#eg the red and white head

[skleech]

pupy

#Cerberus #Greek Mythology #based the design on how he's portrayed in some archaic vases #eg the red and white head #also yes i'm aware that's usually used to portray distance and background but i wanted to make it part of his design just for fun :] #my art

[whump-kia]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course.

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed! GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.

NO AI ALLOWED

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tag. Even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting), still tag emetophobia

If enough interest is showed, I will make an Ao3 collection

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! DO WHAT IS THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1, #whumperless day 1: [prompt], and #whumperless whump event

Tag me (@whump-kia) please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used!

Again, make sure to trigger tag and content warn

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump prompt #whump event #whumperless whump event #whumperless whump #situational whump #sickfic

[wavesmp3]

young & stupid

yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)

you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.

genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol

Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.

Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.

So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.

But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.

“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”

He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”

This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”

“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.

“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”

You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.

“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”

You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?

And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.

You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.

You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”

He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.

“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”

You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.

He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”

And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.

It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.

“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.

“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“

You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.

“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”

Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.

“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”

You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.

That fucker.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.

Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”

“That was their third time asking me out.”

“And?”

“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”

“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”

He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”

You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.

“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”

“East campus. The Austin Complex.”

He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”

You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”

“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”

“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”

He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.

“Are you crazy?”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“People will honk.”

“It’s 1 am.”

You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.

“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”

He passes the light just as it turns red.

—

You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.

And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.

You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”

“Payback.”

You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

Fuck. Did you say that outloud?

“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”

You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”

“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”

“Lubinsky.”

Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”

“His quizzes are impossible.”

“Yeah, but he’s funny.”

You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”

He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”

“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.

“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.

“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”

You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”

He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”

You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”

“Yes.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.

Goddamn it–those eyes.

You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”

“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”

“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”

You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…

Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.

—

As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.

“Do it again.”

“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”

He points to your worksheet. “One more.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I thought you wanted an A.”

“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“Just do it.”

You groan and set up another integral.

To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.

Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.

You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“

You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”

Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.

He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.

“So can we take a break now?”

He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”

You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.

“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”

“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”

“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”

You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cocks his head. “No?”

You shake yours. “No.”

“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”

“How come you haven’t asked?”

He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.

You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”

“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.

“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”

“So why’d you date him then?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.

The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”

He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”

Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”

He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”

Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”

His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)

“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”

You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”

He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.

—

You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.

You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.

“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”

You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”

“If we kissed?”

“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”

“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”

You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.

“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”

“Probably?” You echo.

“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.

You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”

He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?

“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”

And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”

He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.

And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?

Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.

“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”

You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.

He points to your cup. “Shot?”

You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”

—

Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.

—

The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.

“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”

“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)

“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”

You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”

Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.

“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.

“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”

Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.

“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”

Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”

You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.

They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”

“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”

Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”

Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.

“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”

The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”

Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”

You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”

Joshua leans towards you. ���What?”

You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.

The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.

“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”

You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”

He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”

Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”

Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”

“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.

Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”

You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”

“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”

“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”

Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”

Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?

Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.

The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.

The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.

And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.

—

Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.

There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.

Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.

You swallow.

“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”

Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?

Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.

You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”

“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”

“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”

You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”

His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”

“It could be.”

Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.

“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.

“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.

Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”

And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.

Your phone buzzes.

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally

Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s

You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?

Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place

You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb

You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast

You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right

Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD

An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.

By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”

He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Mine? Why?”

“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”

“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”

He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”

You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”

He burps. “Because of me?”

The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”

“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”

You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”

He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”

“And the occasion was…?”

He looks you dead in the eye.

“You make me nervous.”

Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.

Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.

He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.

“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.

He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”

“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.

“But I’m really sorry.”

“And I really don’t mind.”

He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”

You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”

He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.

You mumble back a ‘thanks’.

“So, what’d you think of the game?”

You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.

“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”

“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”

“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”

You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”

“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”

“Which assignment? The chem lab?”

You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”

“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”

“Okay, you’re drunk.”

“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”

Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”

“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.

“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”

Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”

“Did you just cringe?”

“–you smell like vomit.”

“Well, do you have clothes for me?”

“No, but I have a couch.”

He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”

—

(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.

You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)

—

When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.

As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?

Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”

“Date?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.

“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”

“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”

You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.

The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.

“Come on, they’re so cute.”

