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#edgy man pulls some edgy faces
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COD men and what article of clothing of theirs they prefer to see you in.
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John Price is an elegant gentleman, he loves putting his coat over your shoulders when you're cold. He always holds it for you to help you put it on, and he adjusts the collar as his fingers gently brush against your neck. His coat is big, warm and it smells like him, and he adores the way you burrow yourself into it. During the colder months, he keeps an extra jacket in his car that he can wear if he gives you the one he had on, and if you fall asleep while you're not at home, John always gently lays his coat over you like a blanket. 
Simon “Ghost” Riley is an absolute sucker for the way you look in his hoodies, and although he never says it out loud, he gets a certain look in his eyes that speaks a thousand words in his place. They're oversized even on him, and they fit his style perfectly: black with the occasional skull/edgy design of some sorts. He especially loves it if your style is even just a little bit different from his, the contrast makes him melt. He never asks you to wear his hoodies, but he does leave them lying around in a way that is very obvious.
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish goes feral every single time he sees you in his boxers. It doesn't even have to be sexual, just the intimacy of it makes him go wild. It's something that you simply don't share with anyone else, sure, someone else might lend you their jacket, but no one else but him can lend you something as intimate as his boxers. If you also wear boxers he is more than happy to trade, if you don't, he will not so jokingly insist that his underwear is way more comfortable than whatever you're wearing.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick puts his signature cap on your head every time he isn't wearing it or he isn't on a mission. It's the most him thing he owns, and he thinks there's something incredibly intimate (and attractive) about seeing you wearing it. He's sharing with you the one thing he wears that truly feels like it represents him, and he'd love it if you did the same for him. Sometimes he helps you put it on almost reverentially, other times, he pulls the visor over your eyes and chuckles like it's the funniest thing in the world.
Alejandro Vargas loves when you wear his shirts. It's a bit of a classic, but he loves the difference between how they look on him, tight and accentuating his muscles, and how they look on you, with the neckline wide enough for small flashes of your collarbones to peek out. Wear his shirt as a dress, even just once, and he will never shut up about how much of a breathtaking sight you make. He subconsciously starts buying colours he thinks will suit you, and the wide grin he gets when he sees you in them could light up an entire city.
Rodolfo Parra prefers to give you the most comfortable, cozy clothes he owns. It can vary from a warm sweater, to comfortable joggers, to a loose T-shirt. Whatever makes you feel the most at home is immediately transferred from his wardrobe and into yours. And if you prefer it when they still smell of him, he'll either take the care of wearing them just to give them back to you, or give you a bottle of his perfume that you can spray on whenever you want to. Most of all, he has a gigantic soft spot for seeing you in an article of clothing that has sentimental value and meaning to him.
Phillip Graves loves to give you clothes that are very easily recognisable as his, like the blue button ups that he always wears. He adores seeing how comfortable you look in them while you wear them at home, maybe paired with high socks. And he adores it even more when you style them properly to wear them outside the house, in a way that makes it clear that you're happy to let everyone know who your man is. Either way, his eyes are glued to you for the whole day while you are wearing his shirts, a smug smile on his face.
König always gives you small pieces of himself, small things that remind you of him but that are subtle enough not to bring other people's attention to it. He likes that it's something only the two of you know about, something you keep for yourselves. The things he gives you always change, it could be a ring one day, then a necklace, a scarf, or even a bag. And in the privacy of your home, he adores seeing you in his mask, as he shares the intimate part of himself he never shares with anyone else.
Alex Keller literally gives you free reign over his closet. Everything that is his is yours as well, you don't even have to ask. He'll even change his outfit for the day if he sees you wearing something he was planning on putting on. When he goes shopping, he often asks you to accompany him, so that you can help him choose the pieces that you think would look best on him, and also the pieces that he knows you'll want to steal later. He also adores wearing his clothes after you've borrowed them, your smell still lingering comfortingly on them.
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golbrocklovely · 11 months
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privacy please // colby brock
A/N: me, posting more than once a month??? INCREDIBLE. i was midway thru writing "let's fall in love for tonight" when this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. part of this is inspired by a tiktok i saw of a girl talking about a time she was hooking up with a guy. i wish i could find the tiktok and share it with you all bc the moment she said what she said.... i just knew i had to include it in a fic at some point lol so shoutout to that girl. this is a short fic/blurb bc i have some other fics lined up that are gonna be full blown smut so i don't want to tucker myself out writing smut only. and if you see me using what happens in this fic in other fics.... say nothing sksks lmk what you think and i'll see you guys next time <3
prompt: you and colby just want some privacy, but the only place you can get it is in his car. || fem!reader x colby brock
trigger warning: light smut (no actual sex), cursing, making out in a car, fluff, already established relationship
word count: 1363
~~~~~~~~
"This is so ridiculous." Colby groaned, pulling away from our kiss.
I giggled, staring up at his annoyed face. "No it's not, it's kinda fun."
"How is this fun? I feel like I'm gonna pull a hamstring." He scoffed.
I sassed him, rolling my eyes. "Well, it's your fault you don't have a car big enough for your five foot eleven ass."
"I don't think I was meant to lay out horizontally in my car." He replied back, just as snarky.
"Well, blame Toyota," I sat up on my elbows, huffing. Does he think I'm comfortable in this cramped back seat? "Or better yet, Sam and Kat for wanting to have their friends over when all we want to do is fuck."
"Maybe if you weren't so loud, we could have sex in my room without everyone knowing." Colby raised an eyebrow at me daringly. I could see his bottom lip quiver as he tried to hold back a laugh.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You never seemed to have a problem with my screaming before. I'll gladly remember next time you're begging me to say your name to be quiet."
He gasped, legitimately upset. "Begging?! I don't beg."
"'C'mon baby, say my name.'" I mocked in a deep voice. "What's that sound like to you?"
"Commanding!" He barked.
"Not when you're breathy it ain't!" I jeered sarcastically.
Colby sat up quickly, pouting jokingly. He kept my legs on his lap, his hands cupping my ankles. I sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling of the car. "Are you really not enjoying this?"
He chuckled, the 'tension' in the car defusing. "I enjoy any time I get to be alone with you."
I hummed, "Good to know. I think this is kinda exciting. It feels like I'm a teenager again, sneaking around with a boyfriend my mom doesn't know about."
"Am I, like, your edgy boyfriend?" He questioned, side eyeing me.
"Oh yeah. You have tattoos, wear all black, curse, drink..." I gasped, "Oh my God, you're, like, so cool."
Colby bit his lip, staring at me intensely. "Get over here."
He grabbed my wrists lightly, pulling me up. I straddled him, a soft grunt falling from his lips as a I settled onto his lap. "Much better." He murmured.
I studied his face for a moment, taking in all the little details I could. The way his hair fell, covering his forehead. The lovely shape of his eyebrows, manicured without him trying - which was honestly the most annoying thing about him. He also had surprisingly long eyelashes for a man, something I was jealous about as well. His eyes - which of course were to die for. So blue and deep. I had stared into them so many times I had lost count. I never saw the end of them, never studied them long enough to know every intricate detail about them. I don't think there would ever be enough time to do that.
"Hi." Colby whispered, softly smiling.
A light blush came to my cheeks, "Hi."
My hands cupped his face sweetly, his eyes closing at the feeling. I gazed at his cheeks; how adorable they were. I would try my best to remind him that even though he didn't like them himself, I enjoyed his "chubby" cheeks. His dimples. Oh my GOD, his dimples. If I could, I would take a picture of every time I was able to make his dimples appear. I would fill a whole photo album of just his face smiling. And I can't forget his nose. His nose was so... masculine, in an interesting way. It fit his face perfectly. Angular with a slight point.
And then of course his lips. I've had dreams of just kissing him. Of just staring at his mouth. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to him when he talks because all I can think about is his lips and what they've done to me, and what they plan to do.
He laced his fingers through mine, finally breaking the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? You look so lost in thought."
"I'm just... looking at you." I confessed.
"You like what you see?" He mumbled.
"Love." I emphasized.
He nodded his head, his eyes filled with adoration. He rested his forehead against mine, our lips brushing. His hand slid out of mine, meeting his other on the small of my back. "You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me."
"The feeling is completely mutual." I agreed.
"Good to know...." He leaned in and pecked my lips gently, almost taking my breath away. He pushed my body into his, pressing me as closely as he could. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue slid into my mouth, a moan leaving my lips. My hips naturally grinded down onto him, his hands gripping my waist a little harder from the friction.
He moved his mouth from mine, kissing down my neck and finding the perfect spot in seconds. I lulled my head back, allowing him to attack my neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. I whimpered, my hips bucking against his. He pushed his up, grinding just against the right spot to make my breath hitch. I could feel him getting harder under me, pressing against me in the most sinful way. His hands drifted to my thighs, rubbing up and down them.
"You know..." Colby chimed in, breathlessly. "I really love these fishnets."
I uttered, in a daze. "Wha-?"
He continued his motions, causing goosebumps to form on my skin, "I really like that you wear fishnets. They look so sexy on you."
I cleared my throat, finally able to think again. "Um, thank you."
"It's too bad they just take forever to get off." He somewhat grumbled, dropping his head.
I shrugged halfheartedly. "Yeah, I guess."
"How many pairs do you have?" He asked, looking back up at me.
"Of fishnets? Like five or so." I guessed.
Colby nodded. "And how much was this pair?
"What?" I squinted at him, confused. He blinked, wanting me to continue. "Uh, they were like $25."
"Okay...." He paused, his hands resting on top of my thighs. "Remind me to pay you back."
Before I could say anything, Colby's grip tightened on the fishnets. His fingers laced through the holes in the material. He pulled his arms back, ripping the fishnets with ease. I shuttered at his action, gasping in awe, anger, and lust at seeing him tear them without any problems. Feeling them rip from my body, my skin now exposed, caused heat to rush to my sex. My underwear grew even more wet as my eyes met his dark ones.
"Colby! What the fuck?!" I yelled.
"Don't tell me you didn't like that." He grew close to my face, his voice lowering, "Don't lie to me, baby."
I stammered, trying to form words under his lustful gaze. "T-That's not the point. What are you, an animal?"
"Only with you, darling." He whispered harshly.
My breath raced as I glared into Colby's eye. He had such a devilish look to him, and while I was pissed he would rip my favorite tights, it was also extremely hot.
"Fuck, I hate you." I yanked his face forward, forcing his lips onto mine deeply. He smirked against the kiss, humming a response playfully. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him.
He pulled away, catching his breath at my expense. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can't exactly get on top of you."
"If you have to fuck me in the trunk, then so be it. I just need you to do it now." I gripped his shirt, wanting it off his body.
He laughed darkly. "I don't know... you're demanding a lot for someone that's very breathy."
"Colby, don't fucking tease me." I grabbed his hand, sliding it into my underwear and putting his fingers against my heat. I breathed, "I'm so wet for you."
He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "Okay... I think we can manage something."
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London calling
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Summary; Price is invited to a military event, you're his plus one. A night of socialising and teasing leads to a hot night back at the hotel.
Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)
Rating: Explicit
CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 
Word; 12.5k
Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), SMUT (18+ mdni), oral (m-receving), dirty talk, p-in-v, d/s themes, unprotected sex, captain!kink
Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​
A/N: Where's the nearest wall I can bang my head against? I need this man so bad and that's why you get 12k upon my return💀😭
SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST
If not for the Christmas lights dangling almost in line with your window, the quickly diminishing daylight soon would've shone with its absence within the room. Dusk was approaching, if not already present, but not with its rosy summer glory, but a gloomy and yellowy-grey sky of early winter. 
Things were still a scale of grey and dark rather than white. Even though some stray white flakes had fallen when you arrived yesterday, they'd melted even before hitting the pavement. And, if it had been cold enough, pedestrians still would've trambled it into mush, and cars would've melted it with their heat.
You put on the small pendant earrings you'd brought as you glanced out the window and down at the people mulling about on the streets. 
Most had shopping bags in their hands, everyone seemingly in a hurry. You didn't need to see their faces whip left and right to find the next store they could steer towards. The ant-like stir of people was enough to know Christmas shopping was in full swing.
A heavy breath escaped you, your eyes flittering back to the mirror. 
You ran your hands down the fabric wrapped around your body. The material felt cool beneath your sweaty palms as you tried to brush out any wrinkles from the dress. Impossible, seeing how you'd gotten it from the tailor this morning and barely touched it inside its casing.
You took another deep breath, one hand raising until your palm rested over the centre of your chest, fingers draped over your bared clavicles. There's a prickling sensation beneath your hand, resembling the crowd's irregular movement outside. If you concentrated enough, you could almost feel how it vibrated, causing your heart to do an uncomfortable double beat that quickly pushed the air from your lungs before you instinctively inhaled.
"Not goin' to faint on me, are you, love?" Your eyes flicker sideways, landing on John as he emerges from the hotel room's bathroom.
"Might just now", you say breathlessly for an entirely different reason than the edginess causing the prickly sensation in your body. 
The man now making his way towards you is the same one you travelled to London with. And yet, there's no jacket ladened with a furry lapel warming him from the chilly temperatures, no beanie atop his head to shield him from the consistent gusts of wind. Now, he's dressed smart. 
Whatever event he's invited to is military in nature. So, while John mentioned that it was a black-tie event for civilians, it was ceremonial for him, meaning you would see him in his formal military uniform. But nothing had prepared you for how regal he now looked in his dark blue suit, polished black leather crossbelt with shoes to match, and the row of medals proudly displayed on his chest. The only missing thing was the matching hat pressed close to his body beneath his arm.
"Flatterin' an old man?" Your gaze locks with his again from having roved over his body, noticing the creases in the corner of his eyes as he stops beside you.
"You deserve every ounce of flattery when looking like that". You turn to John just as he settles one of his hands on the small of your back. In return, you raise your fingers, barely brushing them against the underside of his chin as you lean up and kiss him.
"Mhm, don't look too shabby yourself", he mumbles against you as you pull away from the brief exchange.
"Thank you". You turn towards the mirror again, eyeing yourself. "I didn't know if it was too much". 
"Could never be". 
You'd meant it to be a quick look, but your attention stayed on your reflection, eyes flittering over your form. 
There were a few beats of silence until John stepped up behind you, the hand previously on your back sliding to accommodate the new position. You follow his larger frame in the mirror, simultaneously feeling and seeing how his hands settle on your hip.
"Nervous?" Those blue eyes meet yours in the reflective surface, knowing. You release yet another sigh, head ducking momentarily as you lean into the sturdy bulk of John at your back.
"Yeah", you breathe, the admittance not the first of its kind. 
When the news had been brought up that John needed to attend some military event in London, you hadn't blinked twice. However, when he mentioned the invitation inquired about a plus one upon acceptance, and he'd asked you, you'd looked at him wide-eyed.
"There's no need to worry, love". John dips his head, kissing the juncture of your neck. "You know nothing is expected from you".
Your shoulders slump, hands seeking his as he wraps his arm around your waist. The weight was a pleasant pressure around your mid-drift while his skin was warm beneath your hand.
"I know, but-". You bite your lip, shrugging timidly, eyes meeting John's in the mirror. "It's a military event".
"Nervous 'bout meetin' some colleagues of mine?"
"Not just any type of colleagues", you mumble, making John let out a gentle chuckle.
"You get along great with the lads".
"That's when we're at the pub, not a formal occasion with a lot more of the same kind of people around". You huff in protest. Though Ghost wouldn't attend the event, Johnny and Kyle thankfully would. So, while John won't be the only familiar face in the crowd, that's still only three out of everyone invited.
"I just don't feel like I fit the picture". You shrug once, gaze dropping to watch you play with John's fingers. Your fingertips trail over his knuckles, then up and down his digits. Only when John interwines your hands does your motion stop and attention return to him.
"You'll fit because you'll be there with me". John's gaze was intense as he spoke, voice a steady, deep reassurance. "The lads nor I fancy these occasions, but we need to attend nonetheless. Your presence will undoubtedly make it more pleasant for me, at least".
You smile, craning your neck so you no longer watch him through the mirror but look up at him. John dips his chin in return.
"You're good at motivational speeches".
There's a chuckle before he nudges his nose against yours, moving closer. "Gotten good at 'em through the years". Your chuckle is sealed into your mouth as he slots his lips with yours. 
Your muscles relax as you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours and soothe you just like a warm blanket. Even when you part, you linger within each other's presence.
John was the first to pull away entirely, his eyes falling from yours as he did. You watch him take a step back, keeping one hand on your hip as he lets his gaze rove over your body. 
"God, you're gorgeous", he mutters, taking a full once over before those blues lock with yours again. 
You bite your lip, a smile breaking through nonetheless. "Would hope so. You helped me pick, after all".
"Anythin' to make my missus feel pretty". Your smile widens even more.
John had known you were nervous about the event, reluctant to even agree to be his plus one at first. So, he'd done everything to make you comfortable. 
When you'd had half a breakdown while digging through your closet, only to find nothing appropriate to wear, John sat with you as you looked at dresses online. After seeing nothing that felt right there either, he'd booked a weekend trip to London to visit the tailor he usually entrusted when his formal attire needed a sow-up. 
It had been your first trip together, strolling through the city, having dinners, playing tourist despite not really sightseeing. Though one of the days, between walking and dining, you'd visited the tailor's atelier. 
For once, John only sat down on one of the plush armrests; no need to be attended to. Instead, it was your time in the spotlight, the storage manager ushering you to the racks of dresses, instructing you to pick whatever caught your eye to try on. 
None of the dresses were especially embellished. Still, they weren't simple but elegant. 
You'd switched between examining the dresses, showing John to get his opinion when you found any you liked, to testing them. Although he didn't complain once about you taking your time, chatting to the owner with an old familiarity, even you were tired when you found a dress that was just right. 
However, the sluggishness only brought on by trying on clothes disappeared the second the owner had taken your measurements and you stood by the pay desk. A deposit was needed for the dress, and the rest would be paid on the day you picked it up. But the pre-payment had been enough to nearly make you baulk and glance at John to see if he was okay with spending so much. However, the man at your side hadn't even blinked at the number.
After you'd bid the tailor goodbye and exited the store, you did ask about it. Though not unfamiliar with John's gentlemanly fashion of paying for things, how confidently he answered left you at a loss for an answer, only able to shake your head with a smile when he offered his arm to you. 'I want to, love. It's the least I could do when draggin' you to this spectacle. Now lead me wherever you can find some jewellery matchin' the dress".
"Would you help your girl feel even prettier?" You hold up the necklace bought to fit the dress. God, he'd spoiled you rotten for this event.
"My pleasure". John threw his hat on the bed, overtaking the jewellery from you. With a slight move of his head, he signalled you to turn around. 
Despite facing the mirror again, your eyes were cast down as you tipped your head slightly forward. The glittering metal links suddenly pass your vision as he raises it over your head, the necklace falling over your collarbones as he lowers it. Feeling his fingers brush against your skin, not long after, a barely audible click indicates the piece of jewellery is secured around your neck.
When you raise your head, your eyes immediately fall to the necklace, your fingers trailing over it. A smile slowly shifts your lips upwards as you follow the pretty drop down your sternum. The gentle bow of your lips remains as you turn, craning your neck as you pout your lips, insisting that John meets you in a kiss. And he's never one to turn you down. 
"Thank you", you offer after the sweet peck of gratitude, to which he hums in return. 
You feel how his blue gaze follows you when moving towards the desk that became your makeup table for the night. Even more so when you reach for the lipstick you'd saved to apply until now. 
Crouching slightly so your face aligns with the much smaller mirror on the wooden desktop, you carefully outline your lips before colouring the rest until an even shade coats them.
"What do you think?" You say, straightening up again. As you press your lips together, you put on the lid and place the lipstick in your purse, all in the motion of turning to face the man almost transfixed with you. "Thought the red matched those". You motion with your finger to the ribbons, half-red and half-other colours, attached to his medals.
"It does". You parry the hand reaching for you with a shift to the side, knowing that tone of voice from John would only mess up your makeup. 
He arches a brow at your move, but you only arch both of yours in return as you put your clutch beneath your arm.
"We'll be late", you claim. Even so, you can't deny you enjoy John's attention and the look in his eyes. He makes you feel pretty, desired. It completely overhauls your stomach's previous knots.
Deciding to tease him just the slightest, you pop your index finger much more dramatically than needed into your mouth, pursing your lips around the digit before pulling it out slowly, all whilst keeping eye contact with the man watching you. You smile at John after your finger leaves your mouth, now not afraid of red smearing your teeth thanks to the ring of colour around the middle of your finger.
"Goodness, women", he groans, hand trailing over his lower face. You can only giggle as you pluck a tissue from the box on the desk, rubbing off the lipstick as you slip around John. "Could think you want to be late". 
You throw the paper into the bin beside the dresser as you pass it to the short hall leading to the door, flashing a much more satisfied smile over his reaction than previously graced your lips. 
"Good things come to those who are patient. You just have to wait until after the event for me to paint something else a pretty red".
You catch another deep, grumbly sound coming from him, your previous display more than enough to conjure precisely the picture you insinuated.
As you turn forward, you chuckle again, plucking your heels from the shoe stand built into the dresser. What you hadn't anticipated was for your shoes to be plucked from your grip seconds later and to find John standing close behind you with his retrieved hat under his arm.
You send him a questioning look that he ignores as he kneels. Unable to do anything else, you shift to rest your back against the dresser and follow along when he taps his kneecap. 
You raise your foot so the front pad rests against John's knee before he gingerly grabs the back of your ankle, and the pump is slipped on. He gives you time to find the balance on your now-heeled foot as he drops it before repeating the process. However, before letting you go this time, he raises your foot just slightly as he dips his head, kissing the lowest part of your shin, all the while looking up at you. 
"Gonna hold you to your words, love", he declares, dropping your foot to the ground.
You swallow, going from looking down to up as he rises from the floor. "Don't mind if you do".
"Good", he kisses your cheek, heeding your desire for him not to accidentally, or very consciously, destroy your makeup. "Let us be on the way", he says, grabbing your coats from the racks. 
***
The venue was beautiful: an old building with pillared walls, a second floor acting as a running balcony overlooking the ground floor and high vaulted glass roofs that stare into the dark sky above. You'd only looked down from the stunning decoration and lighting when you ascended the stairs to the main floor, lifting your dress to not catch on the fabric.
You don't know how long ago that had been, but since then, you and John haven't been given much time alone. 
Each and every minute, the man who either offered his arm for you to hold or kept a hand on the small of your back introduced you to someone he knew in one way or another. Although politely greeting them with either a nod or a handshake, there were too many names and too fleeting conversations for you to remember any of them.
Only now did you get the chance to breathe. But rather than feel at ease for the momentary respite, you'd hastily moved from the midst of the crowd to the edge of the room where the table of aperitifs and drinks was, a plate filled with bite-sized food in your hands.
You would've shared them with John if he hadn't been whisked away a few moments prior. Albeit he'd been reluctant to leave your side, even when it was some affiliate from the U.S. who asked for a few minutes of his time, you'd reassured him it was fine. 
You'd told yourself you could survive at least a few minutes without John and that the buffet could keep you company enough. And though you weren't as uncomfortable as you previously thought you would be, the thought of socialising with someone you'd either met already or not at all felt... awkward.
You wouldn't call it shyness. Far from it, you were curious about some of those you'd met who sported black smokings, cocktail dresses or gowns. But, out of those civilians you'd met so far, most of them were not like you. 
Your sole connection to this event, to the military, was John. The other considered civilians had seemingly much closer ties, most acting as private corporate sponsors for military-tied causes through funds or services. While finding it interesting, you didn't know how much of the stuff was confidential, and you would much rather not make a scene just for some small talk. Neither did many have a plus one you could initiate a conversation with. So, the buffet became your company.
Your gaze travels over the mass of people as you plop the last canapé into your mouth. And as if the universe decided to be kind, you spot a familiar face lingering at the other edge of the room. 
With all the new people John had introduced you to and recently also had to part from you to speak with, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, along with the feeling of being lost in a crowd of still most unfamiliar people. Hence, you quickly discard your plate to instead grab two flutes of champagne before moving straight across the floor.
With people moving almost sluggishly, if at all, around the room, it was no wonder a pair of brown eyes combined with a friendly smile welcoming you met your long before you joined the very man whose attention you'd gotten.
"Kyle". The man nods in response to his name as you get close enough to greet him. The silent hello looks incredibly more formal while dressed similarly to John. "How are you?" You slow until stopping before him.
"Good as can be", his voice was light, making your brows raise upon the humour in his tone. He was the first of John's closest circle you'd seen tonight; Johnny had yet to arrive. Even so, by the looks of it, the Brit looked like he rather wouldn't be here at all.
Kyle carried himself straight-backed, faint smile in the corner of his mouth, one hand behind his back while the other rested along his side. And yet, despite the at-eased posture and expression upon his features, something told you it was entirely for show.
You chuckle, handing him the flute you'd brought. "Yeah, not really my setting either", you admit in a low voice. 
Kyle cocks his head, smile widening as he shifts on his feet, accepting the drink you'd stretched forth. "What suggest I don't fancy this?".
"Don't know, but something about the all too delighted expression gave me a hint", you reply, sarcasm lacing your tone, on par with the amount that previously laden his sentence. That's the first time you see Kyle's shoulders drop somewhat as he chuckles, his posture less flawless as he looks more relaxed than previously.
You smile at his reaction, stepping forward to stand beside rather than in front of him. His brown gaze followed you as you did.
"Why ain't this your kind of setting then?". Your eyes fall on Kyle just as he shifts to look over the crowd.
