind. You’d come from a toxic environment of men who would sooner die than cry and couldn’t healthily express their anger if the world depended on it. “You know like what.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.” He leaned back down, kissing either knee once. “But I won’t make you, I want you to want to say it.”

First time he’d ever taken that route. He teased you a lot, like challenging your views. And he liked those rare times you could challenge his. You’d both talked and talked until you managed to get to this place where you were both completely comfortable with what you were. He had to compromise on how casual this could seem at times, and you had to compromise on how obscenely intimate it was to you sometimes. And though you both compromised, it was still hard to see the other’s point of view. What was he so scared of with ‘casual’? You, on the other hand, dreaded falling for someone who couldn’t reciprocate.

He reached for your tights and slowly pulled them down. Again, he moved to where he was exposing skin and scattered kisses all over you. He deliberately got as close to your pussy as he could without ever touching you, several times, and enjoyed that you gasped and shivered each time.

He didn’t pull your underwear out of his way before he finally kissed you there. He went on like this, curious to see just how much you could take. You tried not to ask for more, to feed into his ego, and you succeeded for several minutes. You could feel his tongue and his lips, the texture of your panties was slight stimulation, but as time went on, you craved him more.

When you finally broke, your eyes were filled with tears, your hands were shaking as you reached for him, and you couldn’t form a single coherent word. Instead of pulling your panties down and eating your pussy, he moved up your body and removed your sweater and your bra. Again, he was kissing you all over, but you could hardly focus on anything other than your throbbing pussy.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered.

He moved his mouth up until he could kiss your lips. He settled down on the bed beside you and pulled away, sitting you up a little. You took his cue and shifted up on the bed until you could rest on the headboard.

You watched as his hand reached for you, holding your breath until he was sliding one finger into you. “Fuck, daddy.” Your hips bucked almost immediately, silently begging for more. He added a second finger and you turned to hide your face against his chest.

He curled his fingers slowly, focusing on the sounds you made, the way your body would tense and shudder, and soon enough, he’d found that blissful spot that he knew made you see stars.

You clumsily reached for his pants, taking far too long to get your hands on his thick cock. You felt yourself get so much wetter, remembering just how big he felt inside you. Not that you were experienced when he’d found you, but taking his cock had been so delightfully painful and you kind of liked that he was the first man really stretching you out like that.

“Fuck,” he breathed against the side of your face. “Watch my fingers, angel, watch me fuck you with them.”

You turned down, paying attention to how they moved, and the wet sounds from your pussy. You slowly moved your hand along his cock, wanting—but too shy to ask for—him to cover your body with his cum. He preferred finishing inside you, he liked letting it drip out of you and then filling you back up all over again.

When your breaths turned shorter and your moans became louder, he knew you were so close. He moved his fingers faster, brought his thumb down to your clit. Your whole body was shaking, and he could feel how desperate you were because your hand around him tightened.

“You wanna come, angel?”

“Please, daddy,” you blurted out. “Please, please make me come.”

He pulled your hand off his cock and kissed you when you made a noise of protest. His opposite hand never even faltered as he explained, “Daddy’s coming inside you. Keep begging.”

“Please, I want to come, daddy. I want to come on your fingers, I want you to get me wet enough so my tight, little pussy can take your huge cock.”

“What a filthy mouth, angel. Where’d you learn to talk like that? Been watching the videos I’ve been sending you?”

“Yes, daddy. I watch every single one and I touch myself, thinking about how much I miss you inside me.”

“You have no idea how much I miss having your pussy wrapped around me when you’re gone.”

You finished with a sharp cry, using your free hand to try to push his touch away, but he was so much stronger than you. Add to the fact that you really didn’t want him to stop, if you could stay there in bed with him, feeling that for the rest of your life, you would.

You almost instantly rolled over on top of him, kissing him as you moved up his body until you were straddling him. He set his hands on your hips, holding you steady as you slid down on him. As you adjusted, he let his hands wander to your breasts. You were still shaking, panting, trying to come down from your high but you were addicted to pleasing Nick.

You rolled your hips, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to see him naked, coming here without seeing all of him would be an absolute waste. He helped you get the shirt off after a moment and your hands roamed all over his torso.

He took your hips again, using his hold on you to pick up the pace just a little. You let your head fall back, he would want to watch your body anyway. You brought your arms back and rested your hands on the mattress around his legs. He had to fuck you just a little harder from this angle to see your breasts move with every thrust, but you were okay with that.