“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”

“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”

“Good thing we’re not one.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”

You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.

—

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”

And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.

“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.

“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”

“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.

You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”

He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”

And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.

“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”

“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”

His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”

“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.

You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.

You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”

You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”

“Other than Soonyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”

You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”

He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”

“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”

He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.

He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”

His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”

“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”

He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”

You squint at him. “Why?”

And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”

He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”

“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”

The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”

“I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”

You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.

“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.

Did that just happen?

Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.

He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.

And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.

—

The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.

“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.

“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”

“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.

“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”

“Yeah, but the game was fun.”

“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.

“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”

That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.

Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”

“Like what?”

“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”

“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.

You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.

“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”

This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”

But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.

Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”

After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.

He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”

Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”

You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”

He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”

Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.

“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.

It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”

You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.

“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”

“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”

You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”

They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.

“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”

“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”

“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”

You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”

You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.

You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.

“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.

You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”

“What kind of rule is that?”

“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”

You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”

He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.

The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.

“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”

He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”

He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”

You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”

He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”

You kiss him.

You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.

The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.

He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.

A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”

“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.

1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.

2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.

3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?

4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?

5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.

6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”

7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”

8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”

10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.

11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.

12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”

13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”

14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”

15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?

16! Please, you want to beg, say something.

17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”

18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.

The rest of the numbers blur in your head.

—

(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)

—

You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.

By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.

You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.

—

You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.

By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.

Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”

“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”

“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”

You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”

“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”

You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.

You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.

Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.

“Seungcheol called me.”

His face twitches. “Why?”

“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”

He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”

You nod.

He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.

You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”

He nods.

“Do you want a ride back?

He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How would you get back to yours?”

“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”

The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”

He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”

He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“I’ll drop you home.”

You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.

Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”

“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”

Oh.

Oh.

Holy fucking shit.

He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”

You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”

He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”

You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I don’t think–”

“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”

He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.

He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.

You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.

You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.

Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”

You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”

“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”

You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.

And you can’t help it, you grin.

You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”

“I told you to–”

“I know what you said.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”

“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”

You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.

“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.

You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #svt scenarios #mine #young & stupid

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, non - con, manhandling, religious subtext (it's sydney)

Sydney has never felt this way before. He doesn't know the name of that feeling, the warmth that fills his chest and tightens his throat and reddens his cheeks as you sit before him at the library counter. He can't explain the pulse in his loins and the sweat that sticks to his back when you lean in to ask him something and your shirt opens up slightly, revealing such soft, mesmerizing skin. His hands start to itch and his mouth waters and he feels almost thirsty - but water never seems to quench whatever it is he's deprived of.

He wants to ask someone - maybe brother Jordan or his father, but something deep within him, some basic instinct, rings a bell, a reminder that there is nothing pure or holy about the feelings he harbors towards you. He knows love. He's read about it - he knows he loves God, he loves his church, his friends, his books. He knows love is gentle. Love is caring and tender and quiet, love is giving.

But when it comes to you, he only wants to take. He wants to bite your cheeks when you smile, to squeeze you in his arms until he hears your fragile bones crack. He wants to rip off your skin and crawl in your shell - to see your insides, to admire every inch of your flesh for his own sick satisfaction. He even keeps a box of everything you've ever lost - small trinkets, cheap bracelets, ripped socks, locks of hair... Anything to feel closer to you.

And yet Sydney tries to fight his urges - he averts eyes when you bend to pick something and pretends not to notice your bare legs in those mini skirts, the way the school swimsuit hugs your curves perfectly, or how your lips part when you bite down on a pencil. Or the marks of you teeth on the yellow wood, your smugded lipstick as you leave the bathroom, your hands on his shoulder with your nails digging in—

Sydney is a man of God, but you make him question his faith. In the sunlight everything is brighter, but when night comes, so do the nightmares. His pillow becomes softer, warmer - it lingers with the scent of your hair and he can't help imagining you laying next to him with an adoring smile on those luscious lips of yours. And as fatigue spreads over his tired body, his prayers long forgotten, the same dream haunts him - the one he's had since the day he first saw you.

You're no longer laying next to him - you're under him instead. Your hair isn't spread out angelically, but twisted and disheveled, wrapped around his fist. He's towering over you, tilting your chin up - holding you so tightly against his body you can't move an inch. Your eyes are red and swollen, lips bruised and bitten bloody - and you're trembling like an injured animal. You look so small, so pathetically adorable, so very naked and afraid, and splayed out like a feast in front of him, and he just devours you like the predator he knows he is.