"Too many of the older generation has gotten stuck and too comfortable behind their desks to remember what it's like out on the field. The rest are mostly snobs who think money and chest candy is our motivation". You bite your lip to stop the laughter rising from your throat at his quick remark. "Why isn't this your setting then? You fit in with the dress".
"Calling me a snob?" You raise a playful brow, a smile tugging the corner of your mouth.
"That you're here, talking to me, says enough", Kyle retorts, eyes falling on you. 
You chuckle, but it turns into a sigh when your gaze breaks from his, fleeting over the crowd. "It just makes me nervous, I guess".
"Why?"
"Well, for the same reason as when I first met you guys". You glance at him. "Just feels like I don't fit in with all of you military people, especially now, at this event".
"Didn't do too bad of an impression on us back then. Especially not Price". You duck your head, a bashful smile bowing your lips that's still present when you look at the man at your side again.
"Perhaps not, but as you said, many here are high-ranking military personnel or snobs that are more difficult to get along with than you lot".
"Cheers to that", he chuckles, raising his glass of champagne. You mimicked his movement and raised your flute in a small tip, you both taking a sip from your drinks as they fell from their elevated position.
Your eyes glide over the crowd, and as if it's second nature, you search for John again. While having tried to spot him previously, you hadn't been successful. Although this time around, you find him.
"He's good at that". You observe John as he talks to the same man who'd whisked him away previously, though now they're also joined by a woman.
Your comment pulls Kyle's attention in the same direction as yours.
He releases a huff not soon after, the reaction making your brows arch and your head turn towards him. His brown eyes flicker down to lock with yours, a humorous glint in them. 
"The old man is good at handling the higher-ups and other connections. That's why he does most of the talk for us". His eyes flicker sideways, probably towards the group you talked about, before they return to you. "Doesn't mean he despises it any less than the rest of us in most cases".
You turn to look at John, eyes narrowing as you closely watch him interact with the man and women. While he seems formal when talking to the man and more cordial with the women, he still doesn't seem relaxed. His posture is stiff, one arm bent behind his back as if wanting to pose fittingly to the occasion, his other hand clutching a champagne flute. Untouched.
Pissy excuse of fizzy water, he'd said once you asked if he wanted to share an old bottle you found in your apartment from god knows when, but acceptable enough that it wouldn't taste like the piss John labelled it as.  
"That's why he brought you". Kyle's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "He's going to use you as a scapegoat the moment it's deemed enough for him to be here". You bit your lip to quiet your snicker, shaking your head.
"He isn't", you argue, only partly believing it yourself.
"Oh, he will". Your head turned towards the new but familiar voice, finding Johnny, dressed similarly to both John and Kyle, approaching from the crowd. "Don't put it past him". 
You immediately split into a grin. "Johnny, how are you?" You step forward, engulfing the man in a hug, getting anchored to the Scot's side as his arm remains over your shoulders.
"Think Gaz gave ya a brief 'nough for us", the Scotsman formally greets the young Brit with a raise of his brows and an upward nod of his head as he directs his attention towards him. Kyle only reciprocated the motion, not answering his question. "Ya gonna drink that, lass?" 
You shake your head fondly, Johnny taking the flute of champagne from your hand as you give it to him. 
"Drunkard", you mumble, rolling your eyes as he gulps down your drink, only to provide you with a cheeky wink when he's emptied the glass.
"Where's Price?" You're about to answer that he's socialising. But you don't get the opportunity before a voice cuts in.
"Savin' my missus from a drunk Scotsman, it seems". Your head snaps towards John's voice, a smile unfolding as you see him nearing your group while collective chuckles emerge from the men around you. "Easy on the drinks tonight, Sergeant". John's eyes switch from yours as he directs his attention to Johnny, the quirk of his lips now reaching his eyes.
"All stereotypes ain't true, Captain. Besides-". The Scot lets go of you, his arm falling as he steps to the side, giving John room to step into the semi-circle. As if you never left his side, his arm naturally falls around your waist, anchoring you to his broad frame again. "-can't get drunk on this, know it yaself", Johnny chuckles.
John hums in agreement, swirling the golden liquid in his flute with the hand hanging by his side. You tap his flank, and he looks down at you. As you motion for the glass with a nod, he gives it to you without any protest, probably delighted to get rid of the drink.
You happily sip it, your throat not feeling as tight anymore when John's with you and you're surrounded by familiar faces.
"How's the evening been then, Captain?" John shifts to look at Kyle.
"Not too shabby, lot of talkin' as always", he says. "Where the two of you been then?" His eyes shift from his fellow Brit to Johnny, who's standing with the hand not clutching the empty glass in his pocket.
"You know how London traffic is". Kyle offers with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not complaining about it this time around though".
"Only means you need to stay longer", John huffs, arm tightening around you. You can't help but shoot the younger Brit a look, an amused smile barely hidden beneath the rim of your glass. He cocks his head slightly, an unspoken 'what did I say' lingering between the two of you. "You two conspirin'?" Your eyes flitter back to John as he bumps his hip into yours.
"No", Kyle says as your eyes lock with the man at your side. John's eyes shine, a brow quirked in intrigue. It schooled the expression of rigidity he had previously, showing how at ease he became around his men despite the setting.
"What he said". You smile sweetly at John, fluttering your lashes, causing a ruckus of laughter around you. 
"Be careful, Captain. That one is a sly thing". Johnny claps him on the shoulder.
"I know".
"Don't paint me in a bad light", you joke, nudging John's side with your elbow. The man in question chuckles when watching the pout you send him.
"The lot rub off on me", he indirectly chides Johnny and Kyle, both of whom make faux hurtful sounds upon the comment. "I better steal you away from them and introduce you to better company".
"Who could possibly be better company than us? The silent grump ain't here anyway". The Scotsman questions, glancing around the space with a humoured look until it returns.
"Laswell is better than the two of you together", John returns with a chuckle, his arm tightening around your waist to signal that you soon would be moving to meet whoever this Laswell was.
Upon what's apparently a familiar name, Johnny's brows jump upwards. "She made it here? Didn't think she would". 
John only answers with an affirming hum. "Behave now", he offers in goodbye while you give them a wave before he tugs you with him.
As John directs the two of you through the crowd, you soon realise where he's taking you. The woman he's leading you towards is the same one he'd been talking to previously.
You give him a curious glance when you note she isn't dressed in any military uniform, only a long-sleeved jumpsuit. Even so, when you turn to face her again, the woman has noticed your nearing presence and turned toward you, eyes regarding you in a manner too in-depth to be a civilian.
Her eyes flicker sideways as you stop before her, most probably to the man at your side. It's brief but enough for her face to soften and a hint of a smile to quirk her mouth.
"Kate Lawsell", her American accent is apparent as her eyes fall to meet yours again upon the greeting. You're not late to shake the hand she stretched forth, introducing yourself in return. "So you're John's sweetheart?"
You shrug with a smile as you feel John's thumb start brushing circular patterns through the silky material of your dress. "Guess I am". She hums, the corner of her lip twitching a bit further upwards.
"Almost thought he made you up with the lack of evidence about his special someone".
You chuckle while practically feeling how John rolls his eyes. "S'no need to carry a photo with me everywhere".
"Expected it from a traditional one like you", she shrugs one of her shoulders. Their exchange makes you smile, head cocking slightly.
"So, where do you know each other from?" 
"I work for C.I.A., deal a fair share with the 141 and that British Captain of yours". Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent oh as your eyes shift to John, then back to Kate.
"That ain't half-bad". Your comment brings out a chuckle from the dark blonde woman.
"Say that when trying to keep any kind of leash on him". Kate nods towards John, a conspiring look in her eyes, one he gruffs at.
"That so?" You face the man at your side with an amused expression, catching the look he sends the woman opposite him. "Am I hearing that you're a nuisance at work?"
John's eyes flicker to you, his features softening as his head dips in a shake and small huff of laughter. "You women always like to team up".
Despite his comment, you talked with Kate for a few more minutes, getting to know more about her, until separate parties dragged her and John off. This time around, however, you got tugged along to the new conversation, with no choice but to remain glued to the brunette's side as he didn't let up on his hold.
Although relieved to stay with him again, your feet start to feel sore, and your body tired. Consequently, you slowly let John take more room in the conversation as you fell silent, still with a smile present to appear interested in the conversation. 
You take a deep breath, careful not to let your exhale sound like a sigh. Even so, John caught it, giving you a brief look to check in on you. You spare him a glance, attempting a soothing smile to fend off any potential concern.
His eyes flitter over your face before he turns forward again, offering a chuckle at something the soldier said. You'd completely missed what it was but mimicked John with a much softer sound huffed through your nose. 
You try to concentrate after that, as it's the only polite thing to do. But god, you find your mind wandering to every little ache suddenly emerging. 
Shifting the weight on your feet subtly, you try to move your hips to ease the twinge in your spine. Unsuccessful, you straighten your back, rolling your shoulders to try a different approach. Through your peripheral, you notice your squirming caught John's attention again, his gaze flickering sideways momentarily. Soon after, his thumb starts rubbing the small of your back with slightly more pressure just to be a subconscious movement.
John had been attentive to you the whole night, but if you could catch his attention this easily, you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't only your concentration that started to stray or energy to wither.
Even if you probably would do both of you a favour by asking if it was time to leave, you didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so you simply let your head fall sideways onto John's shoulder, content with feeling how his kneading thumb eased the discomfort in your lower back. 
Thankfully, whoever this Miller was, he didn't keep a long-winded conversation with John as Generals had. Instead, the soldier of equal rank soon bid you both goodbye, explaining his departure as not wanting to take up too much of your time. That made your smile more genuine than it had been while listening to the two men for the last few minutes.
As you sigh lightly, a gentle press against your back suddenly steers you forward. You don't protest when John moves you through the crowd, especially not when noticing he's leading you to the outskirts of it.
"How you feelin', love?" John ducks his head to ask the question as your pace slows.
"I'm good, just a bit exhausted after standing for so long", you return with a shrug as you stop at the edge of the crowd, between the columns lining the wall. You tilt your head to look at John as he stands opposite you. Blue eyes meet yours as his hand moves to the dip of your waist before they skate over the crowd.
You watch John as he does, feeling his finger through your dress as they rap against you, almost as if thinking about something. 
Gaze falling, you follow his profile: the slope of his nose, the sharp line of his jaw accentuated by the angle of his head, his beard shining with the oil he'd worked into it after his earlier shower. God, he's too bloody handsome tonight. 
From nowhere, you get the urge to lean up and kiss the skin of his throat right above his collar. Though quelling the desire to plant a red mark matching the outline of your lips on his throat here, amongst all these people, that's all it takes for your mind to spiral.
Gonna hold you to your words, love. 
His sentence from the hotel room echoes in your mind, and suddenly, you can't wait any longer to be the scapegoat Kyle had dubbed you. Sick and tired of this event already.
When you take a step closer to John, his attention is quickly pulled back towards you. With his now undivided attention on you, you lightly grab the tie tucked beneath his jacket, tugging slightly on it to straighten the material to its previous perfection a few hours earlier. 
Satisfied with the minor fix you'd done to his attire, you pat his chest, eyes travelling upwards to lock with his not soon after.
John scrutinises your hands that remain close to where you'd fiddled with his tie rather than drop to your sides. When his blue gaze locks with yours, his head cocks. "What are you up to?"
"M'nothing, just wondering when it's acceptable to leave this event".
John's eyes narrow slightly before his brows rise. "Any special reason to why?"
"Just want to go back to the hotel". You made it evident that trailing your hands down his chest wasn't a coincidence but a conscious decision as you lowered them to pull your purse from beneath your upper arm. "Don't know what you're insinuating". 
"You don't?" You only reply with a coy nuh-uh sound as you open your purse, pulling out the golden encasing housing your lipstick. 
You'd touched up your makeup once throughout the evening, right after John left you to talk with whoever the American man had been, along with Kate, for the first time. As you do it now, blue eyes fall from yours, following your move of painting your lips in a new coat of red. 
"You know very well what you're doin', love". His words are spoken slowly, but their edges are rough, frayed.
"Just playing my part as pretty arm candy". After putting away your lipstick again, you motion to your lips. "Want to help me so I don't get any lipstick on my teeth?" You form your lips into an o, knowing precisely what you're doing.
"Love...", he warns, fingers pressing into your waist.
"John?" You retaliate with a cock of your brow, only to shrug when he makes no move to help you.
Raising a finger, you place only the tip between your lips before pulling it out with a pop. 
A repressed groan escapes John, head tilting backwards, eyes shut tightly. "You're doin' this to me on purpose", he grinds out.
"Of course I am", you giggle in return, using your other hand to rather unceremoniously rub away the red colour with your fingers. "So what's the choice? We staying a bit longer or-". You're not even allowed to finish the sentence before John's head tips forward again, and he does it for you.
"We're goin', now". His arm swiftly wraps around your waist to turn the both of you towards the exit.
"Can't play polite anymore?" You let yourself be carried along.
"Been plenty polite when all I've wanted the whole evenin' is to return to the hotel". John's hand scorches the place it pushes against the small of your back, guiding you straight to the very stairs you'd entered through hours ago. "Then you're pretty arse go about actin' up, provin' how much more I would've gotten done there than here", he grumbles, making you swat the side of his chest with a low, chastising John concerning the setting you're on. The man in question only sends you a look, daring you to argue against him, but after forcing his hand to take you back to the hotel, you can't.
There was a warm, eager air between you and John as you retrieved your coats and exited the venue. You shared glances, fleeting but heated locks of your eyes that had your body igniting. Touches setting you aflame even if his was much the same as throughout the evening but firmer, while yours were brief, teasing over his torso. 
When John managed to hail a cab, he let you enter first, following seconds later and sitting down in the backseat with a low, frustrated sound. 
He tugs his hat from his head, the other hand smoothening his hair. You both know there's a twenty-minute ride ahead of you when even half the time would've been too long and yet you watch him with amusement as his head thuds backwards.
He must feel your eyes on him as his head rolls to face you. You didn't need to say anything; your smile was enough to make him release a low, impatient grunt, eyes closing. 
You chuckle, hand settling on John's thigh as you do. Apparently, he thinks there's an ulterior motive behind your action as his eyes snap open, sending you a warning look that, if anything, made you wish you had done something to deserve it. His large hand grabs yours to emphasise the message to not try anything, dropping it in your lap instead. Even so, he doesn't pull away afterwards, instead letting your fingers intertwine.
When finally rolling up to the hotel, John couldn't stop tapping his thumb against your hand as he paid for the cab, practically dragging you along when he exited the car. 
With his hat in a white-knuckled grip and your hand in a gentler hold, the two of you moved through the lobby. You felt how fiercely John battled with himself to not stalk to the elevators but keep a pace that wouldn't draw attention and you could match.
It's always amusing seeing John like this, exhilarating if nothing. And that's why you can't help but poke the bear while waiting for the elevator. 
You slip your hand from his, blue eyes immediately falling to you as your arm closest to him slides beneath his coat and around his waist, squeezing his mid-drift teasingly.
"Someone seems impatient". The end of your sentence is perfectly followed by the chime of the elevator arriving. Letting your hand drop after pressing your fingers into John's side, you stride into the empty space with a sway to your hips. "I wonder why". You look over your shoulder, a smile gracing your lips as you cock a brow.
John is hot on your heels, pressing the button to close the doors rather than waiting for them to do so. 
Just when you turn to lean against the railing the furthest in, he takes the last step towards you, hands settling beside your own, caging you against the wall just as the door slides close. 
"You should know what torture it's been havin' you this good-lookin' and unable to do anythin' the whole evenin'". John's words are rushed as his head dips close to your face.
"Ditto", you return in a hum, gaze flittering down and then up again. "There was a relatively empty second floor I thought about dragging you to".
"Fuckin' hell, don't say that", he groans, hand coming to cup the back of your neck, angling your face towards his. 
Yet, before John can press his mouth against yours, the elevator suddenly halts on a floor too early to be yours.
He quickly drops his hand and moves so he doesn't corner you against the wall, even though he remains awfully close. Your eyes swiftly snap to the opening doors, schooling your features into a polite smile at the woman who steps into the elevator. She offers you a similar one before her eyes flicker to John. When they do, her eyebrows rise before they jump back to you. 
For a few mortifying seconds, you fear she knows precisely what she interrupted until her smile becomes softer.
"If the two of you don't make a stunning pair", she remarks kindly, making John turn his head to look at her, his body still firmly angled towards you. 
"Well, thank you", you answer for you both.
"My husband was also in the military", she directs the comment to you even if her eyes flitter to John when she continues. "But he never took me to those fancy events. The old man despised them like the plague".
"Seems like all of them do". You chuckle in return, patting John's side fondly. 
The man in question remains remarkably silent, only muttering something under his breath. Your eyes switch to him, sending him a questioning look. Blue eyes return your stare as his head tilts to the right, just a notch, but your brows only pinch together, still not understanding what he's trying to silently get at. That is until his face sets and John angles his hips just slightly more into the upper part of your thigh, and you feel it. 
You almost gasped at the considerable bulge in his pants that definitely would be in danger of showing. Yet, you manage not to, only letting your brows shoot up when you finally understand John's silence and the position he was adamant about keeping.
The woman, however, must have interpreted it like some coupley squabble as she chuckles at your interaction, pulling your attention to her.
"Young love, always so charming."
"Young?" John scoffs into your ear, his voice barely enough to be considered a whisper. "Got me feelin' like a bloody teen", he grouses over his predicament.
You duck your head, forehead falling against his shoulder as you muffle the chuckle bubbling in your throat. 
While the man you hide your face against notices your shoulders jumping and sends you a glare, the woman again misinterprets your reaction.
"No need to be embarrassed. We've all been young once".
"Did you meet your husband young?" You shift the conversation when finally facing her, sure no trace of your previous amusement could be detected.
"Oh goodness, yes, even younger than the two of you", she motions to you and John with a wave. "Much more immature, too". You almost laugh out loud at that. And like previously, John notices, husking a low, pointed 'Don't laugh' into your ear.
"This one's a real gentleman." You turn to face John, smiling up at him despite being met by a stern expression. What the women don't see is the way your hand trails down, down over his stomach until the flat of your palm presses into the spot just above his groin. 
John's jaw flexes, unable to snatch your hand and pull it away if not genuinely desiring to draw attention to what you're doing. But that doesn't stop his blue eyes from meeting yours as he lowly hisses, "And don't do that".
Then, the elevator suddenly lets out a ding as it stops.
"It was lovely to meet you youths, but this is my stop", the woman waves after the doors slide open, John craning his neck to watch her leave with a faint, for your eyes awfully forced, smile. "Have a great evening".
"You too!" You reciprocate her wave as she exits, receiving a friendly smile before the doors close.
Seconds, it takes seconds before your vision is once more filled by John.
"You... love-", he chuckles, nose scrunching as his head cocks to the side. "-oh, you are trouble".
"Don't be moody. You were called a youth", you chuckle. John only manages to open his mouth before the elevator chimes again, this time on your floor. 
You know it was your saving grace from how those blue eyes had narrowed at you. Instead, he only exhales sharply as you grasp his hand, forcing him to follow you to the exit.
Although reaching the doors, you stall with one hand holding them open, peeking outside, head swivelling right and left down the corridor. Noticing the coast was clear, you tug John with you.
Even if no one was around, he walked close enough behind you that the slight problem in his pants would be hidden enough if you stumbled into someone.
Thankfully, you didn't meet anyone on the way to your room, sparing you from the embarrassing interaction that could've occurred. However, it enabled John to whip out the key card and more than a bit unceremoniously push you into your room once the light flashed green, the door barely slipping close before he chucked his hat to the side to pull you against him. 
John's thick arm winds around your waist, pulling your body against his as his nose gently knocks against yours. Hot lips descending upon yours soon after, moulding your mouths together.
A groan vibrates against your lips, John's fingers digging into your ribcage and the side of your stomach. His near-desperate need to feel you against him makes your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. The response is instantaneous, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. It's your time to release a pleased sound, something melting away from your body as hunger takes its place.
"Fuckin' hell", John nearly rips himself away from you as he grunts the words against your parted lips, hands enveloping your face as he lets his forehead rest against you. Heavy exhales puff against your face in an attempt to steady his heaving chest, to rein in himself. He doesn't remain like that for long, shifting backwards as his eyes flutter open. 
John's gaze locks with yours, eyes considerably darker than usual. Sodalite rather than aventurine. A warm shiver runs down your spine, unable to continue meeting those blues due to the flush spreading through your body. And yet, despite the tangible tension, a chuckle travels up your throat when your flickering eyes halt at one spot on his face.
Your amusement and thumb swiping over John's lips to wipe away the lipstick now coating them in a faint red pop the feverish bubble, turning it somewhat softer, less desperate.
When the added colour fades, you finally lock eyes with John again, finding they've creased in the corners.
"Maybe we should get you out of this, so I don't go about tainting that, as well", you hum, fingers falling to toy with his white dress shirt, mindful to keep the thumb you'd wiped his lips with at bay. Only a deep hum escapes John, yet it's enough for you to make do with your suggestion. 
Your fingers find the first golden button on his army jacket, unbuttoning that, then the next and all the ones until it falls open. Hands moving inside, you feel the warmth of his skin shielded beneath his dress shirt. 
Your hands move up his chest, over his shoulders, until you move the dark blue jacket down his arms. John shrugs out of it, and while letting his wool coat drop to the floor, you're mindful of the jacket, grabbing it in one hand as you move him backwards by pressing your body against his, lips teasingly close but not kissing, only brushing as your breaths mingle.
When you're close enough, you drape his jacket over the chair by the desk before attempting to move on to the next piece of clothing. But apparently, you move too slow for John as he steps back, yanking his tie loose to tug over his head, throwing it to the side. The buttons on his shirt make a frustrated grunt leave him before it's tossed aside as well. While your eyes never leave him, you slip out of your coat, letting it fall to the floor with no greater care than he'd done his clothes seconds later. 
Not only does your gaze drop to John's now-bared chest. Your hands move on their own, feeling him up, sliding over his pecs and the slight patch of brown hair covering them before they slide lower, over his stomach, reaching the happy trail beneath his navel. But too soon, your exploration of his burly upper body ends, John moving out of your reach as he steps backwards. 
Not until his shins hit the edge of the bed and he sits down does he stop putting space between you.  
You watch as his shoes are toed off, all while keeping eye contact with you. Not until John raises a finger, motioning for you to come closer, do you follow him.
You're about to straddle his lap when he stops you, making a twirly motion with his hand. Your head tilts even if you listen, turning your back to him. Gripping your hips, John steers you to sit on his thigh. You wobble slightly as you do, hands shooting to stabilise yourself by grabbing his hand and his other thigh as you press your feet to the floor to keep stable upon the muscular seat.
Once he notices you've found your balance, his big paws slide up your body until his fingers brush the back of your neck. There's barely an ounce of fiddling before you feel the clasp of the dress unhook, and the zipper descends. 
Kisses are pressed against the nape of your neck, the top of your spine and a last one on your shoulder blade before John squeezes your hips, urging you to stand with a delicate push upwards and forward. As you do, the heavy fabric of the dress falls to the floor, collecting in a lustrous circle around your feet. 
When turning to face the man whose attention never averted from you, only your necklace, panties, and heels are the remnants of your previous outfit.
"Always so fuckin' pretty beneath those things", John mumbles, hands rising from his sides. But, before his hands can reach for you, you settle one of your own on his equally naked chest, giving a gentle shove. But the brunette doesn't heed your want, not letting himself be budged an inch.
"Scoot up, John". You nod upward the bed, positioning one knee between his legs on the tiny sliver of the mattress available. He cocks his head in intrigue, hand grasping the back of your thigh, running up and down with gentle gropes.
"What you plannin', love?"
You press your lips together, John's eyes flickering downwards before returning in a slow trail upwards to meet your gaze. "Wanna be good after how I've teased you, Captain". Your voice drops, nearly entering a purr as you trail your fingers to his jaw.
You see him shudder, goosebumps flittering down his forearms as his big hand squeezes the back of your thigh.
"Fine then", John moves up the bed, and you crawl after him, effectively shrugging off your heels that thud to the floor as you do.
As he makes himself comfortable, you busy yourself with opening his belt and rucking down his pants and boxers in one. John's flushed and erect cock bobs upwards towards his stomach as he lifts his hips for you. Just as you rid him of his pants, you remember something. 
When you scoot off the bed again, you haphazardly throw his pants over the same stool as his jacket, moving towards your purse. John props himself on one elbow, brows pulling together as he follows you.
"Thought you say you wouldn't tease, eh?" His voice is husky, verging on impatient as you look over your shoulder, watching as he wraps a hand around the base of himself, most likely not the touch he'd liked as a frustrated rather than pleasurable grunt leaves him.
"I'm not, just fulfilling my promise", you say, wiggling the lipstick you'd fished out before returning to him. 
Moving up the bed, you settle on your knees between John's muscular legs. Opening the case, your gaze locks with his as you coat your lips in a more noticeable red. The sight makes his cock twitch in his hand, his head notching backwards slightly, resting on his shoulder, without ever letting those blues leave you. 
You shoo away his hand when you're done and throw your lipstick aside, your fingers wrapping around him instead. A pleased hum vibrates from John's chest as he relaxes backwards, head settling against the pillows. 
Although promising not to tease, you press a few firm kisses to the lowest parts of his stomach, along his adonis belt and the area just above the cock you're pumping lazily with twisting motions, colouring his skin with red lip-marks. 
When satisfied with your work, you finally slot your lips around him, the sudden heat of your mouth making John's cock jerk, one of his hands instinctually shooting to the back of your head with a drawn-out groan filling the air.