You always knew when he was close because his fingers would dig into your skin and he always did everything he could to get as close to you as he possibly could. This time, he sat up and pulled you up so your chest was flush against his. You continued bouncing up and down on his cock, mewling and whimpering because you knew he loved those sounds.

“Are you close, daddy?”

“Yeah, angel, keep going just like that.”

“Tell me when you’re really close.”

He faltered for just a second, processing your odd request, but did not argue.

You set your hands to his face, dragging him in for a kiss, open-mouthed, tongues, moaning obscenely for one another. As he was distracted, you unwound his arms from your back and held them flat on the mattress by his forearms.

“I’m close,” he informed after turning his head just slightly, breathing heavily on your skin. “I’m so fucking close.”

You started moving quickly, pulling off of him and crawling back down the bed. He was stunned silent until you bent down and took his wet cock, messy from your pussy, in your mouth. You’d only just closed your lips around him when both of his hands settled on the back of your head to hold you down. He only needed to jerk his hips up a few times before he was filling your mouth.

He kept you there until his high had drifted away, and you never once complained. You swallowed the cum that you could, but some of his had slipped out of your mouth, and sucked softly until he let you up.

As soon as you were sitting up, he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on top of him. Still trying to catch his breath, it was clear that he wasn’t letting you go for quite some time. Because no one would expect Nick to want to cuddle after sex.

And because his brain was not functioning at its best, he was simultaneously attempting to kick off his pants and pull the sheets over the two of you. But you weren’t there to be unsupportive, you simply laid on his chest and tried not to laugh.

After he’d managed it, which had to have taken about five minutes, he turned off the lamp on the bedside table and stretched over to do the same on the other side. He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “Fuck, I love you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, so all you did was lay there. He didn’t miss a beat, he just started running one of his hands through your hair and then nothing. Not another word.

Fuck.

You only woke up because Nick was moving around so much. As quiet as he tried to be and as softly as he tried to move out from under you, he always failed at it. When he realized he’d woken you up again, he froze.

You grabbed one of the pillows and yanked it over his face as you climbed out of bed. You didn’t want to have to get up because that meant that you would soon have to leave. You grabbed your phone out of your bag on the way to the bathroom, not bothering to get dressed. Nick loved seeing you walk around the room naked, and that was why you always ignored that nervous nagging feeling that told you to cover up.

“Sorry,” he called out.

You didn’t respond.

After you brushed your teeth, you opened the door. You heard him moving around the bedroom as you were performing your simple morning skincare routine. He always did that, just waited until you were done so he could get in. He liked making you watch in the mirror.

And right on cue, Nick entered the bathroom, stopping just inches behind you. You didn’t turn, you merely watched him in the mirror and waited. He wrapped his arms around you, and you noticed the single red rose he was holding. He started at your lips, letting the flower trail down, then over your nipples, and down just above your navel.

You shivered when he pulled it away, offering it to you. With a smile you were looking down to hide, you took the rose from him.

He kissed the side of your face, arms wrapping loosely around your waist He pressed one hand to your stomach, and you were reminded of how much you loved his stupid hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m sorry about what I said last night. I know it was…a lot.”

Yeah, it was. You’d built it up in your mind as some terrifying thing that you would never want to hear, especially from him, but when he said it, it just wasn’t like that. When he said it, it made you feel safe. It made you feel loved. “But did you mean it?”

“Only if you’re not going to run away.”

You finally looked up in the mirror, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I won’t.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“And maybe I love you back.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” you confirmed. “And maybe I’m even considering staying.”

He perked up at that, turning you around quickly to face him. “Tell me what I need to do or say and I will.”

You brought the rose up and set it to his lips, smirking again.

He narrowed his eyes.

All you did was shrug. “Not sure yet, but you have all day to convince me.”

“I thought you were leaving today.”

You set the rose down on the counter. “Changed my mind.”

He was beaming as he picked you up and sat you on the counter. “That means you’ve already decided to stay.”

“I never said that.”

“I’m not letting you leave. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile. “I have to go home, you know…and pack.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled. “Probably a good idea to let my mom meet my daddy.”

“Please don’t make those jokes in front of your parents.”

You snorted. “Oh, now you want to be a gentleman?”

“Always am, angel. Open your legs and I’ll prove it.” He spread your thighs wider as he got down to his knees. He pulled you to the edge of the counter and with his eyes on yours, he took your pussy with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “But this means you have to stop smoking.”

He pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you. “Now, seriously?”

You buried both hands in his hair and pulled him back in.

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#nick vaughan x reader #my writing

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