You whine something incomprehensible along the lines of a plea, begging to be let go - but all your words become white noise to Sydney. His hands circle your throat painfully and only a few broken moans escape before you shut up completely. The man keeps thrusting into you without a sense of shame, egged on by the deep, inaudible sobs that shake your body to its core. The voice inside his head chants "mine, mine, mine" like a spell, like a curse that binds you both for all eternity.

Sydney always wakes up in cold sweat, unable to catch his breath. It's terrifying, seeing his darkest desires play out over and over each night. And as he tries to catch his breath and forget the taste of your neck on his tongue, there is one thought he never seems to fully rid himself of. How long until dreams are not enough to feed the monster inside of him?

How long until it all becomes reality?

#yandere #male yandere #dol sydney #degrees of lewdity #male yandere x reader #yancore #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere smut #yandere dol #yandere degrees of lewdity #yandere sydney #yandere dol sydney

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

If we're going for requests then I'd love a retake on WHB Satan's "demon energy" scene where he assumes that MC will be submissive but is swiftly corrected when he ends up on his back getting milked and overstimmed because the more energy the human gets the longer they stay alive, right? You might as well take as much as you can when you've got the chance

Yesss!! I actually adore this idea since the devils stop after one session, wouldn’t it so much smarter to milk them for all then can give? It would let you live longer than a few hours!

Also I cant belive I never thought about pre leaking from horns until I played this game!!)

(Imagine the kings not lasting as long as their subordinates<3)

Satan (overstim, milling, horn play (little bit), hair pulling, demon ‘energy’)

-

To have Satan, a king of Hell feeling you up and kissing you in your best friends room was…odd enough, you didn’t even notice you were on Minhyeok’s bed until Satan’s hands were on either side of your head.

You could feel him grinding against you, his arousal obvious as he growls, grinning down at you. “You look so good beneath me, don’t worry, I’ll take great care of you.” He hissed out. You raised an eyebrow.

Him taking care of you? Oh no no no, he must be mistaken.

You’d have to fix him.

You reach up as if to stroke his face, but reach past him, and grab a handful of his hair and yank down. Satan stiffens and resists only for you to yank harder, forcing his face right against yours. He moans in response, only egging you on.

“No, I’ll be taking care of you, ‘your Majesty’.” You felt his manhood give a clear throb against you. His clothes blocking the appendage from entering you as it’s owner grinds against you. You grab as much of his long hair as you could, twisting it in your hand before yanking with as much force as you humanly could to the side, making Satan lose balance and flop beside you.

You released his hair only to mount him.

“Oh, you’re far more brave than Solo-“ You try to grab his hair again to make him stop, but accidentally grab one of his horns. You on instinct stroke the smooth horn, it’s slick, your hand glides up it with ease. “O-oh! Fuck, like that!”

He bucks up involuntarily and you continue your stroking out of curiosity. He squirms under you, mewling and the second you bring your free hand to his other horn, his eyes close as he bites his lip. You hesitate upon feeling a liquid seeping from his horns.

“Oh shit, are you bleeding?” You ask as you let go of one of his horns to see the liquid was…white/clearish and didn’t gave a scent like blood would.

Satan tried to laugh but it turned to a moan when you leaned over and liked him his horn. It tasted…salty and it made your mouth water. “Oh, it’s what happens when demons enjoy things.” He half heartedly explained. “Ok, t-that’s enough teasing, I’m ready to take control again.” He moans out.

You laugh in response. “Satan, you’re not a king here, this isn’t even your room, I’m in charge here.” You yank his pants and undergarments down enough to free his cock. It stood up excitedly throbbing as pre leaked from the red tip. “So do I need to ingest your cum?”

Satan rolled his hips on instinct and his dick slaps against his stomach. “N-no I mean, it works best if it winds up inside you, or on you.” He shrugged. “Pretty much just let it touch you a-and it helps.” You see him pause for a second before he shouts. “Oh? You wanna dom me? Me!?” He barks out a laugh and gently shoved you.