Despite usually building up to a swift pace gradually, pulling out the process to build his pleasure, you don't hesitate to overwhelm John with how you drop an inch or two down his cock immediately, tightly sealing your lips around his shaft, doing everything to leave those marks you'd promised around his cock.
"Fuck". John's hips jerk upwards, not expecting the suddenness of your actions, though he manages to stop the full thrust by slamming his head backwards, hand tightening considerably at the back of your head. 
A smugness fills your chest as you pull back slightly, suckling the tip leaking precum, tongue swiping back and forth over his frenulum while your hand creates slow, circular rotations at his base. 
Through the lowest corner of your eyes, you notice the red rings around his cock, yet you steadily look upwards, following how John's head rises again, eyes half-lidded as your gazes lock. But those blues don't meet yours for long before they fall, the twitch of him inside your mouth and the near growl telling you he also spots the stains left behind by your lipstick.
"Those pretty lips makin' such lovely marks 'round my cock". The sound of his voice is so rough and delicious that your cunt clenches around nothing. "Such a good girl, ain'tcha, love?" You release him with a pop, but rather than answer, you collect your spit on your tongue, stretching it out as your hand moves upwards. Letting the glob of spit hit his cockhead, you coat his saft in the slickness with a pumping motion.
"Fuckin' hell", John rasps, sounding almost pained as his eyelids flutter close, head falling backwards. Your smile is brief before you slot your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down half of his length, the rest squeezed and jerked by your hand.
"Suckin' me off s'good. Come on, deeper you go". He's not even looking at you as he speaks, his throaty words subdued into the air, almost as if he chokes on them halfway through. If anything, it makes you moan around him as you let the hand on the back of your head press you all the way down until he hits the back of your throat. "Jus' like that", he groans between clenched teeth. 
As your tongue plays with the underside of his length and head bobs up and down, you feel him twitch violently inside your mouth, beefy thighs pressing against the side of yours, timbre-low sounds stemming from deep in his chest.
As John finally opens his eyes and looks down at you once more, always so transfixed with the way you desire to please him, he catches the faint glimmer of your jewellery behind the hand and mouth busy with his cock. The stones in the pendant glitter despite the room's dimness, the light from outside finding its way to make them gleam. What's remarkable is that your eyes harbour the shame glint.
Although heady with lust, your eyes are bright, excited, as your gaze meets his. The fact that you love this just as much as he does is enough to make him groan and tip his head backwards, wallowing in the pleasure creeping up his spine. 
Only when a slurping noise fills the air as you suck purposefully and tongue plays the underside of his cockhead, does John's release hurtle dangerously close, and he pulls you off with a firm grip on your hair.
"I wasn't done". 
"You're gonna be the death of me". That comment melts your stare into a smile.
"Don't die on me, handsome". 
"C'mere". John's hand falls from your hair to grip your jaw, pulling you upwards. Your arms shoot to catch you, stabilising on either side of his body as he bends forward, crashing his lips against yours halfway. 
It's dirty, your tongue slipping against John's as he pushes into your mouth, no doubt tasting himself on you. But it doesn't bother him, never has, not when it's on your lips that he tastes himself.
"You wet, love?" He groans against your lips before slanting his mouth against yours anew, your whined 'yes' going straight into his mouth. You unconsciously press your legs together, wiggling your hips, the motion along your forward-bent position exposing your drenched panties to the considerably cooler air. It urges another sound into the mesh of lips, a whine of discomfort this time. 
"Bet you fuckin' are, love suckin' my cock".
A shudder runs down your whole back. "John-"
"Love bein' fucked even more, eh? Get on your back". The demand barely leaves his lips before you shift over his form, laying down just to the left of his previous position in the king-sized bed. 
John moves between your legs, resting on his haunches as he pulls both your legs upwards, squeezing them together as he lets them rest against his chest. With a yank, he pulls your panties off your hips, the wetness on the crotch area dragging against the inside of your thighs as he tugs off the piece of fabric.
You don't know where they end up, wide eyes following John as he lets your legs down, pinning your thighs to the side, wasting no time before his hand slips over your cunt.
"Fuckin' soppin'", he drawls, confirming the answer you'd given him. "Can't wait to feel me stretch you out, can you?" His thumb runs down to your fluttering entrance, teasingly pushing against it. Before he goes any deeper, though, he collects some of your slick and trails his thumb to your clit.
He plays with your bundle of nerves just the way he knows you like. The pressure, speed, and everything he'd learnt about your body is now utilised to get you even more desperate, even wetter. And it works like a bloody charm too, your gasps soon turning to low moans and whines.
"C'mon, love, gotta be quiet", John shushes you, settling a hand over your throat, your necklace digging into his palm. He doesn't squeeze, simply rests it there to accentuate his point, and yet, he doesn't let up on playing with your clit, not even as your squirm, his thumb only chasing you through the movement. "Can't let everyone hear you, now can we?"
Even if you realise John deliberately must have kept his voice down as you blew him -because, of course, you're not at home- even if you try your damnedest, you can't contain your sounds of pleasure.
"Can't", you whine. John makes a deep sound, something between soothing and a snarl that makes your heart jump. Your eyes widen when his gaze darkens and he leans closer, all while his fingers apply more pressure on your clit, the pace quickening. As his face hovers over yours, your mouth falls open, letting out just one of those breathy moans he told you to hold.
"Can't, eh?" John releases your throat and leans back, but not enough to sit straight. Instead, he bends your legs forward and hooks his arm around your waist, manually flipping you over with a swift jerk. "That should do the trick".
It's a strength you know he possesses, but it makes you gasp in surprise anyway, the sound now muffled as your head is slotted in the crease between pillows. 
Two big paws suddenly grab your asscheeks, groping the fat as you feel the man behind you lean over you just after widening your legs with his knees. 
"Stunnin' fuckin' view from back here. This pretty arse-", John spanks your ass with one hand, making you keen, instinctually arching your back towards John. "- and your lovely cunt, just weepin' for me", the same hand that soothed the sting of his slap slide to your wetness.
You beg, a please moaned from your lips as he stretched you, barely any trouble going from one to two fingers with a few pumps. When he doesn't respond, you try again, louder, but only get a chuckle in return.
"Can't hear you, love". Amusement fills John's voice, making you frustratedly whine into the mattress before pushing a pillow to the side, raising your head only to crane it over your shoulder. Sitting behind you is an awfully smug-looking Brit.
"Please", you breathe the whisper, now mindful of your tone, which only widens his smile as he leans over your sprawled-out form.
The sudden prodding against your entrance comes without any warning, and you whip your head around to press into the mattress, muffling your moan so violently that John chuckles. But the sound swiftly deepens, evolving into a tight-lipped groan as he slowly pushes deeper.
Your back arches when his pelvis hits your backside, your motion prompting the slow grind of his hips against you. He doesn't even pull out, only rolls his hips shallowly against your rear.
All John can do is work his hips back and forth, listening to your faint moans slipping from the mattress your face rests against and the slick sounds of your pretty pussy being fucked. 
When he leans his weight forward, hands gripping your hips, John shoves himself even further inside you, driving your face further into the bed. You practically sob, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—
"Fuck, you feel s'good 'round me". The lewd way he said it, a groan breaking the sentence into two with the unhurried sound of skin slapping occasionally, had you choking on an affirming moan. "Makin' such a mess. Pretty cunt's so wet, stretched".
John stuffs his fat cock into you with slow, even thrusts from behind, watching how you grip him tight when he pulls out and sucks him in once he pushes forwards. 
It's slow until it's not. 
When John loses patience, or the pleasure simply gets too much for him not to chase more, he changes the pace, making the curve of your ass jiggle against his hips with each shove of his cock into your cunt. You push your face into the bedding as far as not choking yourself goes, moaning throatily as you clench around him. 
He fills you so deliciously like this. Each firm press of his hips against your ass crams his entire girthy length into you as his balls push against your clit. The rocking motion fills the air with wet slaps that make your head spin and fingers curl into the covers. 
You moan unabashedly as he fucks you. Deep and fast enough that he needs to angle your hips, but when you just keep sliding back prone against the bed from the force of his shoves, John simply leans over you with a growl, fucking you down into the bed. 
Whining, you thrash your head at the way he pounds into your sweet spot buried so deep. With your mouth falling open, it's no surprise if saliva soaks the fabric beneath your face.
Your orgasm doesn't even build slowly. It's a tumbling mess that, once it starts, just picks up momentum until you hurl face-forwards into it. It's so violent it catches John off-guard. The sudden way you shudder with a broken moan, the muscle of your back tensing, walls clamping down on him, everything without him even having to play with your clit, tells him you were just as worked up and exhausted as him, not able to do anything but let the pressure release.
"Fuck", he curses, thick and dark, feeling you get even slicker and tremble beneath his fingers. 
Even through your drunken haze, you catch the drawn-out vowel of the word, which tells you John's close. 
What surprises you, however, is that rather than rut irregularly into you until he buries himself deep and comes, his hand shoots to rest beside your head to catch his weight when he falls forward, slipping out of you in the process. Leaving your fluttering aftershocks to clench around nothing.
You feel as John jerks himself, his knuckles brushing over your skin rapidly. His breath cascades over the back of your head, head probably hanging low between his shoulders as he gazes down your body. Albeit not knowing what he has in mind -his fixation on spilling deep inside you as he pushes himself as close as possible to you no secret- you arch your spine, wiggling your ass upwards.
It prompts a deep, growling moan from him before his breath does a little hitch, then he groans, pleased and drawn out as you feel his release shoot over your ass and then straight over your pussy.
The bed quivers beside your head, all strength momentarily escaping John's burly frame that slackens against your back. Although he slumps to his forearm to keep most of his weight off, his other hand resting on the bed near the dip of your waist, he still presses you considerably deeper into the mattress.
John's heaving exhales disturb your hair, but your eyes remain closed, your whole body feeling light and satisfied as you relax, fingers uncurling from the covers. 
When the man behind you finally moves, you don't have the energy to rise and look at what he does when he grabs your cheeks in his big hands, massaging the plush flesh with parting motions. But, you can only imagine he stares at the white ropes of cum coating your rear, gaze dropping to follow the way it dribbles down over your cunt.
Even if John doesn't do it for long, a pleased hum fills the air before he stops. 
His hands are suddenly replaced with something that swipes over your asscheek and down between your legs. Despite twitching at the contact as it moves along your sensitive core, you release an appreciative sound as he wipes you clean of your releases. John replies by bending forward, kissing your shoulder-blade before shifting off you with a last squeeze to your hip.
Despite feeling the mattress dip beside you, his form slumping to the side with a low grunt, you already miss his warmth.
You breathe heavily, your exhale bordering on a whine warming the covers your face is burrowed in. When your sound gets nothing in return, your breath out softly again, hand searching for John. Just as your hand lands upon his chest, you catch a chuckle before fingers wrap around your wrist. You're tugged sideways, pulled partly onto the chest you'd fumbled your way to feeling. 
Although now looking down at John, you don't see much of him, your hair is mussed enough that most of your vision is covered. A giggle escapes you while a huff of amusement passes through John's nose as he brushes your face clear of its momentary shield.
"There she is", John hums when your gazes lock with nothing in between. There's a tug in the corner of his lip, eyes lidded as he watches you. 
The tilt of his head and craning of his neck is slow. The kiss he initiates is equally deliberate and sweet. Although the exchange is brief, as he parts, John lingers close to your face with his forehead resting against yours, hand brushing over your cheek feathery light.
He murmurs something low enough you can't catch but hum in return nonetheless. A few seconds later, he rises from the bed. As he does, you move to your back, wiggling beneath the sheets to not experience the cold, knowing the sheet must be warmed thanks to your bodies. A content sigh leaves you when you realise you've been right.
As your gaze settles upon John's bare form, rifling around his bag for whatever he's searching for, you can't help how your eyes trail over him. That's how your eyes locate the faint red marks littering his body, some more smudged than others.
Your giggle catches John's attention as he shifts towards you, a pair of boxer briefs now in his hands. But rather than meet his gaze, your eyes flitter over his form, numerous outlines of red lips littered along his lower stomach and groin. Your laughter intensifies, and John follows your line of attention, only to tilt his head upwards again with a smile when he finds what caught your attention.
"You look real pretty with my lipstick all over you", you comment once your laugh fades, head tilting against the pillow behind your head, eyes locking with John's.
"Quiet the artist", he chuckles as he pulls on his underwear.
"It isn't waterproof, so you'll be able to wash it off with water".
"Think about makin' one of 'em into a tattoo". John points to one of the still near-perfect copies of your lips just inside his hipbone and above his waistband. "Make 'em permanent". His wink makes your mouth fall open.
"Please don't!" Your revolt makes him chuckle.
"What do I get if I don't?"
"Me only asking for a pair of pants and not a shirt along with them. And cuddles?" You stretch out your arms towards John with your offer. He huffs a laugh, moving to your bag to dig through it for your underwear.
"Never sayin' no to half-naked cuddles with you, love", you shake your head fondly just before the clothing article you requested is thrown your way.
As John rounds the bed, you lean forward to snatch your panties from the covers. You barely have enough time to slip them on before John, with practised ease, settles into the bed on his side and pulls you close, naked chests pressed against each other.
You sigh in contentment as John's warmth seeps into your body, arms winding around his neck to get closer and being able to graze your nails through the hair on the back of his head, which makes him pull you even closer in return.
The moment drags on as you card fingers through his hair. Every now and then, you feel the gel he'd cursed over as he styled it before the event, still intact at certain places despite the overall moussed state of his locks. 
Somewhere along the way, a hefty, pleased sigh leaves the man holding you as his head burrows into your neck, nuzzling against the necklace still around your throat. Your eyes flutter close upon the rhythmic breaths puffing against your skin, melting more into John's burly body.
"You're awfully cuddly tonight", you hum but make no move to disturb the peaceful air by moving.
"Could say the same about you".
You chuckle at the response breathed against your skin. "Can never get too much of you". A set of warm lips press a kiss to your throat, making you hum contentedly before continuing to speak. "Especially not after tonight when everyone's been fighting for your attention".
There's a few seconds of silence and then a sigh.
"More people goin' to fight for it soon". Your brows pull together at the sudden shift of air when John emerges from your neck, blue eyes locking with yours. "Before introducin' you to Laswell, I got informed we're set out on a mission."
You sighed, nodding at his explanation. It was only about time. "When?
"A week, but it won't be a long one". You perk up at that, John noticing, a small smile tugging in the corner of his lips. "Estimated to be back home before Christmas".
"Yeah?" He hummed an affirmative. Your smile twitched just slightly wider, unable not to press a kiss to his lips. You felt his chuckle just before you parted from him.
"Someone's happy about that". John's brows arched, head tilting to the side.
"Just... didn't have much planned for Christmas this year, so I thought about maybe asking-", you got interrupted by his lips pressing against yours this time. The passion with which John kissed you made your chest flutter.
"Wanted you with me this weekend just in case you had somethin' in the calendar or I wasn't home", he breathed against your lip when putting some distance between the two of you again.
You bite your lower lip, brows raising. "John, are you saying you wanted to ask me about spending Christmas together too?"
"Didn't know if it was an awfully traditional period for you", he said, giving you a half-hearted shrug.
"How sweet of you". You cooed, pecking John's lips, earning yourself a content huff from the man cocooning you with his arms and body. "But I would've wanted to spend some time with you no matter what". As you said this, that handsome smile of John's unfolds as he pulls you on top of him. He released a deep chuckle at your slight squeal, only for both of your sounds to fade as he stared up at you and you down at him.
God, you couldn't wait until Christmas.
573 notes · View notes
koqabear · 2 years
Text
Hey Emo Boy!
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☆ Song suggestion: Emo Boy, Ayesha Erotica ☆
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Summary:
He worked at the Spencer’s store in the mall— you worked at the Claire’s store right in front. What can you say? Match made in heaven. 
bassist!Beomgyu x fem! reader
Genre: opposites attract trope, friends to lovers, fluff, smut
Word count: 9.4K
Warnings: mc dresses like a BIMBO and we love it! mc gets stereotyped a bit, lots of piercings, needles, (bg gets pierced lol) mc has a smiley and nipple piercings, bg has snake bites and a tongue piercing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, cursing, Chaeryeong is a real one
Smut warnings: dom!bg, sub!mc, slight possessiveness, teasing, making out, thigh riding, dirty talk, dumbification, praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nipple play, bg loves mc’s boobs, oral, (f receiving) fingering, hair pulling, bulge kink, scratching, unprotected sex, breeding kink(?), creampie (lemme know if I should add anything!)
Notes: im sorry, but Beomgyu’s long hair era has me in such a chokehold that I think I passed out and wrote this. I’d like to think that in the concert their opener was “Destroya” by mcr (assuming that its their song in this universe) And why yes, I do have a list of other songs they would perform, you can totally go ask me this on my blog! 
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Your friends always said you had an obscure taste in men— you always laughed in their face in response. 
But as you stand behind the Claire’s register, ready to clock back onto a never-ending ten-hour shift of piercing little girl’s ears unprofessionally, you can’t help but be reminded of the thought. 
There he is again, your brain tells you, an involuntary reaction as you pause your actions to glance out into the empty mall; just in time to watch the cute boy with snake bite piercings that works at the store across from you rush inside. 
Honestly, whose idea was it to put a Spencer’s in front of a Claire’s store? It was a mistake waiting to happen— but you indulged in it nonetheless, the convenient placement allowing you to catch a glimpse of one of the workers that captivated you. You’re not sure of his name, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to talk to him— you’ve never gone into a Spencer's, and plan to keep it that way. Honestly, his whole style couldn’t be more opposite than yours, but there was something about him that made you curious, eager for more. 
“Are you staring at that emo boy again?” You jump at the sound of your coworkers voice, startled to find her standing behind you, a knowing look on her face as she shakes her head. “Girl, just go fuck him already.” 
“Shut up!” You balk, glancing around the store in a panic to see if there were any customers around— it was empty, considering it was a Thursday evening, “and no, I wasn’t.” 
“Don’t lie to me,” Chaeryeong says, checking her acrylics absentmindedly, leaning against the counter with a sigh, “you’ve been staring at him all week. You should totally go talk to him.” 
“You think? I don’t know if he’d be into someone like me though,” you look down at your outfit, the complete opposite of what the man in the store across from you sported— while his outfit consisted of dark, edgy outfits, yours were nothing but feminine and cute. 
“Why not? You’re hot,” Chaeryeong’s words bring an uncontrollable swell of confidence to you, and you allow yourself to bask in the compliments that she continues to goad onto you.
“He’s lucky you tone down your fits to suit this place, cause if you didn’t,” she whistles, exaggerating her reaction as you slap her shoulder jokingly, “man, we’d be swamped with customers.” 
“You really think I should try to talk to him?” You ask, biting your lip nervously at the thought; what if he was an asshole? What if he thought you were some superficial bimbo? Was he one of those creeps that thought they were better than women? What if he was gay?
“Stop overthinking things, I can see the questions from here,” Chaeryeong bats at the air mockingly, laughing at the petulant look you give her. Her teasing is interrupted by the motion sensor bell going off, and the two of you are quick to put on your customer-service personas as you turn to face the new customers with a happy smile. 
“Next chance you get, go up and talk to him. Don’t overthink and it’ll go great, I promise,” Chaeryeong whispers to you, leaving you on your own as the mother calls her over to ask a question about the piercings. 
Glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you, you can’t help but let out a sigh of desperation— you really hope she’s right. 
⤬⤬⤬
You decide to make your move on a Friday night. 
It was one of your few days off, and according to Chaeryeong, the cute boy was working tonight. 
You had been quick to throw together a cute outfit as you made your way to the mall— to pay a visit to your friend and your crush. 
The store was just as you had expected— low lights, fandom merch, and a fuck ton of adult products. You were caught off guard by the sight of it all, the stark contrast of the store and your outfit leaving you to stick out uncomfortably— not that anyone seemed to care, thankfully. You were quick to find yourself browsing through the jewelry, uninterested in everything else as you found a couple of cute earrings and necklaces to buy. 
To your disappointment, you had yet to see the cute boy that you had been crushing on; your heart shattered at the thought of you missing your opportunity to talk to him. Yet, just as you were being checked out by another worker, your luck seemed to turn around. 
“Hey, you doing anything tomorrow night?” Your head snapped up in the middle of you taking out your card, surprised to find the cashier asking you this question so suddenly. Behind him, you can see the cute emo boy emerge from the employee room. 
“Uhm, why do you ask?” You try to prolong the conversation as you watch the cute boy make his way up to the counter, your heart beating faster at the thought of you finally getting to talk to him. 
“There’s this band playing at a nearby venue,” the cashier, Yeonjun, his name tag reads, hands you a flyer, your eyes scanning the words as you take in the information printed onto it, “you should definitely go. I’m in it, actually.”
“Yeonjun, you shouldn’t be promoting that while working.” The new voice has you looking up from your flyer quicker than you can process— and to your delight, the cute emo boy stands behind your cashier with a frown on his face. 
Yeonjun narrows his eyes, turning around to look at his coworker. Shaking his head, he clasps the boy on the shoulder as he shakes him around, the boy unfazed as he allows him to do so. 
“Shut up, I think she’d love to go,” sending you a smile, he winks, and you can only manage to smile shakily in return, “he’s a part of it too; the bassist.”
You hope your sudden interest isn’t obvious, but you can’t help the way you perk up at Yeonjun’s words, staring back down at the flyer in your hands with a newfound eagerness— hey, if the music was bad, the worst that could happen is you getting the ick and moving on. 
“I’ll try my best to go,” you say, trying to play it cool as you smile at them; you briefly glance at the cute boy’s name tag— Beomgyu, it reads— and stuff the flyer in your purse, enjoying the way they (mostly Yeonjun— okay, only Yeonjun) seem to beam at your words. 
“Cool, we’ll try to spot you in the crowd,” Yeonjun jokes, handing you your bag filled with jewelry as he not-so-subtly scans your outfit, “from the looks of it, it won’t be too hard.”
Man, was it just you or was it hot in this store? You don’t think you could handle all this attention at once, the sight of Beomgyu giving you a once over making you weak in the knees as you feebly thanked them, promptly scurrying out of the store as you tried to ignore the way you didn’t talk to him— baby steps, you reassure yourself. 
You’re practically stumbling into Claire’s as if it were a safe space; and if Chaeryeong was there, then it was. You briefly scan the store before you spot her red hair, running up to her excitedly as you shove the crumpled banner in her face. 
“Seriously?” Is all she can muster to say, staring at the flyer blankly before she looks back at you, quirking a brow as if to challenge your decisions, “I told you to go fuck him, not support his fleeting dreams.” 
“I know…” you pout, deflating at her disapproving look, “but I don’t think it would be that easy! He seems like a cold guy, like you have to get to know him before he lowers his guard…” 
“Are you listening to yourself?” She says, checking herself in the mirror as she begins to restock the phone cases, “I worry about you sometimes.” 
“Come on, hear me out!” You whine, ignoring the dirty looks the moms in the store give you, clearly displeased with your revealing outfit, (cons to living in such a conservative town, you suppose) “you can’t deny that he’s cute.” 
“Yeah, but the most I’d do is hookup like, once,” she says, glancing around the store to make sure no customers were around to hear her, “you’re trying to play the long game.” 
“Am not!” You say, ignoring the way your body flushes hotly at the accusation— okay, you’re pretty down bad for him; so what?
“But uhm, Chae…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence, trailing off softly as you find yourself too nervous to ask. But with one glance back at you, she knows exactly what you’re trying to say— she sighs. 
“You want me to go with you, don't you?” 
Sending her your most convincing smile, you bat your lashes in hopes to convince her, clinging onto her as you let out a small “pleeeease?” She pauses, narrowing her eyes at your behavior before she scoffs, finally giving in as she goes back to restocking items. 
“You’re insufferable.” 
⤬⤬⤬
To say that you’re surprised by the attendance would be an understatement. 
The place is packed— it was hard enough to get tickets to the venue, and your efforts to buy tickets early were not in vain, despite Chaeryeong's teasing. You’re pulling her along eagerly, fingers laced tightly with hers as you squeeze your way towards the front of the stage; you’re able to sneak through a good amount of people, but aren’t able to get that close to the stage, to your disappointment. There’s no place to sit, much to Chaeryeong’s annoyance, but you’d like to blame her onslaught of complaints on the heels that she chose to wear instead.
“What kind of band even are they,” Chaeryeong mutters, scanning the crowd as she takes in the way the two of you accidentally stand out— the mass of black clashing with your sparkling outfits, “did you even listen to their music beforehand?” 
“To like, one song, yeah,” you say, unashamed as you ignore the look a person casts at you, clearly listening in to your conversations, “I dunno, I think they’re just a rock band. I think you’ll like them.”
“Probably not, this isn’t really my taste,” she says, throwing a dirty look to the person that pushes roughly past her to try to get closer to the stage, “you’re just lucky I love you.” 
But before you can ridicule Chaeryeong for her statement, you finally see the lights dimming down, left in the dark as the announcer finally calls the band onto the stage— Tomorrow by Together. 
The crowd goes wild by the announcement, jumping excitedly and jostling you and your friend around as they all try to record the members and get a good angle. You had no idea they were this popular— hell, if you were them, you’d quit everything to pursue music by now. The crowd is chanting their names eagerly, and you’re left in awe as they all take their positions behind each instrument. 
There are two guitarists— you’re able to recognize Yeonjun as one of them. You looked up the rest of the members on your way here, and by process of elimination, the other man who was currently picking up his guitar would be Hueningkai. 
The cute guy with dimples sends a heart to the crowd before going to where his keyboard is placed; that’s Soobin, if you remember right. Leaving you with Taehyun, who doesn’t bother to wave to the crowd as he picks up his drumsticks eagerly, shifting comfortably on the seat as he waits patiently for the show to start. 
And lastly, Beomgyu enters the stage and beelines to the bass— you’re surprised to find that he’s dyed his hair, the highlights getting hit by the stage lights brilliantly as he adjusts his earpiece, waiting patiently for the leader— Soobin, you think it is— to start the performance. 
You can barely hear what they’re saying over the excited cheers around you, and you can feel Chaeryeong gripping onto your arm in fear that you’ll be lost in the crowd. Glancing behind her, you send her an excited smile, unable to contain your laugh as you take in her nervous expression. 
“You’re insane!” 
“What?” You yell back, leaning in as the crowd begins to cheer louder— probably in response to something they said. You glance back at the stage in curiosity, but turn back to check on your friend as she leans back into your ear, repeating the words as she rolls her eyes at your amused reaction. 
“Do you want to leave then?” 
“And leave you here alone? No way—!” Her words are cut off by the clicks of drumsticks, and the crowd is quick to push each other around as the music begins to fill the venue, successfully taking your attention off your friend as your head snaps back to the stage. 
You can still feel the grip of Chaeryeong’s acrylics as you keep your fingers laced tightly with hers, but you quickly find yourself moving with the crowd as you watch the five on stage perform— and to your surprise, you find yourself enjoying the music a lot more than you anticipated. 
It’s just as you expected— rock, emo, or punk-rock if you remember right. But you can’t take your eyes off the way they all seem to be so immersed in the music, moving around just as much as the crowd before them. You’re surprised to find that each one of the members has a mic, and as you watch Beomgyu, you find yourself eager to hear his voice. 
He’s mesmerizing, a thin sheen of sweat coating him as his bangs stick to his forehead, a hand coming up to quickly adjust his earpiece before he’s back on the bass, fingers moving so swiftly you think you might just be hypnotized. You can feel your heart beating faster as you watch him step closer to his mic, eyes scanning the crowd absentmindedly as he waits for his part; they stop for a moment, and you swear that he spots you in the crowd. 
His brows furrow as he begins to sing, and you swear that you might just feel weak in the knees. His voice is deep and raspy as he sings his part, and you can see Chaeryeong laughing at your reaction in the corner of your eye— man, this venue suddenly seemed a lot more stuffy than it was three seconds ago. 
And despite Chaeryeong’s conditions that you wouldn’t stay for the whole show, you do just that— your feet ache, and your makeup has been sweated off, but you don’t regret a single thing as you stumble out of the venue, your hearing muffled and your throat sore from cheering. 
“That wasn’t so bad,” you smile, glancing at your friend as you take in her distraught state— her hair was frizzy, and her makeup was also sweated off, but unlike you, she didn’t seem too pleased about it.
“For you maybe,” she grumbles, clutching onto you as she grumbles about how sore her feet are under her breath, “At least you had your eye candy to look at.” 
“Yeah, well thanks for coming with me Chae,” you say, hugging her tightly despite her protests, “I’ll get that girl from Auntie Anne's number for you as repayment.”
“No, let me do that myself,” she says, pushing herself off you as she tries to hide her fond smile, “but what I really want right now is a drink. And to rest.” 
“Back to my place?” You say, already knowing her answer as you finally find your car, flopping on the seats with rough sighs as you finally allow your feet to rest. 
“Yes please.” 
Chaeryeong allows you to ramble about your thoughts on the band all the way home. 
⤬⤬⤬
The next time you see Beomgyu is on your break. 
It’s a Tuesday afternoon and the mall is practically empty— considering that school has already started and all the kids are locked up in school. You’re sitting at the corner table of Auntie Anne’s, chewing mindlessly on your pretzel nuggets as you text Chaeryeong and tease her for chickening out on talking to her crush— in the end, she was no better than you. She isn’t working today, which is probably why time is passing so slowly— even your break seems to stretch by slowly. 
It isn’t until you hear the sound of a chair scraping along the tiles that you look up from your phone. 
Oh god, you’re already getting nervous— because Beomgyu’s a table away from you, staring down at his phone as well with his headphones on. You’re trying hard not to stare, so you resort to panicking and text Chaeryeong about your situation, to which she can only threaten you to talk to him.
Chae <3
Swear to god if you don’t talk to him ill do it for u
And it wont be pretty 
What if he doesn’t wanna talk? You text her, anxiously biting at your lip as you watch the message bubble up, her typing as slow as ever as you glance back up at Beomgyu, then back at the clock, calculating just how long you have before you need to leave.
Chae <3
Talk to him about his band duh
Everyone loves talking about themselves
Now shoo
You brightened up at that— of course! Who wouldn’t want to hear about themselves? And with this conversation started, you picked up your cup of pretzels, taking a deep breath before you found the courage to walk up to him. 
“Do you mind if I sit here?” You mentally facepalm at how stupid you sound, but you’ll let it slide as Beomgyu looks up at you, taking a second to pause his music before he gives you a blank look, eyebrows raising slightly as he finally seems tor recognizes you.
“Sure, I guess,” is all he says, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed at his response; or rather, his lack of interest. He gives you a curious look, and you know that he’s waiting for you to explain why the hell you decided to interrupt him during his break— you’re nervous, fidgeting in your seat as you smile sweetly at him. (God, he was intimidating up close.)
“I went to your uh, concert last weekend,” you hold back a smile as you watch the way he perks up at that, a lot more interested in what you have to say as he leans forward.
“Really? Didn’t think you’d be into that type of stuff,” he says, scanning your outfit teasingly, looking at your hot pink hello kitty zip up, to the cute jeans that had hearts on the back pockets; but mostly, your face said it all— that you weren’t one to listen to that kind of music at all. 
“Well you’d be surprised,” you say, pouting slightly at his words. You’re fidgeting with your necklace, and you pretend to remain oblivious to the way Beomgyu watches your every movement, eyes stuck to the way the cute pendant falls perfectly on your chest when you let it go, “you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, or whatever they say.” 
Beomgyu lets out a laugh at that, and you can’t hide the way that it catches you off guard. It seems genuine, and his eyes are crinkling cutely as he smiles, shaking his head in amusement at your words. It’s almost contagious, and you can’t help the way you crack a small smile as well. 
“You got me there,”  he says, glancing back at the clock, prompting you to do so as well��� you shudder, seeing that you have five minutes left. “Well what’d you think?” 
Narrowing your eyes, you take a second before you respond; you can tell he’s waiting for you to gush over him. 
“It was okay, I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you pop one of your pretzels in your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick away the sugar left on your lips, and your stomach swirls in excitement as Beomgyu follows your movements, “Yeonjun’s voice was really nice.”  
“Really?” Beomgyu taunts you, a knowing smirk growing on his face as he realizes what you’re doing. 
“Anything else?”
“Hmmm… oh! The other guitarist was super cute,” you shamelessly say, popping another pretzel in your mouth as you hum in appreciation of its taste, “come to think of it, so was the drummer— oh, so was the guy on the keys.” 
“Interesting,” He says mockingly, leaning in as he tilts his head questioningly, tongue prodding at his lip rings as he asks, “what’d you think of the bassist?” 
“Hmm? The bassist?” You question, huffing in disappointment as you realized you’ve finished all your pretzels. Rubbing your fingertips to rid the sugary dust, you can’t help yourself as you pop a finger into your mouth, licking off the residue as you finally stand, surprised to find that you need to clock back on. Beomgyu watches you, unable to take his eyes off the way your tongue swirls across your thumb, your necklace hanging teasingly as you reach to zip your jacket back up. Eyes snapping back to yours, you send him a small smile, expression earnest as you say, 
“Oh, I wouldn't know— I’m not into that type of stuff.” 
⤬⤬⤬
You’re eager to tell Chaeryeong about your interaction the first chance you get. 
“Ouuu you’re such a tease! You’ve definitely got him interested now,” she squeals, taking your hands in hers as she jumps in excitement. You’re about to go on your break, heart beating with excitement at the thought of getting to see Beomgyu again— your shifts are usually aligned, so who’s to say your breaks couldn’t be as well?
“You think I might see him today?” You voice your thoughts out loud, glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you— it’s dim, and you can barely make out anything in there, but you swore you saw the familiar head of long shaggy hair pass by the entrance.
“You just might,” your friend says, grinning at you as she encourages you to take your break— you linger at the entrance in hopes that you might spot Beomgyu taking his break as well. Making your way back to Auntie Anne’s (it was the only place where you could get your food quick enough) you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to look like a lost puppy patiently waiting for its owner. 
By the time you had ten minutes left to your break, you had lost hope, your eyes glued to your phone and music blasting in your ears as you texted your friends. Laughing at one of their responses to your crush, you rolled your eyes, reaching to grab another pretzel nugget— only to grab at the air stupidly. 
You frown as you look up from your phone, only to be met with the sight of Beomgyu sitting comfortably across from you, your cup of pretzels in his hands— how long had he been sitting there?
“How long have you been there?” You’re quick to echo your own mind, reaching out to take back your pretzels from the boy. He shrugs, glancing at the clock, only to leave you without a proper answer. 
“Not that long,” is all he gives you, enjoying the way you genuinely want to know. You’re silent, and you watch as he becomes slightly nervous, eyes avoiding yours as he reaches for his pocket— he wants to tell you something. 
“I actually wanted to uhm— give you these,” slowly, he slides something across the table, and it takes you a second to realize what it is, “They’re tickets to our next show. You really seemed to enjoy the other one, so I wanted to invite you to this one— with better seats, too.”
Your mouth is hanging at the two VIP tickets, unable to say anything before his words click in your mind. 
“Wait— you saw me? At the last show?” You watch as he flushes at your words, but honestly, you’re the one that should be embarrassed— you were kinda hoping he hadn’t noticed your excited self back at his concert. 
“Well, it was hard to not notice you,” his excuse is pointless as he looks back up at you, at the cute flustered expression you sport—it somehow manages to bring about a small wave of confidence as he adds, “it was cute to see you enjoy yourself.” 
“Oh,” you know you sound lame, but you can’t help it— not with the way his narrowed eyes stare teasingly at you, head cocked to the side as he waits for you to say something— but you don’t, staring down at your pretzels shyly as you listen to him chuckle; oh, where did your confidence from last time go?
“Wait, I have to ask,” you say, the question you thought of a few days ago popping back into your mind, “how come you work here if your band is so popular? You seem to be doing well.”
“Ah, that,” Beomgyu seems to become shy at your question, rubbing at his nape nervously as his eyes flit down onto the table, “well, we aren’t signed under a label yet… so it’s not really a stable income; this job is more of a side hustle just in case.” 
“Ah, I see,” you say, wondering just how much he makes from playing in venues— considering that he has to be working here, (which you aren’t complaining about, honestly) it must not be enough. 
“Well, I can’t wait for this next show,” you beam at him, taking the two tickets as you glance at the time, sad to see that your thirty minutes are up. “Come pay me a visit sometime, I work right across from you, you know.” 
You’re sure it’s unlikely, but as you walk back to your workplace, the stand of cute Squishmallows greeting you as you go to clock back in, you’re unable to contain your bright grin of excitement as you flash Chaeryeong the two VIP tickets. (much to her dismay.)
⤬⤬⤬
Beomgyu is making his way to your store. 
“The emo boy is coming over,” Chaeryeong tells you, not giving you much of a warning before she dips to the back— to give you a moment, she tells you shamelessly— leaving you alone and vulnerable to the sight of the cute boy appearing out of nowhere. 
It had been almost a week since you had asked him to visit you— ever since then, the two of you would try to time your breaks together, spending the time talking about music and growing closer; you even got to exchange numbers. 
But you hadn’t been expecting him to take your last comment seriously, especially not before the day you would be seeing him perform. But here he is, walking up to your store with other shopping bags in his hands, dressed in his usual dark attire. His eyes met yours, and you swore you saw a small amused twitch in his lips. 
“Didn’t think you’d actually step a foot in here,” you say, holding back a smile at the way he clashes against the cute store— is this what you looked like in his environment? The thought was enough to give away your amusement, despite the cold front you tried to display.
“Never judge a book by its cover,” he says, echoing your words as he watches you grin shamelessly, his eyes latching onto a piece of jewelry that caught his eye. “Nice smiley, did you get it done here?”
Scoffing, you can’t stop the laugh that escapes at his ridiculous words. 
“As if, I wouldn’t trust this place to do a regular ear-piercing,” you say, looking back at your piercing station in dismay. 
Beomgyu says nothing, even when you throw him a questioned look. 
“How much for the piercings?” 
“What— You can’t be serious,” you say, gawking at him in disbelief as you look at his ears, “you have multiple piercings! You should know better than to get it done here!” 
Beomgyu shrugs, looking at himself in the mirror as he looks at the said piercings— brushing his hair back, he reaches up to rub at the only empty spot on his lobes.
“Yeah, but I don’t have my upper lobes done yet.” 
“Beomgyu,” you whine, unaware of the way his name rolls off your tongue so nicely. He shivers, eyes darkening as he looks back up at you, much more determined to do it now that you’re acting like this. “I don’t want your ears to get fucked up on my behalf—your fans would hate me…” 
“Well, the customer is always right,” he grins, knowing just how much the two of you hated that phrase, “and the customer wants this pretty worker to do his upper lobes— with these hello kitty earrings as well.” 
Oh, he’s good, you hate how easily you’re going to give in to him; you don’t think you can put up much of a fight anymore, at least not with the way he’s looking at you and complimenting you. 
“Go sit in the chair,” you sigh, seemingly defeated as you follow him to the piercing station. In the corner of your eye, you watch Chaeryeong slowly peek through the door, only to see the scene before her and quickly hide back inside. 
“Just know that I’m not the one that usually does piercings,” you add, snickering at the way Beomgyu frowns at your confession. “Yeah, I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen to me.”
“It’s okay, I’ll be happy to give you more experience,” he says, and you’re thankful that you’re able to hide behind him because holy fuck, you’re probably a mess right now. Hesitantly, you reach out to his hair— it’s in the way, you think to yourself, unsure if he’ll be bothered if you touch it.
“You can move my hair if you need to,” he says, as though he were able to read your every thought. You jump at his sudden comment, clearing your throat as you nod, before realizing that you’re standing behind him, and that he probably can’t see you right now. So you simply mutter an “okay”, hoping that he can’t see how shaky your hands are as you reach out to move his hair. 
Softly, you reach out to his shoulder, brushing back his hair as you inspect his pierced ears— you ignore the way your fingertips accidentally brush against his skin, and you especially try to ignore the way he shudders at your actions. You take your time to mark where you’ll put each piercing, and after double-checking with Beomgyu, you finally get ready to pierce his ears. 
Reluctantly, you put on gloves, slowly going through all the sanitation steps as you walk Beomgyu through it and tell him how to care for his piercing— you’re sure he doesn’t need to hear this, honestly— yet it’s still your job to say it.
“Take a deep breath in,” it’s accidental, but you’re using your customer service on him, and you’re sure he notices; that is, if the small quirk of his lips is any giveaway. Slowly, you adjust the piercing gun, taking a deep breath in yourself in hopes that you won’t fuck up; it’s irrational, but you can’t help but be afraid. But you pull through, and as your fingers squeeze together, you watch the needle go through his ear. 
“There’s one,” you say reassuringly, pulling away to check your work. All he manages is a small wince, which is a nice contrast to the usual wailing and annoyed moms that you get on the daily. Turning to the other side, you find yourself no longer nervous, pulling back his hair without a second thought as you start sanitizing the new side as well. You barely hesitate before you’re passing the needle through his ear, smiling at the way he only flinches at the feeling. 
“Good job!” You say automatically, unable to stop yourself as the customer service mode had taken over you completely. But it doesn’t seem to phase Beomgyu, because he doesn’t comment on it even as you take him to the register to pay.
“I look pretty, don’t I?” He asks, tilting his head in the mirror to look at his new hello kitty piercings. It’s a stark difference to the rest of his jewelry, but you can’t help but agree wholeheartedly with him.
“They’re super cute, I’m kinda jealous,” you say, much to Beomgyu’s surprise. 
“Well, maybe your friend could pierce them,” he says, glancing behind you, and at the employee area, “if she finally decides to come out.”
Beomgyu is very annoying— it’s a realization that dawns on you as he sports a smug look, clearly pleased with the way he manages to fluster you with just a few words. But even as he bids you goodbye, reminding you to come to his show tomorrow, you can’t deny the way your heart saddens to watch him go so soon. 
Oh, you’re down bad. 
⤬⤬⤬
The new venue is much nicer than the last one— it catches you off guard by how nice it is. (It really makes you wonder how much money they each contribute to afford such places)
Chaeryeong is trailing behind you reluctantly, her cute heels from last time swapped out for much more comfortable sneakers. Though she complained to you about going to such a rough event again, you could tell that she was much more pleased when the sight of assigned seats greeted her— not that it wasn’t stated on the ticket, you had muttered to her sarcastically.
You could tell that you were getting strange looks from others— after all, you decided not to conform to their style. It wasn’t really you, so why do it? So instead of trying something new, you decided to stick to your cute pink outfits, dressed in a denim skirt that honestly, wasn’t covering much, the same hello kitty jacket you wore when you first talked to Beomgyu being sported once more as you layer it over a thin tank top, your cute Demonia camel-311’s adding an extra bit of height as you make it all the way down to the VIP section— front and center. 
You’re practically buzzing in your seat from excitement as you wait for the concert to begin, eagerly chatting with Chaeryeong who could only do so much to calm you down. After what seems like an eternity of waiting, the audience lights finally dim, and you’re left in anticipation for the band to come out. 
It still feels like you’re listening to them for the first time again as you watch them perform, your new closeness to the stage allowing them all to spot you easily— they all end up sending Beomgyu knowing looks at some point, unbeknownst to you. 
And as you finally make eye contact with Beomgyu, you grin at him excitedly, waving at him as he nods in recognition, a smile breaking across his face as he sees you. And though you finally look away from him, much more distracted by Soobin as he begins to sing, he can’t help but watch you, mesmerized as you seem to be enjoying yourself wholly. (Though he couldn’t say the same for your friend, who mostly seemed to be there for emotional support as she helped steady you.) 
You just seemed so happy. And it made Beomgyu’s heart jump excitedly at the thought of it being because of his band. You were even singing along, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but watch you fondly, shamelessly staring at you even when it was his turn to sing and your gaze turned back to him. He met your eyes eagerly, and you almost felt as though the rest of the crowd disappeared as he sang, raspy voice soothing to your ears as you tried to push away the incessant fluttering of your heart. 
You stared at him even when it was no longer his part, watching in awe as he played the bass like it was second nature. Meeting his eyes once more, you couldn’t help the way your eyes flit to his ears, the flash of the jewelry bringing your attention to the cute hello kitty studs he wore; you pointed at your ears eagerly, and he seems to realize what you’re referring to as he sweeps his hair back, allowing you to take in the piercings properly; they’re healing surprisingly well.
The concert seems to pass by much quicker than you’d like— and you’re left with nothing but the muffled feeling in your ears and the dwindling adrenaline as you reluctantly make your way back to the entrance. You almost make it out, but you’re stopped last minute as a security guard approaches the two of you, asking you for to confirm your identities to him. 
“Beomgyu would like to see you,” he says, pointing at you as he reads your ID. You’re surprised, blinking owlishly as you take in his words, unsure if he’s messing with you as you say, 
“… Me?”
“Yes, if you could please follow me,” the security guard waits for you to come after him, but he seems to notice the way you hesitate and turn back to your friend with uncertainty. “She can wait in the VIP lobby if she’d like, but I was told to bring you specifically backstage.” 
It seems like something clicks for Chaeryeong as she lets out a small “ahhh,” in understanding, pushing you towards the security guard as you turn to her with wide eyes, surprised at her actions. 
“Go ahead! The VIP lounge has drinks,” she encourages you, rolling her eyes with every protest and “are you sure?” that leaves your mouth. “Yes I’m sure! Now go!” 
Reluctantly, you leave your friend behind in the VIP lounge, watching her get comfortable at the bar as she asks the bartender for a drink. The backstage area is a lot quieter than you’d thought it would be— it’s practically silent the moment you enter the area, the boys all probably tired and ready to go home after such a performance. But you’re in awe nonetheless, looking from door to door as the security guard finally guides you to the last one— Beomgyu’s dressing room, it seems. 
Knocking on it tentatively, you anxiously wait for Beomgyu to open up as the guard stands behind you; you really hope he wasn't messing with you.
“Hmm? Who is it?” You can hear the grogginess in Beomgyu’s voice as the door barely opens, his head slowly peeking out before it's met with the sight of your sheepish smile. 
“Ah, you can come in,” he gestures to you, suddenly much more awake as he glances back to the security guard, “you’re good to go, thank you.”
You’re restless as the door is shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the small dressing room as you patiently wait for Beomgyu to tell you why he brought you here. 
“___,” you look at him, surprised to find your name slipping from his lips so easily. He’s smiling, suddenly much more energized as he tells you, “we just signed with a record label. We’re set.”
You’re elated, his joy contagious as you take a second to process his words— he laughs, and you can’t help but share his laugh as you run to him, enveloping him into a tight hug that he gladly accepts, the smoky scent of his cologne lingering despite his change of clothes. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but it just feels right as you mutter a “congratulations” into the fabric of his shirt, nuzzling into his neck with a smile stuck on your face.
Pulling away from him, you’re reluctant to leave this small space that the two of you created; you can tell he feels the same, hands lingering at your forearms as he keeps you close, eyes fond as he watches the way your eyes sparkle under the lights of the room. 
“Does this mean you’re quitting your job at the mall?” You joke, cracking a smile that Beomgyu sees past— you don’t think you’re ready to watch him leave just yet. 
“Yes,” he says, honest words leaving him as he tugs you in closer, unable to look away from your glossy lips as he finds himself leaning in closer, his voice much quieter as he says, “but I’ll still visit now and then.” 
It’s not the perfectly romantic and corny line you were expecting, but it’s enough to prompt you to crash your lips with his, the weeks of tension and feelings that had built up between the two of you finally crashing down as you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of him. He’s quick to kiss you back, the feeling rough and new as his snake bite piercings press against your flesh, a small sigh escaping you as you feel him nip at your lips. 
His arms have encased your waist and pulled you in tight, your body pressed flush against his and your hands splayed across his chest as he practically forces you to lean against him, his fingertips itching to explore your body further.
“Fuck, I couldn’t stand seeing you out there in your cute little skirt,” he groans, slotting a thigh between yours as he runs his fingers along the hem of your skirt, “made me scared someone else would try to make a move on you.”
“No, wore this just for you,” you confess, breathless and whiny as you grind on his thigh, the thin fabric of your panties doing nothing to hide just how aroused you were. He laughs at that, the sound airy and mocking as he guides your hips on his thigh, pushing you down on it more as he takes in the sounds that tumble messily from your lips. 
Placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you yelp at the way he angles your hips, clenching his thigh and bouncing it under you as your sensitive clit rubs and bumps against him messily. You’re practically delirious as you reach a hand down to move your panties aside, the stimulation not enough for you as you finally allow your bare cunt to come in contact with him.
“I can’t believe this,” he groans, watching the way a wet spot slowly begins to form over the place you continue to grind against, “my stupid girl, all fucked up over my thigh? Poor baby won’t be able to take my cock, then.” 
“No, I can take it,” you protest, your mind reeling from the pleasure that Beomgyu gives you— you can feel your stomach tightening with every clench of his thigh, the muscle pressing against you nicely, “Please, I can take it, please…” 
“You really think you can?” He asks, leaning to trail kisses down the column of your neck, “why don’t you come on my thigh, then we’ll see if you really can.” 
You’re nodding desperately for his approval, shirt clenched tightly in your fists as you work yourself up to your high, the feeling of his muscles pressing against you bringing you closer much quicker. With a particularly harsh bounce of his thigh, your mouth falls open, Beomgyu’s grip on your hips ruthless as he forces you down on him, guiding you through it as slowly come down from the blissful feeling. 
“Good girl, following my orders like that,” he mumbles, enjoying the way your shaking hands grip onto him helplessly. Gently, he guides you to the couch, allowing you to fall on it as he slowly begins to undress you, your grabby hands pulling at his shirt until he’s throwing it over his head. 
“Oh god—" he holds back a groan as he takes off your bra, suddenly finding it much harder to contain himself at the cute sight, his hands immediately finding their place on your breasts as he gulps. 
“Baby, I had no idea you pierced these,” he says, pretty fingers playing with the piercings on your nipples as you whine at the stimulation. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? They’re so pretty…” 
Beomgyu is mesmerized as you lay before him, a needy and panting mess as you let him play with your tits crudely, allowing him to pinch and roll the pierced nipples until they’re hardened. Slowly, he leans down to wrap his mouth around one of them, tongue darting out to lick at them as you gasp, back arching as you realize—
“Fuck, is your tongue pierced?” You gasp, watching the way Beomgyu sits up with a mischievous grin on his face. 
“Looks like we’re all full of surprises here,” he says, trailing kisses down your body before he finally stops at your navel, glancing back up as he says, “I’ve always heard it feels better when you get eaten out by someone with a piercing— wanna test it out?”
You’re ready to say every curse word in existence as Beomgyu dives down without a second thought, warm mouth wrapping around you and the feeling of his tongue— paired by his piercing— sends you into an overstimulated mess, still having yet to recover as you thread your hands into his hair, weakly attempting to pull him away from you before he’s pinning your hips down, his tongue insistent as he flicks it across your clit ruthlessly. 
“Beomgyu…” you whine out, body too sensitive to stay still, yet still begging for more as you thread your fingers tighter into his scalp, tugging harshly— the sting brings out a crude groan from him.
Slowly, you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, an airy chuckle leaving him as he takes in the way you’re dripping wet for him. Pulling away, he watches as two of his fingers slide in easily, opening up inside you as he slowly begins to stretch them out inside you, biting at his lip at the way you clench around him. 
Leaning back down, he lays his tongue flat on your clit, enjoying the way you shake under him as he sets a brutally slow pace for you. 
“Enjoying yourself?” He taunts, unable to stop himself as his free hand reaches up to play with your nipples, still amazed at the cute piercings that had been hiding from him all along. You’re nodding along, though he’s not entirely sure you processed what he just asked from the way you’re so lost in the pleasure— which Beomgyu is more than happy to deliver more of. His tongue flicking across your clit paired with the quickened pace of his fingers is what sets you off, the stimulation too much for you the moment Beomgyu begins to tug at your nipple piercings teasingly. 
“Beomgyu please,” you plead, using your fingers that were threaded in his hair to pull him up, your lips briefly meeting his as you take in the taste of yourself— his tongue darts into your mouth as you allow him to coat your tongue with your own release, the teasing bites that he leaves you with as he pulls away making you whine stupidly. 
“So fucking pretty,” he mutters under his breath, staring down at your fucked out form as he finally releases himself from his restraints, his cock painfully hard and leaking as he kneels over you, “Wanna make you all mine. Keep you to myself.”
His words are an alluring promise as he slowly pushes into you, leaving kisses and bites all along your collarbones as you do the same to him. You sigh as he bottoms out, hips meeting yours as he takes your hand to place it on your abdomen.
“Do you feel that?” He asks, pressing his hand on top of yours as he slowly pulls out, a broken moan leaving you as you realize that fuck, you can. With every slow thrust you can feel every vein, his hand that remains on top of yours adding onto the pleasure as you feel him through your stomach as well.
“God, you make it so hard for me to hold myself back,” he groans, closing his eyes as you clench tightly around him, the warm feeling of your walls wrapping around him pushes him to his limits, the sounds that leave your lips only adding on to the mess.
“Don’t,” you breathe out, eyes dazed as they meet Beomgyu’s, “Don’t hold back— please.”
With one final look in your eyes, Beomgyu shakes his head, leaning down to plant a kiss to your lips before he’s taking your leg, bringing it up to press against your chest as it allows him to fuck you in a deeper angle. His pace is ruthless as he gives in to your request, the combination of his length and the stretch of his cock leaving your mind empty in a matter of seconds. 
“Fuck, be quiet baby,” he grits out, slapping a hand over your mouth in panic as you let out a particularly loud moan, the reminder of his other bandmates being nearby bringing about a rush of adrenaline— he didn’t want anyone else to hear the sounds you made. 
Your muffled whimpers and whines still managed to leak through Beomgyu’s hand, your body getting pressed down into the couch with the force that Beomgyu fucks you with. Your hands scrambled to find someplace to steady yourself on, quickly finding purchase on Beomgyu’s shoulders, your nails raking down his back accidentally as his cock pressed against a sensitive spot— you were only egged on by the surprised moan he let out by that. 
“God, you feel so…” he hisses as your nails dig into his skin, the stinging feeling making him pry your hands away from him as he pins them down, your fingers lacing with his immediately as he uses this to fuck into you harder. His lips crash against yours the moment you begin to get too loud again, and you accept the distraction gratefully as you relish in the feeling of his piercings against your skin. 
This new angle allowed for his hips to crash against your clit, the rough hits making you closer to your end as you clenched tightly around him, the feeling enough of a warning for Beomgyu as he continued to fuck you ruthlessly. Your nails dig into his hands as he begins to hit your sensitive spot repeatedly, your high crashing down on you unexpectedly as you clamp down on Beomgyu’s cock. 
He helps you ride through it, slowing his pace into nothing but a grind as he presses his hips against yours, placing relentless kisses on your lips as soft praise leaves him, the words not quite reaching you as you come down from your high. 
“Gyu,” you whimper, and Beomgyu thinks he might just come then and there, “keep going.” 
“More?” He asks, incredulous at your request, “fuck, you still want more?”
Nodding, you squeeze his hands as you innocently say, “want you to finish inside me.” 
God, you have no idea what you do to him. Your words hit him like a freight train as he feels his cock twitch inside you, shaking his head in disbelief at your request— how could you say something like that so sweetly? It’s like you were doing it on purpose. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up until you can only think of me,” he says, his words drawing out a whimper from you as he begins to move once more, no longer hesitant as he watches the way your face contorts from the pleasure and over stimulation. Your words are all he can think of as he watches you try your best to be quiet, biting at your lips and failing as he presses his cock deep inside you, every drag and thrust he delivers making your eyes roll back in bliss. 
You might even be drooling at this point— but you don’t really care, at least not with the way Beomgyu is fucking you so nicely. You can feel his pace stutter as he lets out soft moans, hands untangling from yours as he sits up, placing his hands on your hips and angling them up as he uses you to his liking, the new angle making you slap your hands over your mouth— you’re sure something humiliating would have left your mouth if you hadn’t done so. 
His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips as his brows furrow, concentrated on chasing pleasure as his eyes flit back to you— to your watery eyes, your hands clasped over your mouth panic despite the sounds that leak through, and your breasts that bounce back and forth with each thrust. 
He can tell that a new orgasm is beginning to build in you, and he’s determined to make the coil snap as he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit, leaning over to whisper nothing but the filthiest things imaginable, a grin overtaking his face as he feels the way you’re quick to catch up to him, your trembling figure telling him all he needs to know.
“Come on darling, don’t you want me to fill you up? You’d look so pretty with my cum dripping between your thighs, I’ll make sure everyone will know you’re mine. Go ahead, come on my cock.” He’s rambling at this point, but it’s enough to set you off as you cum on him once more, the pathetic whine of his name enough to set him off as he follows close behind you, his thrusts sloppy and rough before he stills, filling you to the brim as your hands find themselves running down his back once more, the sting of pain mixing into his pleasure as his head drops onto your neck, the heavy feeling of his breaths against your neck the only thing that grounds you from your high. 
He’s careful as he maneuvers the two of you to lay down, having yet to pull out of you as the slow trickle of his cum escaping from you makes you shiver. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he pulls you in for another slow kiss, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his lips, the two of you turning into a giddy mess in each other’s arms.
“I was waiting for the day I could kiss you like this,” he mumbles against your lips, the confession making you push against his chest in embarrassment, allowing him to pull you back in with a laugh. The two of you stay like that for a moment longer, and you actually think you could fall asleep like this—
“Oh my god, Chaeryeong!”
At the call of your friend’s name, Beomgyu groans, throwing an arm over his eyes as he asks, “she’s still here?”
“Yes!” You can tell that Beomgyu doesn’t understand why you’re panicking, but you feel absolutely terrible that you made her wait outside in the lobby while you— you…
“Gyu, I gotta go,” you whine, trying to pry yourself from his grip as you look around his dressing room, spotting a rag and a spray bottle filled with water that you could use to clean yourself up. “I have the day off tomorrow, just come over then.” 
“Can I? You promise?” Is all he says, unable to let you go as you try to rush to clean up. Turning back to him, you adjust your shirt, laughing at the way he seems to be eager for your response. 
“Promise,” you say, leaning down to give him a final goodbye kiss; it’s enticing when he tries to lure you in with more, but you know better as you collect your things, bidding him a final goodbye as you exit his room, allowing yourself to be escorted by security guards as you do the walk of shame. (Shame was actually not enough to describe what you felt— what you felt was much deeper, the realization that everyone probably heard you leaving you unable to look up from the floor.)
Yet even as you’re reuniting with Chaeryeong with a sheepish smile, you can’t help but feel the way your heart flutters at the feeling of your phone being flooded with messages.
Gyu:
Send me ur address pls
Would it be weird if I just come over rn
Say no so I can come over
You shook your head as you read through the messages, not noticing the way Chaeryeong peeked over teasingly.
“See, I told you— you were playing the long game.”
Yet this time, you couldn’t really deny her— because maybe you really were all along.  
⤬⤬⤬
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beetlesau · 3 months
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Bus Ride, Drabble Dabble, Bakugo/Reader
I'm obsessed with the idea that Bakugo would go feral for a woman that's as normie as his dad just because his mom CHASED his dad DOWN because she wanted him, And Bakugo is his moms twin. ANYWAY. Just messing around with a tame version of that idea. Being bored. Zero Edits, I don't even know if I spelt names correctly lol K Baaiiiii
"Why does your hair look like that?" Mineta peaked over the bus seat down at you. You instinctually pulled the collar of your shirt up to cover any cleavage that could have been showing from that view. 
You sighed, it was a common question back in school before UA. You'd been made fun of for it for as long as you could remember, but you never cared. It was your second year at UA, you'd thought someone would have said something sooner than now, but here you were. You made an obvious glance up at Mineta's purple grapelike head before bringing your attention back to his face. 
"Same reason yours looks like that, I guess. Our quirk just made us different." You looked back down to a Heroes Weekly Tabloid magazine you'd been busying yourself with prior. 
Your hair was normal, bland even, save for the bands of white that flowed down from your temples. The doctors said that when your quirk manifested, it must have put such a strain on you that your body responded in the odd way it did. The same thing happened to your eye color. You had such intense grey eyes after your quirk appeared you hardly remember the color they were before that day.  
"No I mean your haircut!" he chided. Your eye twitched before you looked up again at the pervert menace. You noticed that comment also grabbed the attention of the others on the bus. 
In the seat across from Mineta sat Ashido and Uraraka. Uraraka, who sat by the window, glowered at the boy as best as her round sweet face could. Ashido sneered and shot a glance over to Mineta's seatmate, Kaminari. A look that said, "if you don't do something, I will."
Kaminari, not wanting to have his face melted off as collateral damage, stood in his chair and turned back to face you as well. He put on his best flirty smile and propped his cheek on his fist. "I don't know, I think it looks pretty good. Edgy. Mysterious."
"Yeah, it's a mystery why she has that haircut. It's so unflattering on you! You could be an absolute ten if you'd just--"
Mina flung her leg across the aisle, shoving her boot into Mineta AND Kaminari's sides.
"You dimwitted jerks! You're lucky she doesn't have Uraraka float your two asses and hog tie you to the bus like a couple of balloons!"
"Say the word and I'll do it, girl!" Uraraka looked at you with her dusted pink cheeks. She may have been a softy but she was a ride-or-die. 
You laughed at your two best friends and shook your head no. It was alright. It wasn't anything you weren't used to.
"She cuts it herself." a gravelly voice across from you catches your attention. "Didn't you say that, like, first day of school? Do you not pay attention, idiots?" Bakugo takes one of his earphones out as he readjusts against his school bag. All the noise must have bothered him enough to chime in. 
All four members of the conversation lean out into the aisle and look back at the blonde. Did he just say he remembered some random thing someone said about themselves? 
"Oh. Right, yeah I kind of do remember that." Kaminari pulls out his phone and starts typing away like a madman. Not seconds later a couple of simultaneous dings are heard a bit further up the bus. "Uh, do you know why she cuts it herself though?"
"What's it to you dumbass? She's right there, ask her yourself." he sucks his teeth annoyed, but looks over to you. "Don't tell this shithead anything you don't want to." You smiled at him, your cheeks finding a bit of color before you turned back to Kaminari. You raised your eyebrows at him as though to say, "You heard the man."
Kaminari groans before trying a new tactic. "I mean, I already know the answer. I remember, I was just trying to see if YOU remembered. In fact, I think I probably know more about her than anyone else on this bus." he stated matter-of-factly. You looked at him with an incredulous expression before the hothead across from you spoke out again. 
"You're full of shit." he turns to you again, "You cut it that way so it doesn't get in your way! That's why it doesn't matter what the hell it looks like. You're not trying to win fuckin beauty pageants, you're trying to kick villain ass."
"What's going on, what did I miss? What was that text about?" Kirishima crouched in the aisle, looking to Kaminari for answers. 
"Kirishima, thank god! Mineta move, let Kirishima sit there, you've been a menace long enough today." Mineta checked the seat Kirishima had just come from and saw it was across from Yaoyorozu and agreed without too much fuss.
"Oh, man, you just missed Bakugo say that the lil lady back here isn't winning any beauty pageants." Kaminari slowly shook his head in mock disappointment. 
"WHAT THE HELL? DID I FUCKING SAY THAT??? YOU WANNA KEEP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH?" Bakugo shot up from his seat, sparks popping off his hands that gripped the back of Ashido and Uraraka's chair, the smell of scorched plastic permeated before Uraraka opened her window.
"It's okay Bakugo, he's just trying to mess with you. You're right though, I just hate having my hair in my eyes so I cut my bangs myself." you blow air up from your mouth and watch as the short choppy fringe fluttered about just a bit. "One of these days I'm gonna have tech support just make me a built-in headband so I can grow them out. The grow-out stage is a bitch, is all. " you laugh.
"So that's why Bakugo called you Fringe for the first year of school!" Kirishima nodded in understanding.
"Hey, Kirishima, do you know her favorite color, by the way?" Kaminari ponders dramatically. 
"Uh, It'd be a guess, but no I don't think I've ever asked--What is your favorite color?" Kirishima politely and enthusiastically requested the information from you now. 
"Oh! Well now hold on a minute, maybe we SHOULD guess it." Kaminari's words were laced with a layer of sticky entrapment but you were curious to see where he was going with all this nonsense. 
"Sure, go ahead." you shrugged. 
"Let's take turns guessing. Is it teal?" he looked at you expectantly, and you gave him a cocked side-eye. 
"No-"
"OH darn. Okay Bakugo, your turn. What's her favorite color?"
"This is stupid." he huffed
"Well if you don't know, just say so--"
"It's the same as her birthstone, jackass."
Your blush told Kaminari he was correct, or at least close enough. 
"What makes you so sure? Did she tell you?"
"Obviously it's the same as her birthstone, she has a bracelet she wears that's that color, so why wouldn't it be? It's not that hard to figure out if you weren't an idiot."
"--you know her birthdate?" Uraraka's eyes were wide and she was blushing profusely, knowing full well what was happening. 
"What's her favorite food?" Mina piped up, ignoring the subtlety that Kaminari was attempting, seeing exactly what he was trying to get from the angry blonde. 
"How the hell should I know." Bakugo sunk back down in his seat, attempting to put his dead earphones back on, conveying he was done with the interrogation. 
"Well that's a tough one anyway, I'll eat just about anything. I'm not picky." you shrugged, trying to save Bakugo from any more annoyance. 
"Psh. Yeah, but you have such an annoying sweet tooth. I swear I came down to the common area one time and you were practically scarfing down a cupcake. I thought you'd end up eating the wrapper." Bakugo interjected. 
"Oh, that's ... That's true actually!" you grinned. "Well, the sweets part. I was not going to eat the wrapper! Sato had made some for the class. Maybe if you didn't go to bed so early you could of known how amazing it was." you pouted.
"I don't eat sweets before bed, are you nuts? How's anyone supposed to sleep hopped up on sugar? I don't know how you do it." he mumbled, crossing his arms and spreading to take up more room in his seat. 
"Ah, well I suppose I do have trouble falling asleep sometimes." you considered, "I should try out your schedule for a week and see if it helps!"
"WHY ARE YOU ALL STARING? What the fuck could you all have to look at? Fucking annoying." Bakugo stopped to yell when he noticed the small group of onlookers were, well, still looking at the two of you. 
"Kaminari, he's right, you should mind your own business." Mina said as she and Uraraka turned back around to go back to their own thing. Mina turned to send you a glance and pointed at her phone, indicating you should check your phone. 
Looking at your recent messages you see one from the pinkette,
So are you going to pretend it's normal for THAT guy to know everything about you??
You bit your lip as you glanced over at the annoyed guy staring into the back of the seat in front of him. His leg was bouncing in boredom and probably irritation if you had to guess.
Mina was your best friend, but she could be a bit dramatic. 
You weren't sure you were ready to tell her that Bakugo had made it known to you that he was interested. Like, VERY interested.
And you were, less obviously, interested back. You knew his favorite food. His favorite color. He even told you things that made him feel insecure and confided his feelings about being a hero to you. 
It happened suddenly one day. You noticed him looking at you, like actually looking. He held you back after class and said your actual name and not just fringe. That was when you realized you had feelings for him. You didn't hate the nickname, and you considered yourself on good terms with him. He acknowledged your strength and treated you as an equal. But something about the way he said your name made your mind go fuzzy. It felt like you'd just woken from a dream and saw him for the first time. Were his eyes always that intense? 
"I talked to my old man the other day, and he told me some gross shit about how when he and my mom met- she pursued him relentlessly. Borderline insane is what it sounded like to me. My pop apparently doesn't have a spine and he just gave in. Whatever." Bakugo rolled his eyes before waiting for you to say something. 
"Oh! Um, I don't know, I guess I can see how that's romantic. Uh, why are you telling me this though?" you shuffled your weight from one foot to the other, noticing there was a bit too much heat bouncing off the two of you. 
Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to find the wording. "I'm not crazy like that. I'm not some clone of my old Hag I just wanted to say." he lifted his arm to stretch his back, his actions nonchalant for such an odd topic of conversation. "Anyway, I waited a year is all I wanted to say, so I think I'm going to persue you now."
"Wh-what? You waited. Ah what?" you stammered, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "W-what if I don't want you to pursue m-me?" you laughed. You were nervous. And nervous you always say something to deflect the awkward feelings. 
"I'm not very good at not getting what I want, but like I said-I'm not crazy like that old hag, I'll let you have your own say. Anyway. I'll see you later." and then he left you standing there dazed and confused. 
You looked over to him now, sitting alone in his seat. Why else would you have been sitting in the back if not because you knew he'd be back here? You smile to yourself. While this could be your secret for a little while longer you really couldn't resist after seeing his commitment to knowing you in front of the others. 
You pull out your earphones, put one ear in, and hold out the other to Bakugo, who accepts without hesitation. He shoots you a nod and pushes his bag to the floor making room for you to sit by him. 
And you do. You probably will for the rest of your life if he has his way, and you're happy with that. 
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starryinkart · 18 days
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[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]
[Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!]
Hey guys!!! I said I would work on a Uzi human version to match with my N human version, so here it is!!! I decided to make her a mix of Japanese and Middle Eastern, since Nori means seaweed in Japanese and I’ve have a friend named Khan who was Middle Eastern irl!
Since you guys like the headcannons last time, have some about Uzi:
Uzi was born with blue eyes and black hair, like her parents had, though Khans eyes were a more icy blue. When Khan started to neglect Uzi, she decided to mimick the appearance of her mother instead, seeing her as a role model after everything cool she heard about her around the colony, dying her hair purple like her.
In this AU, Uzi knew her mother before she died for a short time as an infant. Of course, she doesn’t remember much, but she does remember the play dates she used to have with her cousin Doll anytime her aunt Yeva would come over.
Nori and Yeva were sisters, both genetically modified to have the solver inside of them, making Doll and Uzi cousins. Nori and Yeva knew the consequences of having offspring with the solver in their veins but were actively working on a cure before Noris demise.
Uzi, Doll, Lizzy and Thad used to be childhood friends, but after Nori died and Yeva began to pull Doll away from her cousin to protect her from any trace of the solver, Doll and Lizzy began to bully Uzi.
Uzi came out short, like her father Khan, whereas Nori was tall, partially due to the effects of the solver.
Uzi's favorite foods are Philadelphia Sushi Rolls, Shrimp Tempura Rolls, Shoyu Ramen, and Khan Plov (suprisingly)
Uzi's favorite dessert is Apple Cheesecake!
Khan and Uzi used to have a pretty wholesome father daughter bond, but when Nori passed, he distanced himself from his daughter around the time Doll and Lizzy started bullying her, due to fear the solver may have developed in his daughter. Unfortunately we all know what eventually happens in the series and how Khan picked the worst time in her life to try and rekindle a bond with her.
Uzi has a scar on her left shoulder from N stabbing her with his wing in the Pilot, but honestly she doesn't care if people see it, unlike N who's self concious about his scars, and she thinks it looks cool.
Once she begins to be taken over by the solver, her thirst for oil is uncontrollable, though she HATES the taste of it.
Uzi's favorite anime is Chainsaw Man, though N thinks it's to gorey.
N taught Uzi to fly with her wings, and it went...as well as you could expect the first few times, but eventually she learned.
Sometimes Uzi has moments where she doesn't remember certain events in the day like what she ate for breakfeast or what she did that day in school, and her mind sort of blips all over the place ever since her solver powers were activated. She doesn't know this, but whenever that happens the solver is slowly getting acustomed to her body, putting her conciousness to "rest" while it tries out her body.
N and Uzi's favorite activity is to watch the sun rise together from inside an abandoned building they have made their "treehouse" of sorts. V doesn't know about it, and it's filled to the brim with comfort items, furniture and decorations for whenever they decide to stay out too late and no make it back home to risk burning up.
Uzi's favorite animal is cows!
Uzi and N spoon each other often, even when they were just friends, because the warmth of their bodies makes them feel safe and loved.
Uzi's favorite subject is Science and anything to do with being hands on. She likes learning and school, but just "dislikes" likes and doesn't know how to speak to them without being bullied her peers with a passion.
Uzi can be very motherly and protective, and is actually very nuturing and kind underneath her edginess.
She'll NEVER tell V this to her face, but she's grown to love V as a big sister of sorts and cares about her as much as N.
Her favorite color purple. She thinks it makes her and N match look cool but you didnt hear that from her.
She likes alot of metal and hardstyle types of music, but acutally enjoy's N's upbeat and pop music from the late 1900's and early 2000's human era more than she lets on.
She doesn't like when N uses his deeper voice and whispers in her ear...it makes her feel...weird. But in a good way- wait what?
She loves to draw and totally doesn't have sketches of her, N and V as superhero anime characters, her and N building a neural network together in her sketchbook. EW. GROSS.
I didn't know how to end this, but I will say Im totally doing the other characters! Next is V!
____________________________________________________________
ALSOOOOO…
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THANKYOU ALL FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS GUYS!!!
IM WORKING ON A BUNCH OF STUFF LIKE ANIMATIONS ON YOUTUBE, MORE AU THINGS, AND WORKING ON MY ABSOLUTELY FANFIC! I'm hoping to expand more on my comics on Tumblr like my @thedarknessyouhold and the Murder Drones universe as a whole, so stick around for some awesome stuff coming soon!
My commisions are also open! You can find them on my KO-FI HERE and HERE !
You can ALSO find updates and sneak peeks sometimes as well!
AND my LINKTREE HERE!
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baekhyunsbambii · 2 months
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Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang
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SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.
PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)
GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang
WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)
if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3
Reqs are open!
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Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face
Kang Yeosang
He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies
Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received
He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame
You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.
Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud
He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well
He was a magnet for people, that was for sure
quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another
which was a good thing, you thought
You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you
He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect
In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance
He was odd, that was for sure
You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true
And you were right
You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building
A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?
You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands
“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”
Holy shit.
Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore
You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points
“What the fuck do you want?”
He is not having it.
Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.
“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood
Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut
Fuck.
He was not happy.
You knew the power he held on campus too
Anxiety hit you like a bus.
What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??
You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction
boy were you wrong
You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??
Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you
It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.
That was until he had you cornered in your art room.
“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over
“You don’t belong here—“
Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.
You nearly jumped a foot into the air
“What the fuck!”
He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.
“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.
“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.
As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.
“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.
You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.
“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“
He advanced toward you, step by step.
You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.
shit
His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you
"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side
“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.
“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”
You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.
What has gotten into you?
He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.
“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.
You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.
A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.
Let alone in the middle of an art studio.
“Yeo—“
His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.
“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.
“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.
“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.
“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.
“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.
His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.
“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.
Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.
His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.
You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.
“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.
“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.
What a tease.
His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.
You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.
His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.
You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.
He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.
You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“
Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.
Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.
He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.
He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.
“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.
His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.
You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.
All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on
Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs
Holy fuck
You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips
He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek
You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back
“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.
Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace
Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both
You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you
The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked
Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor
“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”
“Now, let’s get back to where we left off.”
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bodyswapper · 5 months
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Family Reunion - Part 2
*Note: Please refer to part 1 of the story here.
------
The family reunion was going incredible. Uncle Steve and I had everyone convinced that we were not a part of the great swap this year. It was weird gravitating towards Uncle's Steve part of the family instead of my former Mom, Dad, and Sister, but it was incredibly fun pretending to be this extroverted dork of a man. The rest of the weekend was a blur, and eventually it came to the last night of the reunion.
My grandpa strolled up on stage with and tapped the mic. "Attention all, as the reunion comes to a close it is time to announce the winner. At lunch I returned everyone their potions that was a part of the swap this year, so if everyone could take those out and drink them now. Multiple couples pulled out their different colored vials, some people were shocked at the pairings, but I realized that Uncle Steve and I did not receive our vials back, so I assumed that we won! It was wild watching everyone switch back. I watched as my Dad, and my cousin switched bodies, it was incredibly weird watching the transformation from the side. After all the excitement died down, and the family chatter ceased my Grandpa took the mic again.
"Now, will the two that have yet to swap back with join me up here" He said with a smirk, staring at me.
Uncle Steve, in my body, began to walk up first, and dropped the act of being an edgy young kid. I walked up behind him, also trying to drop the act of being the dorky uncle but it felt foreign to me to not act like him.
"Ugh he wins every year!" some of the family said referring to Uncle Steve. Uncle Steve in my body chuckled. "Anyways, you all know the drill, everyone congratulate Alex and Steve!" my grandpa exclaimed. He came forwards and put a hand on mine and Uncle Steve's backs. "Enjoy the victory lap, see me in about an hour and I'll give you the potions to switch back, and talk about your wishes!" he whispered to us.
The next hour was spent with everyone coming up to us and talking about how they were completely fooled and such. It was weird talking to my family and having to face them now but they seemed like they were more proud of me than anything.
Uncle Steve, in my body, got called in for his wish first. They were talking for a minute before finally calling me in. I came in, and Uncle Steve had a total smirk on his face, and my Grandpa was much more stern, which was unusual for him.
"What's going on guys?" I said, unable to shake Uncle Steve's mannerisms.
"Well, I guess I'll just spit it out, you can decline if you want to... but Uncle Steve here wants to remain like this til the next family reunion. This will count as his wish only, and you will still get yours" my grandpa said. I was taken aback, realizing what they were asking of me. I wanted to say no but thought of how much fun I had this week, and being an adult instead of going back to living with my parents sounded fun. "What the hell, lets do it kiddo!" I exclaimed, still feeling Uncle Steve's personality flow through me. I looked over at the mirror and saw my reflection staring back, I smirked realizing that this was my new reality for the next year.
"As you wish" my grandpa said and closed the case. Stev- Alex, you may leave now. He thanked me and left the room, leaving my Grandpa and I alone.
"Well it seems like you've embraced the tradition well" my grandpa chuckled.
"It's been fun, I've liked having his personality and pretending to be him" I said trying to be modest.
"Well, its your turn for a wish, what would you like? Typically, people choose if they want to participate next year, and who they switch with but it can be anything" he explained.
"Next year, I want to be you, and host the event" I said confidently. My grandpa chuckled, as if he'd been waiting to hear someone say that.
"As you wish, next year come to the house a week early and we can plan it all out. I'd love to have you has my prodigy Ale- Steve" he said. "Now go join the party, and enjoy your year!" he said.
I walked out, still carrying Uncle Steve's mannerisms, but I couldn't wait til next year.
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joelswritingmistress · 3 months
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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 19
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Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 
Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 
Dr. Miller didn’t open up anymore about his past. It almost felt like he regretted telling me about the incident with his sister by the time we reached his home. We ate together at the kitchen island, but we mostly just sat in silence. The oversized space with a giant elephant in the room made things feel quite the opposite than they had in recent days.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I finally asked when Dr. Miller stared blankly toward the refrigerator.
“Not particularly.” He didn’t look over.
I hesitated before talking again. “If you regret telling me, it’s okay.”
“I don’t.” Dr. Miller finally glanced at me. “I don’t.. It’s just.. I just threw a lot on your plate by telling you that.”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. I think you just got a lot off yours - and that’s a good thing.”
He lazily forked the food on his plate again and ate a bite before sliding off the barstool. Dr. Miller rounded the island and opened a small cabinet above the fridge to retrieve a bottle of bourbon. He poured himself a small helping, wasting no time in swigging it down and gritting his teeth from the burn of the warm whiskey.
When he turned to put the glass in the sink, I tiptoed my way toward him and put my arms around him from behind. My eyes closed as I rested my head against his back and I felt his body relax. Dr. Miller let out a deep sigh.
“You’re the good guy,” I reminded him, hoping my words were even a little bit impactful. “Carol is lucky to have you.”
He turned and unlatched from his body and stepped back to look up at him. With ease and unpredictability, Dr. Miller scooped me up off the ground and sat me on the kitchen counter. We were face-to-face now and he stared at me from just a few inches away.
“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve killed someone?” He asked.
I stared back into those eyes. They had transformed from puppy dog to wolf in an instant. It was an odd comparison, I knew that, but it’s all I could think of. When Dr. Miller placed both of his hands on the marble countertop either side of me, I let out a deep exhale that I didn’t realize I had been holding in. 
“No.” I shook my head.
“Why?” The one-word question came out just slightly edgy. His eyes squinted and he subconsciously moved an inch closer as he spoke.
“It’s heavy,” I admitted, “Very heavy.” My eyes never left his and I placed a hand on his cheek, contrasting the intensity that radiated from him. It seemed to disarm him just a little. “But, no, it doesn’t bother me. The only thing that bothers me is that you have to live with it. You have to live with a man assaulting your sister, you have to live with defending her and it resulting in some man’s death.” I corrected myself, “Excuse me, some asshole’s death.”
Dr. Miller’s eyes moved back and forth. The book reading. The human lie detector.
“How could I judge you for something like that?” I asked, shaking my head.
When his eyes softened just a bit I was thankful. Dr. Miller looked down and back up. He then leaned in and kissed me. I rested my hands on his face and felt his move to my waist.
He parted from me and then pecked my lips once more. “Thank you.”
I snaked my arms around him and slowly pulled him against me for a hug. We stayed like that for a long moment before he picked me up with ease. Prior to Dr. Miller I had never had a man pick me up. Each time he did that my stomach danced with butterflies.
I sighed and then managed a little smile. “Take me upstairs.” I was hooked on him and both of us were brewing with emotion. I didn't want the moment to go to waste.
Dr. Miller’s hands squeezed my buttocks as I sat in his hands with my legs wrapped around him. “I make the rules,” he reminded me, finally with a playful squint in his eyes and a little smirk tipping the corner of his lips.
“You're right,” I agreed. My eyes were locked with his. “What are you going to do to me?”
Dr. Miller couldn't keep his smile from expanding. “I'm going to take you upstairs.”
I let out a little chuckle and our lips collided again. Finally, the tension broke and we managed to salvage the better half of the evening.
By the time Tuesday night’s class rolled around, things felt as if they were back to normal - as normal as it could be for us. Dr. Miller was back to using his charming delivery to woo the crowd of twenty-somethings. As much as I was truly engaged in the subject matter, I suddenly felt totally removed from the rest of the group; like I didn't belong.
It wasn't a bad feeling. None of my classmates were actual friends of mine, or even acquaintances. Somehow it just felt surreal to walk into that oversized classroom and sit in the crowd as if Dr. Miller meant nothing to me, when in reality I was caught up in this forbidden,  whirlwind romance - one where he had just confessed, perhaps, his darkest secret. Perhaps.
For the better half of fifteen minutes I found myself daydreaming as I watched him draw laughs from the crowd, wave his hands with genuine enthusiasm as he spoke and create thought-provoking conversations from his students. When I realized I must’ve looked like a young girl at some boy band concert, I adjusted the way I sat in my chair and cleared my throat.
Class ended with Dr. Miller assigning a short paper that was due by the end of the week. “I’ll begin grading them next Monday,” he explained, “So, you’ll have the rest of this week and the weekend.” When no one commented he put his hands to the sides and said in purposely-cliche fashion, “Class dismissed.”
I smiled to myself when his eyes landed directly on me as I took my time packing up my backpack. At the same time I caught a glimpse of Trevor from my peripheral vision. He watched as I lazily shoved my notebook down into the bowels of my bag and only turned away when I glanced purposefully in his direction.
For the first time I felt a twinge of discomfort. Did Trevor have an inclination that something was going on between Dr. Miller and I; or was he simply jealous that I was getting some of the attention from our professor that he craved? There’s no doubt in my mind that Trevor was the, ‘I’m the smartest guy in the room’ type; a teacher’s pet on steroids.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I looked away from my annoying classmate to glance at the text that had come in. Dr. Miller. I smiled to myself.
Take a left out of the classroom, go out the back door and get in the car, the text read.
I glanced up at him and smiled when he was staring directly at me. With a little nod, he smirked and looked down as he gathered his laptop and things from on top of the desk.
Trevor and I took parallel staircases down to the bottom floor and I didn’t linger like I typically did once the class had emptied out. The last thing I wanted was for him to start putting the pieces together. My eyes briefly met Dr. Miller’s as I passed by. 
“Bye Trevor.” I glanced over my shoulder as I crossed out of the classroom, catching my professor’s eye again as I disappeared off to the left.
Before I reached the back door I saw Trevor and two remaining students exit the classroom. He looked around the otherwise empty hallway as if he was searching for something; and then he turned around completely and did a double-take when he noticed me by the back door.
Shit. I should have just gone outside, I thought.
When I waved to him, he quickly turned around with his thumbs tucked beneath the straps of his bag and power walked in the opposite direction. I continued my walk out the back door, being met by a smaller parking lot near a manmade pond in the center of campus. It was desolate and dark and would have freaked me out if the Mercedes headlights weren’t willing me to safety. The logo shimmered in the center of the vehicle, greeting me with a friendly hello.
I took a deep breath, glancing around in all directions and pulled my hood up as I walked the semi-snowy walkway down to Dr. Miller’s car. I guessed he had an automatic starter but I was a bit surprised that it could reach from the classroom. When I opened the passenger door, a warmth overtook the chill that had crept inside my body on the short walk outside.
Out of habit, I closed the door and locked it as I sat waiting in the darkness. One minute went by. Two. Three.
I glanced at my phone every thirty seconds or so and on minute six I almost texted Dr. Miller, though he emerged from the giant steel door in the back of the building. My body relaxed and I watched his dark silhouette slink down the same walkway. I watched him all the way up until the back door behind me clicked open and I turned to face him.
The light inside the vehicle didn’t click on. I could barely make out his features. When the door slammed I swallowed hard.
“Dr. Miller?” I had to confirm that it was actually him, though I was certain it was.
All at once, the four locks clicked shut with a collective snap.
“Come here.” His voice was indistinguishable. I would know that voice anywhere. It left the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.
“Yes, Dr. Miller.” I knew that was what he wanted to hear as I climbed into the back seat. Much to my surprise, and satisfaction, his hard cock was already out of his pants. I only knew this in the dark because he guided my hand into his lap. At the same time he was pulling me onto my knees beside him to kiss me.
“It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I’ve fucked you,” he said in a voice just above a whisper, “That’s too fuckin’ long.”
I kissed him hard, making out with him as he groaned into my mouth as I stroked his length in my palm from bottom to top and back down again.
“I don’t have it in me to wait until we get home,” Dr. Miller choked out as he kissed down my neck before roughly catching my earlobe between his teeth. “It’s torture seeing you sitting there in class knowing I can’t ravage you.”
I moaned when his hands slid down past my waist, yanking down the leggings I had on beneath an oversized sweatshirt. I let my Ugg fall off one foot and freed my left leg from my pants. Dr. Miller pulled me onto his lap, eagerly forcing me down onto his greedy, impatient cock. He didn’t wait for me to create the pace as he had in the past. Dr. Miller thrusted his hips up, slamming into me with a force that made me moan without warning.
“Fuuck.” I whined and gripped the leather seat behind where he sat.
Dr. Miller held my hips firmly in place and completely dominated the pace from beneath me. When another set of headlights entered the lot, I looked over my shoulder and slunk down.
“Someone else is here,” I whispered, as if they could hear me.
He gently used two fingers to turn my head back around to face him. “Ride my dick, honey.”
Fuck. It was like checkmate all over again; although I wasn't losing. I was just submitting. Submitting myself completely and fully to him. The car pulled in a few spaces away from the two of us and we both glanced over, just for a second, when another professor exited the vehicle and began walking up toward the building.
Dr. Miller quickly pulled my face back to his, roughly this time, and we made out hard as I moved on top of him. I could tell he enjoyed the thrill of being so close to getting caught like this. It aroused me, too.  “Ughhh…” He broke the kiss to moan and he gripped my bare hips as he cursed and panted, pushing deeper inside of me. I suddenly felt a familiar warmth between my legs and Dr. Miller’s head fell back against the seat.
I looked down, smirking slightly, at how fast he came.
“Oh, fuck, sorry.” He breathed the words out and grinned beneath half-open eyes.
I giggled and touched my forehead to his before pecking his lips. “I love seeing you so worked up.”
“I owe you one.” He pulled me in for a hard closed-mouth kiss. 
“Mmm.”
We parted and I hopped off him, leaving a mess between us that coated the front of his dark gray work pants. Dr. Miller tucked himself back into his pants. He reached into the breast pocket of his white, button-down shirt and pulled out a handkerchief.
I glanced down as he wiped my inner thighs and made eye-contact with me for a second before slipping the white cloth into my hand so I could do the rest. Dr. Miller eyed my every move and then took the handkerchief back. He looked me in the eye when he folded it neatly and stuffed it back into his pocket. Why something like that turned me on, I will never know. But it did.
Dr. Miller smirked at my awestruck reaction and he touched my face and let his thumb dance in circles around my cheek. “I’ll take care of you when we get home,” he promised.
“Okay.” My eyes closed when he kissed me again.
“Hop into the front seat.”
I nodded and kissed him again before doing as he instructed. At the same time, Dr. Miller opened the back door and reentered the car through the driver’s side. When he slunk back into the car beside me, his hand found mine. I loved the way he treated me after ravaging my body.
“Are we together?” I suddenly asked. I had to know. We had never clearly created a label. Not that labels were particularly important, but I decided in this case I needed a concrete answer. When Dr. Miller turned toward me, I glanced down at our interlocked hands.
He waited for me to look back at him before responding. “Yes.”
“Exclusively?”
Dr. Miller nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
“I do,” and then added, “Do you?”
He grinned and leaned across to kiss me. “Yes.”
I smiled wide and put my feet on the dashboard as he put the car in drive. Dr. Miller chuckled at my outward elated mannerisms. He brought the back of my hand to his lips and cruised the vehicle out of the small, dark parking lot.
When I glanced out the tinted window, I saw Trevor standing there in the shadows. He hugged a laptop to his chest and adjusted his glasses as if to see better. His presence made me slink down further into the seat. What the fuck was he doing? And more importantly, did he see us?
CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER
@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky
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tiredlilguy · 7 months
Note
Hello Oda~ Hope you're doing well! This is like the first time I've requested something, so I hope I get it right. Can I request something Beast!Dazai x reader related?
Basically, a last dance with his S/O (his way of vaguely saying goodbye without letting the reader know too much about his plans). Make it as angsty as you'd like!
a/n: hihi! i hope you're doing well too >:D this is hella edgy, but im not going to lie, it gave me a lot of ideas for what to write. i had to put the draft aside for a little bit because i did just post angst a second ago. enjoy though! >:D i had fun with this prompt hehe
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pairing: BEAST!Dazai Osamu X GN!Reader cw: [BSD BEAST SPOILERS!], sad :(, not proofread desc: dazai chose to dance with you. to you, just another dance. to him, his last.
Dazai Osamu didn’t do good things.
You understood that much…
Even if you didn’t work in the Mafia, you still felt as though there was a good in him. He was simply a man lost in his own eyes, yet at the same time that void shined when it faced you. It was if if his eye that was filled with darkness and nothing shown light the moment that they looked at you.
You first meeting him was a blur, it started with you just working at an old bar that was close to rusting. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, taking a seat with a smile and already asking for a glass of whiskey with a grin. It was odd… you were talking to a stranger and yet in the moment that you saw him, it almost felt as if you knew everything about him. Dazai was ready to be open to that too, offering to buy you a drink in exchange for a little bit of conversation.
Now you were no longer working at that bar. Ever since then, everything seemed to change: five star hotels, fancy restaurants, pretty silk outfits and clothes from luxury brands, fancy jewelry with twenty-four karat gold, and a penthouse that you weren’t expecting to find yourself sitting on the balcony of. Life seemed to be a red carpet walk for you, and all you had to do in return was give your heart to Dazai. Of course, you did with no hesitation. It seemed as though that first time yo’ve met, you’ve known each other for years.
He not only gave you gifts in forms of affection, but he too was also affectionate himself. Dazai often loved to spend time with you even if you two weren’t talking. Your presence was something that he enjoyed, even if you two didn’t have to say a single word or let out a sound. He kissed you gently, always making sure to pull you close by the hand before with a small smile. Dazai would whisper soft things into your ear as he held you tight, perhaps telling you something just to make you laugh… You felt as though you were on top of the world with him.
And yet…
You knew Dazai never did anything good.
After all, now he was the Port Mafia’s boss, the man who ruled authority with an iron fist and a cold face. Unfortunately with that… there were a lot of things he never told you. Dazai never took off his bandaged in front of you, never told you how work was really going, never explained why he was out so late or that he had arrived home in different clothes. You were left in the dark, and while that made you afraid and confused, you understood that it was for your safety. If you knew about what Dazai was doing, you’d be an easy target for ransom despite you being quite good at defending yourself. All he wanted to do was to protect you.
Yet…
You were called to meet your lover in an uncertain location. While the letter was reassuring for you not to worry, you car being late was already enough to make you anxious. Giving up on waiting after ten minutes, you ran off, searching for the location on your own. In some way you felt as though your legs would be faster than a flimsy car. The more steps you took, you felt your heart race more with anxiety.
Why did he call you here?
What does he need?
Are you going to be ok?
Eventually, your exhausted soles met the ground you were to meet him upon. An abandoned parking lot, not too far from just leaving the city. Yet at the same time, you were out of breathe, sweaty and an anxious mess. You ran up the multiple stairs, running to arrive at the floor that he’d requested. Once you were there, your feet started to slow down as you tried to catch your breathe. You didn’t understand how tired you really were until you arrived, the feeling underneath your feet only aching more and more as the cluster of feelings in your chest grew bigger.
There Dazai was, standing with his hands behind his back as he stared into the sunset. He turned around to you with a light smile, offering his hands.
“ There you are, little flower,” he sung softly, but loud enough for you to hear. You gently walked over to him, taking his hand. Before you knew it, he pulled your arm back, wrapping a hand around your waist with a smile as he made you come closer. Dazai closed his eyes as he started to step to the side, humming to himself gently. Once again, you were close enough to hear.
You looked up at him, accepting his implicit invitation to dance around, placing a hand on his shoulder and following his footsteps.
Despite the scene being rather calm, you felt a strange wave of anxiety in your chest, yet at the same time you wondered if it was just all the running. You watched and following in silence as Dazai seemed to be in his own world. This time… with his eyes closed. It was strange, if he had his eyes closed you could never understand what was on his mind… at least from a distance. He’d look at you with a soft gaze if his eyes were open, a small glimmer showing from them… He was hiding.
“ Osamu…,” you said in a hushed voice.
He seemed to still be in his own universe as he answered with a hum,” Yes, my love? Sorry that the car you were supposed to take didn’t get here on time. There was some… complications… on the way.”
“ Osamu could you just look at me for a secon- ah…!,” Dazai swiftly pulled you to switch sides, the trum in his voice getting a little bit louder.
“ Hm… I quite love the scenery that I’ve chosen. Don’t you…? You always enjoyed sunsets like this, no?,” Dazai stopped, looking over to the side, but he made sure that you weren’t able to see his eyes, his bandaged side hiding his true expression. He turned around once again and continued swaying you about as you couldn’t really think of any words to say back. You chose to stay silent, letting him enjoy his dance…
To you, a simple dance, one like many that he’d enjoyed with you.
To him, his last dance.
Dazai eventually stopped himself, separating from you before dipping you down. He’d finally opened his eyes… and this time all you could see was an empty void. One that didn’t seem to look back at you the way it used to.
“ Goodnight, my love,” he said gently,” I enjoyed this dance with you, but now it’s time for you to go.”
You raised a brow,” Good… night? I’ll see you tonight, ‘Samu. You’re acting really weird.”
“ Whatever do you mean,” You didn’t answer back, only shrugging your shoulders. Perhaps your thoughts were just betraying you, and so you let go of his hands with a smile.
“ I love you, Osamu,” you said, placing a soft kiss on his lips despite how strangely cold they felt.
“ Hm…,” he let out one warm smile,” I love you too.”
Dazai knew that this world could not move on without his disappearance. It was all too painful, this universe, yet at the same time, it was one where his dear friend, Oda was alive… One where Oda could write his novel in a peaceful life.
However he also knew… that he couldn’t give you everything. Leaving you confused in the dark was already enough… and so, by his plan, he left this world.
A bittersweet relief.
It was midnight. Dazai hadn’t returned to your door yet, but the person that did was a tall man with rust red hair. He was in a bow and held a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a blueish-green pendant.
“ I’m sorry for your loss.”
“ I… huh?”
“ He’s gone… Dazai that is…”
“ O-oh god…”
“ Take this… This is the least I can do.”
“ …”
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chronicdisasterwrites · 7 months
Text
you can do better. i'm better
pairing: gojo satoru x reader (modern, college au)
genre + warnings: - FLUFF !! alcohol consumption, smoking, swearing, and a jealous and very flirty gojo. reader is gender neutral but is shorter than satoru and has long-ish hair.
word count: 1,934
summary: this is a song-fic based on this ask, the song being "FEEL" by Måneskin. for the full experience, start listening to the song after the 4th break, there'll be a very obvious indication in the dialogue!
enjoyyy <3
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“So, there’s a party.”
You hum non-committedly, pen still dancing on your page as your eyes flit between your textbook and notebook. You hear a pen tapping against the wooden desk and try very hard to ignore it. The tapping gets louder and more constant until you’re unable to ignore it any longer. You release a long sigh as you look up at the person pest sitting before you.
"Okay, what?"
Shoko grins as she sets the pen down and clasps her hands underneath her chin, "There's a party. Let's go."
You stare at her for a few seconds before asking, "When, where, and why?"
"Tonight, at Mei Mei's place and because we can and should."
You groan, "I really don't wanna, Shoko. I have work and I'm so sleep-deprived I can't-"
Shoko shuts your books and flicks your forehead, ignoring the small "ow" that escapes your lips. She stands up and takes your things with her, "We are going, and that's that. You can sleep and work and whatever after the party. It's been way too long since we actually had some time to relax and I'm not going without you, so suck it up."
You dejectedly watch her leave with all your things and wonder why you even hang out with such a menace.
---
"Oi, Suguru."
The man in question is distracted, hunched over his desk, sketching away in his notebook with loud music blasting through his earphones. Satoru slams the door shut hoping it'll break his best friend's trance. Suguru feels the reverberation from the door slamming closed and tilts his head to look at a pouty Satoru with arms crossed across his chest. Suguru sends an apologetic smile as he takes off one earphone from the ear closest to Satoru, "Hey. Sorry, what's up?”
“There’s a party.”
Suguru pauses his song, suddenly concerned at how loud the volume was. Rolling his chair back and fully facing Satoru now he says, “Let me guess. We're going?”
He watches Satoru fall back on his bed sprawled out like a starfish. There's a pause before Satoru speaks, “Depends. Y’know if Shoko's going?”
Suguru gives him a sly smile, “I’m not sure. Why?” Satoru spares him a glance masked with disapproval, “Just asking, jeez. What's with the face?”
There's a laugh as Suguru stands up and makes his way to his closet, rummaging through his typical array of edgy, dark outfits. He hears the bed squeak and assumes Satoru is now sitting up, glaring at the back of his head. He decides to pull his leg a bit more, “Just sick of your childish antics.”
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Suguru sighs as he lays down his selected outfit on the side of the bed Satoru wasn't currently occupying. Satoru sighs exaggeratedly, obviously mocking his best friend and only gets a deadpan look as a response, "You just proved my point."
Satoru whines Suguru's name and falls back down on the bed, dropping his arm on Suguru's clothes, "You're annoying."
Suguru watches Satoru with amused eyes. He knows all about the silver-haired boy’s embarrassing crush on you. He flirts and teases you all day only to mope around and whine about why you don’t like him back. Suguru loves his best friend, but how much whining can a person take? Especially since he talks to Shoko, and Shoko is your best friend, and Shoko has informed Suguru that you very much do like Satoru back. 
With a snort, Suguru walks over to his chair and goes back to doing what he was doing when the man-child speaks again.
"Hey, make a playlist. Nanami will be there and I can't deal with any more of his depressing emo music."
---
When you got there, the party was in full swing. People are dancing on tabletops, drinking cheap beer and hard liquor, and smoking all kinds of things, and you're pretty sure you saw someone passed out on a desk littered with plastic cups and playing cards. Leave it to Mei Mei to throw the craziest parties in college history.
You wished you could cling on to Shoko through the entire night, but she ditched you with a simple pat on the back and a nonchalant "have fun", and so here you were, in the kitchen drinking something too colorful, and ridiculously sweet for your liking. Satoru would like this shit, you think, begrudgingly swallowing the concoction.
"You don't like the drink?"
You look over to your side and find a guy you've never seen before. The kitchen is more or less empty with a few people coming and going as the blaring music from the room connected to the kitchen shakes the walls. Sheepishly smiling and putting the glass on the counter you were leaning against you reply, "It's a bit too sweet for me."
The guy laughs a hearty chuckle and moves closer to stand right in front of you, blocking your view of the open entrance of the kitchen and the room conjoined to it. He's tall, not taller than Satoru, you deduce, and fairly good-looking.
"Ironic. You seem pretty sweet yourself."
You snort, "Wow, smooth."
He looks at you with half-lidded eyes and you know what he's thinking, as he reaches out his hand and introduces himself. You reciprocate and give him your name before adding, "I haven't seen you on campus before."
"Yeah, I don't go here. I'm a friend of Mei Mei's."
You nod your head slowly and look for an opening to get out of the conversation, "So, just here for the party?"
He grins and places both his hands on either side of you, caging you against the counter, hovering his face too close to yours for comfort, "Initially yeah, but now I think I found a better reason to stay."
You cringe internally. Oh god…
---
"What the fuck?"
Moving his eyes to follow Satoru's line of sight, Suguru scrunches his face, "Ouch. Sorry, man."
Satoru's eyebrows are drawn together and his eyes are flaming as the plastic cup crumples from his unyielding grip. He thinks about walking over to where you were in the kitchen and stomping all over that random guy's face until he looks like the red plastic cup; disfigured, sad, and lying motionless on the floor.
"Who the fuck is that guy?"
Suguru senses upcoming trouble as Satoru's anger starts to pulsate louder than the actual music. He takes another plastic cup and fills it with a concoction consisting of alcohol mixed with something fruity, handing it to an absolutely livid Gojo Satoru, "I dunno. Why don't you go and find out?" 
He watches Satoru down the entire cup after which he slams it on the table. They exchange glances as Satoru gives Suguru a sly grin, "Play something appropriate, will ya?"
Suguru watches with a smirk as his best friend marches over to the kitchen. Playing a song he deemed appropriate, he looks around to find Shoko talking to Utahime and saunters over to her, nudging her on the shoulder.
Glancing at him, she quirks an eyebrow as she takes a drag of her lit cigarette. Suguru points over at the kitchen as Shoko leans to the side to check out what he was gesturing to, and a wide grin blooms on both their faces. Their thoughts seemed to merge at that moment. This is either going to be really fun, or really bad.
---
“There you are, sweetheart!” 
Your attempt to maneuver yourself away from the counter and the man blocking your way was interrupted by the booming voice you know so very well. Peering over the guy’s shoulder you see Satoru sporting his usual smug smile, bounding toward you and gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist. The man immediately scampers five steps behind as Satoru towers over him, his intimidating posture and menacing grin wiping the overconfident facade the man was previously showcasing. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Satoru leans down to leave a kiss on the top of your head, all while keeping his piercing blue eyes locked on the terrified man’s pale face. 
“You done flirtin’ with my girl?”
The guy stutters face darkened in embarrassment as he rushes away, presumably to crawl into a hole and die. You watched the whole interaction with confusion overwhelming your senses. When Satoru’s arm drops from your waist, you snap back to reality as you laugh and look up at him with amused eyes, “Well, that was hilarious. Nice acting.” 
You expect him to laugh and just leave it be, so when his eyebrows furrow and eyes stare pointedly at you, your confusion comes rushing back. 
“Seriously? That loser?”
You wonder why Satoru’s being so hostile; maybe he doesn’t like that guy, maybe he’s just protective. But then you notice the light blush covering the apples of his cheeks and it hits you - Oh, he’s jealous.
Huffing, you lean against the counter crossing your arms across your chest and reciprocating the same pointed look right back at him, “Why do you care?” 
He stares at you for a few beats and then sighs and turns back around to leave, “Forget it.”
You have liked Satoru for a while now, but the boy never speaks freely. One moment he’s flirting with you nonchalantly, and right when you start to think he might like you as more than a friend, he does things like this. So you decide to persist this time by reaching out and grabbing his slender wrist, “Hold on, just tell me. Why do you care?”
You watch his shoulders rise up and down and before you realize what’s happening, Satoru whips around and cages you against the counter, similar to how to were trapped a few minutes ago, except this time you’re sure your heart skipped several beats. 
He drops his head next to your ear and whispers, “Because, I know you.” 
You feel his fingers run through your hair as he tucks a few strands behind your ear. Keeping you between him and the kitchen counter, he leans down and aligns his face directly across yours. You feel his sapphire eyes burn through your eyes to the back of your skull as he leans closer, his nose mere inches away from yours. “I know what makes you blush, I know what words you like to hear, I know what you want to feel…” 
Your face is getting exponentially warmer by the second and you think your heart is following the rhythm of the drums playing in the song currently blasting through the speakers. You stare at him wide-eyed and stunned at his antics.
“S-Satoru-”
His eyes trail down to your lips and then back to your eyes and his lips curl into that stupid smile you hate so much. At this point, you’re both breathing into each other's faces and he tilts his head to the side, eyes zoned in on your lips, inching forward until you can smell the sweet scent of alcohol and mint in his breath and the deodorant on his body. You’re too stunned to close your eyes, so you don’t miss the way his lips barely graze yours before he stands straight and grabs the cup you had previously abandoned on the countertop - a piece of information you had completely forgotten about. You watch him chug the entire drink and sigh in satisfaction, as he gently sets the cup down and moves back. “Sorry. Got carried away there,” his eyes are soft and your stomach is light as if filled with feathers. You’re speechless, shocked, and so bothered. Standing there with your heart lodged in your throat, you watch Satoru leave with a smile and not a clue in his pretty head on just how he makes you feel.
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a/n: very special thanks to my dear @daisy-the-quake for test-reading this <;33
taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789
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xoxovalrea · 2 months
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Jaded - suguru geto + fem! reader
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Sypno: Your dumb boyfriend “becomes” friends with the university’s drug dealer and does hardcore drugs on video. So you help him out by..fucking your edgy dealer‼️
A/n: dont do drugs kids⁉️ listen to digital bath- Deftones
Warning: words like slut & whore r used & drug and alcohol use. Also CNC & rough sex ( lmk if i missed any )
Wc: 1.3k
                        💜Minors DNI‼️💜
You’re on the couch with your boyfriend travis per usual when he all of a sudden starts getting really touchy which he only does when he needs something. 
You roll your eyes and say “whats up what do ya need” he rubs your thighs and finally says “baby can you please go over to sugurus place n give him money” you ask why out of curiosity and you instantly regret it. He tells you he was doing hardcore drugs with suguru and he got it on video threatening to send it to the school board. You sigh and tell him to leave so you can go over to getos place. You don’t even know why he is so serious about it, like he’s not even good at football or basketball or school in general all he does is beat up kids and cheat on you. You change into a crop top and some white sweats and start walking to a small trailer park. 400$ in your pocket is a small pocket knife and your phone so you don't get kidnapped or lost. 
As you're walking you see the trailer with the number 0197 on the mailbox and walk up to the door once you get there you hear a faint sound of a guitar so you knock even harder three times and the music finally comes to a halt. Geto walks out with blood shot eyes sipping Hennessy and his hair falling randomly on his face. “hey baby how can i help ya ? want the usual or nah and tell ya shit faced boyf-“ you sigh and let yourself in plopping down on his couch taking out the money and hold the money up towards geto he takes another sip of the drink and grabs the money laughing
 “His bitch ass really sent you here for him” he finishes the rest of the henny and puts it down“ I know don’t even bro“ you sigh as the couch sinks farther. You look up to see geto lighting a blunt. He notices you staring “what don't act like you don’t smoke ms cheerleader“ he lights it and takes a hit leaning back man spreading. You take a hit after him and he laughs “so I guess he want that video posted” you look at him confused and nod your head no even though he cheats on you how else you gon get money.
 You pass the blunt back and he looks at you “look let's make a deal you forget about your shitfaced boyfriend nd spend the week with me yea” you stare at him for a minute then finally respond “sure but keep your end of the bargain” he stares into your eyes instantly reading your every expression before taking a hit then smiling “trust you’ll forget all about him baby” he says before roughly kissing you.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°❀
 He wraps his hand around your neck squeezing softly pulling you into his lap breaking the kiss. “lets see how wet that cunt is” he slides your sweats off and rubs your clit through your panties. you let out a whimper in response as he starts increasing speed and eventually stops “how bout we call your boyfriend yea? make one noise and ill ruin his fucking life yea?” you nod as he picks up his phone and calls travis.
 He slides his finger up and down your slit collecting your juices Travis picks up and you hear a murmur of his voice as Suguru slides two fingers in immediately fingering you fast and hard. “yea she came over” he hits your g-spot and you accidentally let out a loud moan and he mutes his mic and stops fingering you “what I told you ? You're lucky your pretty” he unmutes and continues fingering you squelching filling his ears “my bad just my loud neighbors” your eyes roll back as he whispers in your ear to cum and you cream all over his fingers soaking your panties and his pants “yea we all cool though come over soon I gotta surprise f’ya” he laughs then hangs up still fingering you making your legs tremble underneath him. 
He pulls his fingers out and flips you on your back “awh look at how wet she is f’me” he pulls your panties off and throws them somewhere on the floor. He kisses your thighs up  and down leaving bite marks and hickeys. He stops and looks you in the eyes before sucking your clit and shoving two fingers back into your dripping hole. “Fuck geto I cant fuck take it” you scream out still sensitive from your previous orgasm, hearing this he only goes faster your walls clench around him and you let out another loud moan and squirt all over his face. You feel him smile as he devours you and your juices. “Put that pretty mouth to use nd get on your knees” you follow his orders and get on your knees between his legs he pulls his pants down exposing his huge boner  you bite your lips and lean in to kiss his tip and he lets you tipping his head back with a groan. 
 You take his tip in your mouth and go down a third of the way and gag stroking the parts you can’t get while geto takes his shirt off. He finally takes his shirt off and throws it to the floor. You try to go lower but you gag and your eyes water “uht uht go down you can do it“ he pushes your head all the way down lifting your head up and down. He throws his head back and bucks his hips up into your mouth. He pulls out to let you breathe then shoves it back into your mouth bucking up into your mouth using it as a fuck toy “fuck baby your mouth is so good” he says while creaming down your throat you swallow as he lifts you up by your face and starts making out with you sloppily he gets up and picks you up by your knees and carries you to his bed while making out with you.  
He lays you down “flip over on your stomach” you oblige and flip over face down ass up waiting for him. He rubs his tip on your ass “wait isn’t he coming“ he looks at you puzzles and nods yes “wait we can’t he will literally ruin me” you try to get up but geto holds you down “now you know you want this dick. he doesn’t even fuck good fuck him” you smile at his words still getting that gut feeling that this is wrong. “fine okay” he laughs and shoves his length into you immediately thrusting in and out slapping his balls on your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fucks up into your cervix and pushes up onto the bulge in your belly  “FUCK geto its its to much I can’t-“ he cuts you off pushing your head into the sheets you hear groans coming from above you. “awh my pretty slut can’t take it ? That's too bad” he grins and pounds you even harder making you scream and writhe under him. 
Geto flips you over on your back and you can't even look him in the eyes, that's how dazed you are. He slips back in with a groan you don’t know how long its been since you guys started fucking maybe an 10 minutes maybe 30 you don’t know. You dont even know how many times you’ve came around his dick, you snap out of your thoughts as geto slaps your thigh “damn ma I got ya that fucked up” he laughs and starts rubbing your clit.
You feel his dick twitch as you tighten around him even more. He leans down to sloppily kiss you and you tangle your hands into his hair as you spasm all over his dick. After a few more thrusts he finally creampies you. As you're laying down with geto you both hear a knock and he grins “well look at that” he laughs as he kisses your forehead and gets up to put shorts on and get the door.
A/n: intro is too short but oh well & i MIGHT do a prt 2 to Love Galore or update it idk (for the person who suggested) bye lovess🕊️💗
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tillthelandslide · 7 months
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Same For You: (4) No Need to Explain
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Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...
A/n: okay.... Here's part 4, honestly I am so so excited for you guys to see what it's in store for this series, every chapter I am more and more proud of and I am really enjoying working on this, it's actually making me so happy and I love this series (never thought I'd say that about my own work) I know it's a bit slow to get going but please bare with me.... It will be worth it truth me! Love you lots - Lou 🫶🏼
IM SORRY I JUST COULDN'T WAIT TO POST IT...
Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername (if you want to be added please just drop me a message 🫶🏼)
Series Masterlist
(3) The Deal
Matty's house was very... Plain? She was unsure whether that was the appropriate word to describe it, she liked it, it felt arty and edgy, but she preferred a space that felt like home. Of course there were things scattered around his house that screamed "Matty". Things that added a special touch to his space, but she felt a little lonely looking around the hallway, following the man into his kitchen.
"Nice place" she comments, not entirely telling the truth. His eyes find her face and he scans it, noting the way she smiled but how it didn't quite reach her eyes, a tell tale sign of her lying.
"Really? Doesn't really seem liked your kind of thing" he asks and she pulls a funny face at him, not able to lie. He only chuckles at her as he clicks the kettle on.
"Bit too neat for my liking..." She says and he laughs again. His house was visually pleasing, she'd be silly to deny that, but it didn't feel lived in. She likes the feeling she got when she went back to her mother's house, the warm feeling in her stomach, her heart feeling like it was back home again. She didn't get that from Matty's place and looking around the room, she didn't see how he could feel that way either.
"You can call me boring love, it's fine....I won't take offense" she shakes her head, and again he's laughing. She gets that feeling in her stomach again, it dips and then soars and she thought it was only one reserved for Ross, but now, sitting across from Matty, she's learning that maybe that wasn't the case.
"No... No not boring, just wasn't what I expected is all. I like it, it's very aesthetic. Just not as homey as I personally like..." She pauses as she looks around the room, even his kitchen was clean cut and raw, there weren't many decorations and if she didn't know him she'd think he'd just moved in.
"Does it not get lonely? I can imagine it would" she says and if she was asked, she'd blame it on the alcohol she'd consumed. She takes in the furrow of Mattys eyebrows and the way he runs a hand along his chin as he looks at her. Matty quite liked the way she was unwaveringly honest with him, she didn't hold herself back despite people typically doing so when they hadn't known each other all that long. Matty was like that too... Another similarity that drew them together.
"Sorry....I'm intruding" she says just as the kettle clicks, Matty turns away from her, attending to the tea.
"How'd you take it love?" He asks, ignoring the desire to take the piss out of his own words, make an innuendo just to ease some of the tension. But he then thinks it's better to just welcome it, for it was with her, if it was her asking questions that made him slightly uncomfortable, he knew he wouldn't mind all that much.
"Milky please... Two sugars" she says and he makes it how she likes, turning back to her and placing the tea in front of her.
"We can sit in my living room if you'd like? Slightly more 'homey" then the rest of the house" he jests and she raises a hand over her heart, feigning hurt.
"You're never going to let me live that down are you?" She says and she begins following him to the other room.
"I mean, I invited you into my home and so far all you've done is take the piss" he jokes, he sits down, quite close to her considering the sofa was large enough for three. He sees her shiver and he sighs.
"hold this a second" he asks, despite the fact he has a coffee table. She does as he says and their fingers graze before he disappears, running upstairs. Whilst he's gone she takes in the two mugs she's holding and the sight brings a genuine smile to her lips.
His is a white mug with red writing that reads "world's best dad", whilst he's given her another white mug that reads "some people just need a high five" in big letters with smaller letters underneath that read "in the face with a chair" she chuckles out loud and she can hear Matty hum from upstairs.
She then hears him run back down the stairs, before he's standing before her again, a large hoodie resting in his arms.
"Here" he says, handing it to her.
"thanks" she says, handing him both cups as she tugs the jumper over her head. It seems like cigarettes and him and the edges are frayed but the fabric underneath is soft and feels warm against her skin. The fabric was creased, it had been worn recently, he had worn it and again that warm fuzzy feeling appears in her stomach. She tries to push it away as she peers across at him, taking in the small smile that rests against his mouth, she watches his eyes rake down her form and her mouth goes dry. She shouldn't be feeling like this, it was wrong.
"cute' he comments as he gives her the mug back, she simply smiles at him. He holds his cup in one hand, resting his arm around the back of the sofa, hand resting next to her head as they look at each other.
"Nice mugs" she laughs again and his eyes flick between the mugs, bringing the hand that's next to her up to his face when he realises what he's done.
"I'm so sorry" there's no real reason to apologise so she brings her hand to his and takes it away from her face and squeezes it, shaking her head at him.
"It's fine... I like them - very you" he raises his eyebrows at that and she laughs again, he laughs alone with her after a beat. Eventually when their laughter dies down, his eyes flick to her their intertwined hand and he feels himself blush. His mind flicks to Ross, and he immediately pulls his hand away (although gently as to not offend her) and he places it back next to her head.
"To answer your question earlier... Yes, it gets lonely" he says and she smiles sadly at him.
"Bet you're hardly here though right? Always on the road?" She asks and he nods.
"Yeah... Don't spend that much time here... Sometimes makes it worse to be honest" he says and she frowns at him.
"How so?"
"When we're on tour, I got my boys y'know. The truth is, they're home to me... So when I'm here and they're not... It's just lonely" he says and she nods, understanding. She leans her head against his hand, and he smiles at her as she does. Her cheek is warm against the skin there and he feels electricity spark against his hand.
He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and grasp her face in his hold, never letting her go... But he couldn't... Not when it was clear Ross was also interested. He debates whether to bring up the bassist and despite knowing he shouldn't, he can't help it.
"Looked awfully cosy with Ross tonight... Wearing his jacket and everything" Matty comments. She knew something was up earlier, and she feels conflicted that he seems to be bothered by it. She felt more than confused about her feelings, it was obvious she cared for Matty too much already, he made her smile and laugh, and she had that warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach when she spoke to him.
But Ross excited her, she wanted to know everything there was to know about him, she also felt at home with the man. He could smile and her heart would soar and her hairs would stand on end. She was fucked.
"You don't like that" she says, it wasn't a question, it was a statement and Matty doesn't know how to respond.
"I wouldn't say that no... I dunno y/n. I feel sort of protective over you. Not that Ross would do anything bad. Quite the opposite. I dunno. It's complicated"
Complicated didn't even begin to describe it. She had never felt this way before, she couldn't pinpoint what she felt for the both of them, but she also felt horrible because the truth was she hardly knew either of them yet, not truly, not for long enough.
"Nothing will happen if you don't want it to" she says and she doesn't really know why she does, it just slips out. She didn't know how to feel and clearly her brain wasn't functioning properly. She knew ideally she shouldn't be thinking about either of them this way, she was working with them now. It was unprofessional.
"Do you want something to happen?" He asks and he watches as she removes her face from against his hand, taking a sip of her tea as she shrugs.
"I hardly know either of you Matty... And I'm about to be working with you both. So it's not a good idea" she says and he nods slowly, eyes wandering over her facial features, fingertips plucking his lips, rolling the bottom one between his thumb and finger. As he looks at her in can't help but find a flaw in her words, they did know each other, maybe they hadn't known each other for very long but he already knew things about her that made him care for her deeply, that made him yearn for her.
"Okay... But ignore that for a second. What do you feel?" He asks and she just laughs, because she couldn't give him an answer. She didn't know. Or she was in denial.
"I don't know" she says honestly. The only way she could describe it, was that she felt a pull towards the both of them, she was unsure what that meant, or whether that meant she liked one or the other, but she knew when she was with Matty, she didn't feel so alone, he was with someone who was similar to her, who understood the dark parts of her soul.
But when she was with Ross, she felt like she was the person she wanted to be, someone desired, someone wanted. Ross represented a different part of herself, someone free, someone happy, someone who finally felt at home and she liked who she was and how she felt when she was around him.
"Hmm" he doesn't press any further and instead they both finish their tea and she explains that she should head home soon. She retrieves her phone from Matty's coat pocket, the both of them standing at his door as they wait for the Uber to arrive. She peers at the time, 1:02 it reads and she frowns slightly, seeing a text from Ross. She's still wearing his hoodie and she doesn't plan on taking it off and he smiles at that.
"Thank you for the tea" she says and somehow his hand weaves its way into hers, most of it is hidden under the fabric but his hand slips beneath it, grasping the warm but small hand in his.
"You're welcome" he says, pulling her towards him to hug her tightly. His arms wrap around her waist, and he pulls her up slightly, forcing her on her tip toes. Her arms weave their way across his shoulders, tucking her head to the side against his chest as his tuck into her neck.
She feels his breath caressing her skin and feels the symphony of his heart, drumming against her ear. It was intimate, it was nice. He sighs deeply and she feels his lips contort into a smile against her neck, they weren't pressed against the skin but they grazed it. Goosebumps. She had goosebumps.
"Let me know when you're home okay?" She nods into his embrace "and maybe... If you figure out how you're feeling... Give me a text" he says and his words surprise her, she doesn't know what they mean, or what he wants. She pulls away from the man, looking up into his eyes and nodding. Their hands don't let go of each other until their fingertips are unable to touch anymore and finally they drop.
She then slips into the Uber and feels even more confused then she initially did, especially when she sees two more texts from Ross.
"Love? Xx" One reads.
"I'm hoping you've just fallen asleep... Won't take offense this time 😋xx" the next reads.
"I'm so so sorry! I wasn't ignoring you I swear.. Matty left his keys in his coat and I dropped them off. On my way home now though. I promise I'm safe xx" she replies back, seeing three dots appear before they disappear again.
She frowns at that, did she upset him?
❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ •°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀
She meets with the band the next day, explaining the plans in further detail to them. They all (apart from Jay) seem to be okay with the idea, excited to be working the band.
"Alright Jay stop being a dick, you could've easily come to the meeting with y/n and had your say but you didn't... So now majority rules and you're going to have to deal with it" Abbie argues, standing up for her friend which ultimately y/n is thankful for.
Jay sighs and pouts whilst the rest ask some more questions, all of which she answers happily.
"So Matty is really keen to have all of us in the studio together, give us a chance to get to know everyone... We can sit down and show them what we've got if we want... Or start from scratch" y/n explains, they all nod, smiling widely.
"I'm so fucking hyped man" Clara says making everyone laugh "this is going to be epic" she says and y/n cant help but smile widely as she speaks.
Eventually everyone has to leave for their day jobs, but y/n says at the coffee shop, receiving a text from Ross.
"Want to grab that coffee we spoke about? Xx" she's thankful that he's not annoyed or upset enough to completely ignore her.
"Absolutely! I'm actually at a place now, was just catching up with the band but they've gone to work" she says, texting him the address after. He arrives maybe 10 minutes later and she can't help but smile widely when he walks through the door. He wears a black hoodie that is big but not so big it drowns him, she can still make out his good figure, and the way his chest still sits flush against the fabric. A pair of old blue jeans rest against his legs and her eyes can't help but find his thighs, despite her brain telling her not to.
He walks over to the counter, quickly ordering himself a drink before he makes his way over to her. Placing his drink down so he could properly say hello.
She stands up to greet him, the pair meeting in a tight hug. She hears him sigh against her and she swear she can sense how wide he's smiling. And he's there again, invading her senses, completly taking them over, commanding them.
"Hi" he says as they pull away from each other.
"hi" she smiles as she sits down, leaning on the palm of her hand as she looks across at him. He begs himself to get a grip, heart increasing tenfold as he looks at her, she looked so adorable sitting there like that, the jumper she's wearing, hooked up over her hands to keep her warm.
"So... You said the others went to work? What are you still doing here then?" He asks and she smiles.
"Well... Lucky for me music is my day job" she says and he raises his eyebrows up at her.
"Yeah I write songs for other artists, I've got a small studio in the garage of our house" she says, referring to the band who all live together. "I make stuff for other people as and when the offers there"
"Wow, that's cool... Show me what you're working on at the moment?" He asks and she slides the open note book towards him, their fingertips graze as she hands it to him and they hold eye contact for far too long before his eyes slowly wander down to the paper, reading the words on the page.
"This one is actually for us... Maybe" she says, referencing the band again. She forces the words out despite the way her breath is failing her. Did he feel it too? The way it felt like electricity buzzed between them when they made contact? The way it felt like time slowed as they looked into each other's eyes? The way it felt so god damn difficult to break the eye contact that just felt right?
Her handwriting is small, neat and delicate and he smiles as he reads over the words. His mind flicks to the idea of seeing her write his name, a random thought, a slightly obscure desire but one the man suddenly feels himself in dire need of.
"Not my best work..." She says and he flicks his eyes to meet hers, shaking his head.
"What?" She asks, leaning back against her chair, arms crossed. She looks so cute like that, he thinks, all stubborn and pouty, almost mad that he wasn't just saying what he was thinking. Instead he was shaking his head, sending unclear and blurry messages her way. She wants nothing more than to crawl inside his mind and be able to see every thought, touch every desire and set alight all his doubts.
He feels himself wanting to lean forward, to do something to stop that look, to make her smile at him, for him. A boop of her nose that would make it crinkle in a way that would somehow make her look even cuter. Maybe he could graze his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss, feeling the way her breath hit his lips, hearing the way she'd giggle that giggle that he was already obsessed with. Maybe he could lean forward until his lips were nearly touching hers and just maybe when the tension became too much she'd give in, drop that look from her face and just have to kiss him, because she wouldn't be able to handle the distance apart anymore.
But he couldn't do that, he couldn't do any of it.
"Can't believe you can't see how amazing you are" he says, beginning to read part of what she had written out loud. She tries not to cringe at him speaking her own words.
"You can feel it in your soul Close your eyes and lose control Set it free and let it go Now I'm gonna let you know You'll never stop these changing roads This is the way our story goes"
"That's amazing love" he says and she blushes deeply.
"It's okay... You should really hear the demo to get the full experience" she says and he smiles.
"Tell me about it" he says, leaning forward, clinging on to her every word. She goes on to explain how she did an arrangement of strings and different sounding guitars, the song building up as you listen, and Ross can't get enough, asking question after question, just wanting a peek into her brain.
"Wow... Sounds impressive" he says.
"Thanks" she tilts her head down slightly to shield her face from him, which was tinted red at the cheeks. Her hair falls in front of her face and this time he can't resist leaning forward and hooking it behind her ear.
"You look very pretty today" he comments making her blush even more.
"Thanks..." She seems shy now and Ross finds himself liking the change in her behaviour, proud that he drew that from her. Her phone buzzes on the table and his eyes flick down to it at the same time hers do, reading "Bestie", Ross's eyebrows furrow at it, wondering again if his speculations were right.
"Sorry... It's just Matty" she says, placing her phone back down without replying. Ross doesn't know how to feel about the fact he was named that in her phone, or how to feel that he was texting her. But he quite likes how she doesn't reply, giving him her attention. He remembers her text last night and feels guilty he invited it. But the truth is he didn't know how to reply without making it obvious he was jealous.
"Just recommended me a song to listen to" she explains. Ross can't explain how the fact she was open with him, the fact that she told him exactly what the text was about, instead of leaving him guessing... He couldn't explain why he felt happy, but he did. His mind still flicks back to last night though.
"So... You went to his last night?" He asks, taking a sip from his coffee cup, attempting not to sound jealous or bitter.
"Yeah... The idiot left his keys in the coat. I just had a cup of tea and then went home" that piece of information appeases Ross and he pushes the unwanted and perhaps unneeded jealousy aside.
"He does make a mean brew" his tone has changed now and y/n sighs, feeling a pressure removed from her shoulders. Ross smiles at her and she smiles back.
"You know nothing's happening with Matty right?" She doesn't quite know why she asks it. But she felt like she had to, it was obvious something was happening between her and the bassist (whether it should be or not) and she didn't want him thinking something that wasn't true.
"oh" he says simply, he was then the one that was blushing, embarrassed that it was that obvious he had a problem with it.
"It's hard to explain but... Matty and I are really similar... I see myself in him a lot. And I guess that just draws us together a little bit y'know?" She asks and he nods.
"You don't have to explain yourself y/n, it's fine" but he smiles and secretly likes that she explains, that she tells him the truth. It saves him stressing about what was going on with her and Matty (although he still does, or perhaps just a little less than he usually would). And he supposes it makes her intentions a little clearer, less foggy.
"I know... But I want to" she says and he smiles wider now, reaching for her hand, deciding to cast any apprehension aside and just do what he wanted, which right now, was holding her hand.
The pair begin to talk about everything, finally getting to know each other the way they wanted. And again she feels like she's known him for years. She's surprised to find out how funny he was and how forward he could be, how flirty he was when he wanted. She wasn't surprised to find out that he was kind, unbelievably so and maybe too much for his own good, it was obvious how deeply he cared for others.
She found herself wanting, no, needing, to spend more time with him and the idea that they'd be working with each other made her feel undeniably happy.
When they eventually have to go their separate ways, the hug lasts a little bit too long to be considered friendly, and the way his hands drop to hold hers, not letting them go until someone has to literally squeeze past the pair, has her heart beating fast (which only returns to normal when she's far far away from him).
Ross made the blood in her veins redundant, it wasn't carrying oxygen to her body to keep it alive for the oxygen she needed to breathe was replaced by him when they were together. It wasn't air that she needed to survive, it was him. Ross caused her heart to play it's own symphony, one in which was vibrant and beautiful and made her question how she lived without him up until now.
She was well and truly obsessed, she didn't know whether this was right or wrong, whether she was delusional or of sound mind, whether this was good or bad. But one thing was for certain, whatever this was, there was no stopping it now, no matter how hard she tried to. Although neither of them knew that yet...
© all lyrics are written and owned by yours truly (let's ignore the fact they're not that good but yeah) no stealing hehe
(5) Changing Roads
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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
Text
Ring Of Fire (Lucifer x Female!Reader) pt.2
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a/n: we're taking a turn for the weirder, next chapter will be slightly more comfort than hurt (you know, as much as i know how to write comfort). for now, all we have is darkness and edginess. Cross-Posted on AO3
Warnings: Dub-Con (wow that never fking happens on this blog), Soulmates, Emotional Torture, Biting (not the sexy kind), like...a teeny tiny smidge of cannibalism.
Summary: The psychological torment of being chosen for the Devil tips over as he visits you in your sleep.
PT.1
At first, you're not aware that you're dreaming. A strange haze falls over your vision, as if you've just woken up from a devastating fever. Your limbs sway slowly, like you're treading through honey. It fascinates you, the way the light of a streetlamp flickers over your fingers, as you raise your hand. Bare feet on the concrete, your toes contract, pebbles stuck to the skin. The air feels weird on your skin, like liquid pouring over your form in an invisible cascade. It feels real enough, yet so far away. 
You remember falling asleep on Bobby's guest bed, brought down by the events of the night. What were those events, you couldn't remember, but you can smell smoke swirling in your nose and your eyes are puffy with tears. You sniffle, swipe your hand across your face and feel as if by this simple gesture, your skin has been pulled like fresh taffy. Perhaps you have died in your sleep. The thought is, for some reason, incredibly funny to you, and from somewhere far away you can hear a voice, strangely similar to yours, giggle. It echoes through your skull like a church bell, and you groan at the reverberating sound. 
- Crossroads? Really? - you turn around without any grace in your movement, as another voice rings out right next to you.
Your breath catches in your throat and you can feel all the muscles in your body constric, then relax forcefully, as if some invisible strength was trying to keep you docile. 
There he stands. So human, so plain, it tugs on your heart in a way you were not expecting. Lucifer. His hands clasped in front of him, red spots and abrasions decorating his skin in a grotesque display. Sick, your brain supplies, he looks sick, as if he's starting to rot where he stands, and suddenly, in this strange dream the worst possible feeling comes to surface. You pity him, truly and deeply. Normally you'd jot it down to caring for the poor man he has chosen for his temporary vessel, but here, where reality doesn't exist, you can't force yourself to entertain this lie. Your fingers flex at your sides, a need to heal, to help, pushing at them to come forward, to cradle his face like he did to yours.
God help you, you wanted to help this monster.
Then, his words register in your brain, and you finally look around.
You're in the middle of a cement road, somewhere you don't recognize, and sure enough, there is a crossroad. You haven't been to one in such a long time. Not since Dean got dragged to hell and pushed by grief, you were about to do something unbelievably stupid. You remember begging. Actually begging a demon to take your soul, to save your friend, only to be met with a cruel laughter and emptiness so profound, it nearly broke you. Shame washes through you like a sudden wave, and you try to keep some integrity by encircling your chest with your arms. It does you little to no comfort, and Lucifer cocks his head to the side, as if he's in tune with your emotions. 
- Do you dream of this place often? - Lucifer asks, walking around you at a slow pace.
You don't know how to respond. Do you? Perhaps that is the case, perhaps somehow you've always had some sort of connection to the crossroads, where the most wicked of deals were made. Perhaps it was all his fault, from the very beginning. You nod, once, not trusting your own voice, and the Devil flashes you a quick smile, before his expression darkens, as if he's deeply in thought. There are prominent shadows falling over his face, his eyes sunken even more than you remember. 
- I can't find you - he finally looks up at you, and your heart stops just for a second - You're invisible to me, I wonder, why is that?
Castiel, you immediately think, and you have to look away from him at the memory of your friendly neighborhood Angel carving Enochian symbols into your bones. It's almost like you can feel them, beneath your skin, beneath the muscle and the guts. Not hurting, not really. Just, there. A constant reminder, that you're hunted by a being that feels entitled to your very existence. Being, which is currently taking small steps towards you, looking over your body as if you were a piece of prime meat in a display case at a grocery store.
- You're hiding from something you cannot stop - he says, and you feel the coldness of his breath on your collarbones - It's Dad's will after all. 
That, for some reason, wakes you up from your previous stupor. Shaking your head, you try to take a step back, a litany of "no's" spilling from your lips. To that, he frowns, grabs at your shoulders to keep you in place, and with a sudden wave of horror you realize, you can't move. And you want to move so badly, your body feels as if it's tearing itself in half. White fire, cold burning floods you, when his hands make contact with your skin, fingers skimming over the flesh of your arms, dragging down and down, until they grab at your wrists. 
- I don't want this - there's conviction in your voice you were not expecting, because truly and deeply, you fucking hate this situation, this responsibility which has been placed upon you without your knowledge or consent.
Lucifer laughs an airy laugh.
Gently, as if you're a porcelain doll, he brings your hands closer to his face. He maneuvers your fingers, eyes watching with fascination at the way your knuckles move under your skin. The tendons, the veins, he swallows it all with a greedy gaze, and the coldness of his breath makes hairs stand at the back of your neck. 
- I'm not particularly thrilled by this revelation myself - he whispers to your fingertips - I mean, isn't this insulting? To force me to care for a thing I swore to hate.
You shudder at the sudden harshness in his voice, and his hands dig further into the meat of your wrist. Reminding yourself that this is just a dream, you try to steel your nerves, focus on leveling your breathing, on freeing yourself from his grasp. It's harder than you anticipate, trying to collect any sort of self-preservation, while your mind is cradled by the smothering blanket of whatever dream-magic has been placed on you. 
- But then again, I am a child of an absent father - something akin to mirth flashes through his face, and as he looks up at you, eyes gleaming with something you're too scared to decipher, you're convinced you'll never truly escape him - And such a gift... - he sighs deeply within his chest, pressing the scarred surface of his cheek to your palm - Well, who am I to deny it?
Your face twists into an expression of disgust, and with a whine, you tear yourself away, craning your body as far from him as it is willing to go. Which arguably isn't much. His grip on your body tightens, arms digging into you, as he forces a perversion of a hug onto your unwilling frame.
- I've killed for less - he whispers into your ear, and revels in the way your entire body shivers - You're really lucky, and I don't think you quite realize how much. 
- I don't want to be lucky - painted nails dig into the cotton of his shirt, as you try your hardest to hurt him, force him to back up, or just react to your defiance in any other way than patronizing indifference. - I want nothing to do with you, I don't want you.
To that, he humms low in his throat, and you whimper, as cold lips descent upon the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. You can't truly describe the kind of fear he brings upon you, but your entire body seems to surrender despite your best efforts at doing otherwise. Must be magic, you reason. He must've placed you under some kind of a spell, there is no other explanation.
- Don't you think you're being just a tad ungrateful? - he asks, nose dragging along your artery - I mean, here I am, ready to love you, to care for you, to accept you as the gift that you are... - he takes a long drag of your hair, savoring the scent as your knees start to buckle - And you're ready to throw it all away because, what exactly? Because I'm what my Father has made me?
- Because you're a monster, only capable of hurting others - you seethe through your teeth, and immediately get cut off, when presses your bodies tighter together, something worryingly similar to a growl resounding deep within his chest. 
- Is that what you think?
You've made a mistake, immediately you can recognize that. Playing the tough guy in front of the literal Devil, while having no real idea of the supposed bond tying you both together, wasn't your smartest moment. Cold sweat forms on your forehead, when Lucifer extends his hands out, fingers digging into the flesh of your arms. Then, looking at you from that small distance, he gives you a strangely bored look. Like he has seen everything you've done play out in front of him a million times, like he knows all there is to know about you. 
God save you, you hate that look more than any atrocity he has committed. 
- Don't look at me like that - bravery, or stupidity, you can't decide as words leave your mouth in a snarl. - You don't know anything about me. 
- I know all that's important - he counters - I know God made you for me.
He takes a step closer, and suddenly you've grown very tired of this constant dance. His hands massage their way towards your shoulders, where he grips you tight and drags you towards him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest, but he straightens you out forcefully, like you're some doll he can maneuver all he likes. 
- I know you're rebellious, just like me - his whisper seeps into your very being, as if you've become infected by his gentle tone - You're lonely, just like me.
You want to shake your head no, you really want to, but he keeps you frozen, enchanted by his sudden closeness, and the barely noticable note of vulnerability hidden in his grey eyes.
 Sam and Dean flood your mind. Your boys, your closest friends. The times you've spent together were few and far between, but you cherish them. You truly do. Which is why, your heart breaks at the realization, that Lucifer is right. Despite the bars, and the hunts, and the long drives, you're lonely. Loneliness follows you like a shadow, too ingrained into your bones to ever leave. But not right now, never when he's around. 
- It's okay, you know - Lucifer sighs, leaning down to kiss right between your collarbones - Sooner or later you'll realize, there's no shelter, no hideout where I wouldn't find you. That's true love, babe.
- Stop - a plea slips between your lips, quiet and pathetic, reminiscent of when you've fallen to your knees, begging a demon to bring your friend back.
What you were pleading for this time, you couldn't really comprehend, all you know is, you don't want to do this. You can't do this, and if this really was true love, wasn't he supposed to understand? 
The beating of your hear escalates, when he moves to grab at your face, hands so perfectly fitting alongside your jaw. He turns your head from side to side, as if wanting to commemorate every angle, etch it into his mind. If it were any other man, you'd be over the moon. If he wasn't a threat of catastrophic magnitude, just waiting to end the lives of your friends and everyone on Earth, you would've craned your neck further, given him access. Accepted your fate.
Yet, when his cold lips press into yours, it's so easy to forget why you've been unwilling all this time. He's gotten better at it, you muse, as he kisses your unmoving mouth, trying to pull some reaction out of you. Finally, you gasp, when he traps your bottom lip between his teeth, and bites down hard enough to draw blood. Immediately he takes advantage, thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw, until you have no choice, but to open up to him. It's nauseating, the way he kisses you, as if he needs to map out the insides of your mouth right this instance. 
Lucifer pulls away so suddenly, for a second you follow his mouth before steeling yourself. Blood trickles down from your bitten lips, and he launches at the small streak. Tongue laps at the skin of your chin, licking off every trace of red, and the sound he makes is downrigh sinful. Then, emboldened by your taste, his hands push upwards, the muscles of your neck straining, as he moves your head back. 
The skin of your throat is exposed and pulled taunt, and your entire body is ready to collapse, when he presses open mouthed kisses along your trachea. Then, as you let out a  whimper, he moves to the side, kissing and licking a line towards your pulse point. He stays there for a moment, dragging his teeth down the cullumn of your throat, hard enough to make you squirm in discomfort. From gentle coaxing, his ministrations took a sharp turn to roughter territories.  
- So sweet - Lucifer muses to himself, taking another whiff of your scent - I could just eat you up. 
Something in his tone of voice startles you. It's not a cute love confession, a cliche line from a romantic movie. From his lips, it sounds daunting, like a promise he can't wait to fulfill. Your eyes swipe downwards, but all you can see is the top of his head, as he dips down to further abuse your throat. He's not gentle by any means, all teeth and no comfort with the way he nibbles at the skin behind your ear. It's pleasurable, or it would be, if it were any other person, or a person at all. 
Then, the air seems to shift, a sinister streak you're not familiar with crawls the lenght of your back, and you tremble like a caught bird in his unwavering grasp. As if sensing the change, his hands switch the hold on your face, supporting the underside of your jaw and chin, pulling up and up, until you have to stand on your tippy toes. 
- Perhaps I should - ringing fills your ears as tears flood the corners of your eyes - Perhaps that will show you, who you belong to. 
And with that, he pulls back. Like a priest raising his cup at the Holy Communion, he raises your head, eyes roaming across the marks he has made on your throat. And then, he dives down, jaw open, teeth glistening in the darkness of the night. 
You can feel it all, as he tears through skin and muscle, sinking into your trachea as if taking a bite out of a ripe apple. Your scream sounds so far away, so muddled, for a moment you can't recognize it's you that's screaming. Then, he pulls back with a sickening, wet, tearing sound, and your voice dies down in a gargle. Blood floods your mouth, spills through your teeth, a waterfall of red soaking your entire front. Through hazy vision you see him chew and swallow, and the sight churns your insides, as you double over, bile quickly making it's way up what's left of your throat.
Except, it doesn't hit the pavement. It lands on the wooden floors of Bobby's guest room. Confusion barely registers in your panicked state, as you roll off the bed, grabbing at the gaping wound in your throat. A wound that isn't there at all. Phantom pain wrenches a series of shouts from you, like an animal caught in a trap. Begging from help. Knowing it will recieve none. The coarse surface of the floor scratches at your thighs, as you push yourself into a nearest corner, tears mixing with sweat on your face. 
That's when Dean rushes in, Sam right after him. Any other day, you'd consider their company a blessing, but right now all you can think of, is what Lucifer has in store for them. How he can hurt them, to get to you. Castiel teleports into the room soon after, and you wish the floorboards would open up and swallow you whole. 
- He was... - you wince, voice creaking like old hinges - He was in my dream.
That's all Sam needs to cross the room and kneel in front of you, gently pulling at your hands, which are still clutching the non-existent wound on your throat. The skin is red and raw, nail marks trail down from under your chin to your collarbones, but there is nothing else.
- I know - Sam whispers, arms encircling you in a warm hug, that just feels like entrapment - I know, I'm so sorry.
Deep down you know, he understands. The weight of being promised to the Devil, the torment he can bring upon a person, the fear. But right now, all you can feel are teeth, and lips, and hands which are too cold to be anything other than a monster.
Castiel has questions, you can see it, in the way his eyes scan the room, fall on your shaking frame, still pushed into a corner. He doesn't ask them, thankfully, opting to gruffly mutter something about checking the wards around the house. Bobby yells from his office, Dean yells back. You try to focus on the warmth coming from Sam's chest. You stay like that for a couple more minutes, before finally, calming down enough to stand up and wipe your tears off your face with a heavy hand. 
- We'll figure something out - Sam supplies his usual response to anything Apocalypse related.
What used to be a hopeful promise, right now sounds more like a hollow echo.
Dean keeps his opinions to himself, chewing on them as he hands you a beer fresh out of the fridge. Only when the liquid freezes it's way down your pipes, you are certain your throat is where it should be. Your brain is coming back as well, rebellion, loneliness, all the traits Lucifer has read from you. They mix with anger, slowly rising within your chest, because fuck that. Fuck him, fuck God and fuck every single entity responsible for your current predicament.
- Yeah - you force yourself to sound convinced - Yeah, we'll kick his fucking ass.
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honeybrowne · 2 years
Note
Since we’re talking about oral with Aaron (which was extremely hot btw). Imagine the reader has never had anyone go down on her before and hotch really wanted to. So he talks her into it and she’s skeptical but agrees. But as soon as he attaches his mouth and tells her “you’re so delicious baby” all skeptics are thrown aside and she cannot stop moaning because she didn’t know it could get better. But it does cause he’s just that good.
God I need to ride that man’s face
i am in full support of riding that man's face. if we are talking about this specific reader, i think that's something they'd have to work up to. so if you're interested in that, i wouldn't mind writing it 👀 also this got a little over 1k words so idk if it classifies as a blurb lmao
smut under the cut - 18+ only, minors dni!
"Let me make you feel good too," Aaron pleaded, tasting himself on your tongue as you kissed him.
He could feel you stiffen slightly at his words, your lips pausing against his before you pulled away. There was worry written all over your face, a furrow in your brow that he'd think was adorable if you didn't look so edgy.
"Uh, you don't have to," you responded feebly.
Aaron frowned too. "What do you mean? I want to," he assured, bringing you in for another kiss.
Not even the anxiety in your belly was enough to keep you from melting into him, finding comfort in how his hand cradled the back of your neck. You hoped he'd sense your apprehension and leave it alone, but you should've known better that he'd ask you about it, always wanting to see how you were feeling, especially when it came to sex.
"I want to taste you," he continued. "Make you feel good and hear your pretty moans that I love so much."
You sighed. "Aaron… I don't know."
His eyes searched your face, wanting to know why you were so against this. You've had sex before and made him come with your mouth not more than two minutes ago. What could possibly be the reason you were skeptical?
"Hey, talk to me. What's going on?"
He sat up straighter and tucked some hair behind your ear, patiently waiting for you to say something. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, fiddling with your fingers as you worked up the courage to tell him.
"No one's ever…" you paused, gesturing between your legs. "Been down there."
That only made him more confused. "Baby, we've had sex already. I know it wasn't anything crazy, but I hope it wasn't that forgettable."
"What? No," you shook your head. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant no one has ever gone down on me before," you clarified.
Aaron blinked a few times, shocked. He knew you weren't the most experienced with sex, but he also knew you had tried a few things in the past. The fact that someone had you and didn't devour you surprised him. The only reason he hadn't yet was that everything happened so fast when you slept together, and you were too tired for him to do it after.
Clearly, this was something you were self-conscious about, and he wasn't going to push you to do something you weren't ready for, but he wanted to assure you that it wouldn't be as scary as you thought.
"I'm not trying to pressure you, but I think you'll enjoy it, sweetheart," Aaron expressed. "Did your partners from before say something that is making you so nervous?"
You were quiet for a moment before you nodded, giving him the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, making his heart ache.
"They said that it never tastes good and it's not enjoyable for them, so there was no point in trying with me," you whispered.
"Baby, I promise that isn't true. Let me try with you," he proposed, rubbing your thigh lovingly. "And if you don't like it, I'll stop, but please just give me the chance to prove them wrong."
Despite your hesitance, you trusted Aaron more than anyone else. You knew he'd never do anything that would make you uncomfortable, so you ultimately agreed. He smiled when you told him yes, helping you onto your back and placing a pillow beneath you.
He started off with a few gentle kisses to your lips, not making any sort of move downward till your body relaxed.
Once he felt like you were okay for him to start, he carefully kissed his way down your body, paying close attention to your face. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth, your eyes fixed on him because it was more attractive than you imagined to see him between your legs like this. He gave you a reassuring smile when he reached for the waistband of your panties, asking if he could take them off.
You nodded and lifted your hips when he gave you a questioning glance. "I'm okay. You can take them off."
"Remember that you're in control, baby. Don't be afraid to tell me to stop or let me know what feels good and what doesn't."
"Okay," you whispered, swallowing harshly.
Aaron circled his arms around your thighs, placing delicate kisses along the insides before licking a thick stripe up your slit. You gasped at the feeling, one of your hands flying to the back of his head that you quickly retracted, unsure if he'd want you to do that.
Instead of saying it with words, he grabbed your hand and put it back, his lips latching onto your clit. You tugged on his hair, arching your back off the bed as his tongue swirled around your bundle of nerves.
He groaned into your pussy, barely pulling away to speak. "Fuck, you taste delicious, baby. So good."
All of your concerns were gone, along with your composure, moans tumbling from your lips nonstop. He was feasting on you, eating you like a man starved, desperate for a taste. You were on the cusp of your orgasm quicker than you'd ever been, the new, warm sensation of his mouth almost too much for you to handle.
You writhed as you came, his hold on you getting tighter as he kept you in place, wanting to drink every last drop of your arousal.
"Mmm, that's my girl," Aaron praised. "Tastes like fucking candy."
You were nothing but heavy breathing and complete bliss when he made his way back up, your slick shining on his nose and chin. He kissed you, wanting you to see for yourself that there was nothing for you to worry about, and you whimpered into his mouth, grabbing at his arms.
"How was that?" he asked when he pulled away, loving the look of desire in your eyes.
"Really good," you breathed.
He grinned. "Want me to do it again?"
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i-cant-sing · 10 months
Note
How do you're ocs treat Reader to a self care day?
Theodore is beating his chest with thunderous hands and opens his arms wide and that is your cue to fucking jump on him and let him cuddle you- cuddle the sadness, the depression, the fatigue OUT OF YOU. At least thats his idea of self care (that and shooting people... and breaking stuff... and causing chaos and destruction) but he'll compromise and do whatever you wanna do, as long as he gets to grumble and hold your hand (at least, he loves physical intimacy). Honestly, u can get him to agree anything u want if u just give him a kiss on the nose- and he will instantly melt. He will still complain, thats non negotiable.
Dimitri is a man of money. He will spend his entire account on you if it pleases you, and if retail therapy is your thing, girl u just hit the jackpot. Of course, hes down for seggsy times too, but thats really his idea of self care and if you wanna do something else, he can put his needs aside for now even though he promises you would've felt 100000 times better by the time he was done with you. But like i said, he's a rich guy, he will give u his credit cards and money if u wanna do something else. Hell, he's even rained them bills on you. "Do you want to jump on a pile of money, pchelka? Hm? I can arrange that for you, darling." (pchelka = little bee)
Eros... the golden boy, the charmer. He will literally sweep u off your feet with how sweet and caring he is omg he will actually drop everything he's doing the moment he hears you sigh out the wrong way. Like you take one breath way too deeply and he's right in front of you, holding your face ever so gently and asking you whats wrong. And you dont even need to tell him anything because he's just so darn smart and he can read you like an open book and thus, he knows what you need. He knows if its a "retail therapy" kinda day or "stay at home, do face masks and watch comfort movies" or "take long bubble baths together" kinda day. Please rant to him, he pays close attention to all of it and has the best and most appropriate reactions and... he just loves your voice. And the thing with Eros is that he doesnt just make it a self car day- no, its a self care days/week/months or however long HE deems that you need it. He's the best, i love him.
Magnus is... not the dude u wanna self care with. Like dont come to him and say "can i have some space/leave the house for a while because I desperately need some me time." because to him that means he needs to STEP TF UP and be there more for you as if u werent already tired of him breathing down your neck 24/7. "Hm, what did you say? You want some space? Oh but angel, that's not what you need. No, silly! God made us for each other, we're soulmates! And we need to be there for each other, in sickness and in health! Aww but I don't blame you for getting confused about what your body needs! Its what happens when you dont have a baby in you. And it has been a while since we had our last! I think its time for baby number 8! :D" And you best believe the cult members are glaring at you through the windows of your house, pointing their pitchforks at you to fucking follow your husband to the bedroom and let him put another baby in you or they will come in to help him do just that (and maybe beat u up a little when he's gone for baby shopping).
You say self care and Lucifer's mind goes to torturing souls and eternal damnation. But thats what he likes, and now that he likes you, he will let you express your preferences. I mean, personally he would kinda try to get u into adding more oil into the fire that burns souls, but he knows you dont like it when they scream... maybe he can pull their vocal cords out?? Hm, maybe. Lucifer allows u to do whatever you wanna do as long as you do it in hell/within the premises of his home(castle, really. Real edgy dark, satany theme going on). One time, you wanted someone to just hold u and since Lucifer is the only one who is allowed to touch you, you climbed into his lap and let him hold u for hours as he sat on his throne, and he swears he's never felt more content in his life than with you softly snoring in his arms and shuffling closer to him every now and then, with him carding a hand through your hair and kissing your soft cheeks.
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