“Satan, you are mine, I’m going to claim you today.” You purr out. He rolls his eyes but does not make an attempt to slip out from under you. You finally grab his cock, stroking it in tune with his horn, making him twitch his hips forward with every stroke.

Satan moaned in a feeble voice before he’s spilling cum into his out stomach. “J-just like that! F-fuck it feels amazing!” You could practically see hearts in his eyes as he bucks into your hand, he collapses against the bed and lets you stroke him past his orgasm. “I-ooh, hold on, it’s, it needs a few seconds between sessions.”

You didn’t stop or slow down, your strokes didn’t give him a break, instead causing some whimpers to escape him as he tries to wiggle free. “Calm down, I’m just getting the ‘energy’ I need, I mean I’ll be here for a while, right?”

Satan hesitantly stopped squirming, instead just twitching and trembling whenever your strokes get a particularly sensitive point. “T-take all you can, demons have great stamina!” He tried to boast even as you stimulate his cock and horn.

He tries to move you off of him only for your grip on his horn to tighten to a near hypnotizing tightness. You feel the clear liquid oozing from his horns. “Oh you like this?” You yank on his horn to force him to eye level with you. Satan follows your ‘guidance’ without resistance (though judging how sensitive his horns are, this might be as much resistance he can give.)

Satan hissed, making a half attempt to pull away when your nails graze his horns. “You-I-I’m supposed to be helping you!” You nod in acknowledgment.

“You aren’t really good at it. But I am feeling better! Maybe a few more times and I’ll be good!” Your hand sped up on his cock as your other hand clawed his sensitive horn. Satan cried out, bucking up on accident and spurring his next orgasm.

He gave a low growl as his swollen cock flexes a few times and he’s cumming on his own stomach again. This time you release his dick as soon as he’s done, but you move your now free hand to his free horn. “H-hey! Not so rough-“ He yelped upon feeling you claw at both his horns.

He’s whining and trying to get loose enough to give you a kiss, but you hold him down. “They are dense, so I cant cause much damage to them,” You pause getting an admittedly dumb idea. “Actually…if I grind on them, can you still get off to that?”

Satan’s face is deep scarlet but he’s grinning ear to ear. “F-fuck yes,” He pants out. “That sound a-amazing but for now, I need a breather Solomon-“ You rake your nails down both his horns, earning a shocked yelp. To your surprise, he cums yet again, though this time you admittedly start to feel better.

“I can feel the energy. I want more, Satan.” He lets out an exhausted whine, trying to push you away half heartedly. “Or maybe…I should go to your underlings for more.” You pretext to think it over and look him over. “Yeah, you look like you have no energy left, maybe I should get S-“

Right as you let go of him, he pulls you back, growling. “Please, I have plenty more energy to give.” He purrs out, licking the side of your face “and I’ll actually call you by your name.”

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in hell is bad? #nsft #overstim #dom reader #sub satan #sub whb Satan #sub whb #sub what in hell is bad #horn play #horn kink

[eydi-andrius]

Clear Lilac Eyes (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

summary: Aemond had bowed and prayed, something he had never done before no matter how hard his life had been.

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cw/tw: fluff, a bit of angst and hurt, aemond is a good husband, a dad and a king, childbirth, blood, implied war, patriarchy, threats, mentions of violence, threats and tags are not exhausted. Let me know if I miss anything

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a/n: Wrote this as an alternate ending for Don't Get Sad, Get Even but I thought it was too positive so I wrote it as a standalone.

Also, I posted this as a celebration as my blog turned THREE (3) today! YAY! 🎉🥳 Mannnnn, I used to be a lurker on this app then I started craving for my whatifs then wrote them. To celebrate, I will post for all the characters I have written so far and it includes this one. And maybe I have something in store for the others. 👀 A much awaited comeback hehehehehe if you have any request, you may send me an ask! 🥰 I may write them. 👀 Anyway, without further ado, ENJOY!

Likes and reblogs are welcome!

💚

There was an air of uneasiness that chokes out the life of those who breathe it in. The flicker of fire from the torches and the quiet of the hallways made an eerie atmosphere in the Red Keep. 

The shadows, the footfalls and the swish of clothings intensifies the feeling of distress in every mortal present at the birth of the King's child. 

This was an important event for the realm as this child may become the first heir to this new era of dragons. 

All the dragon-blood and silver-haired were almost wiped during the dance of dragons which happened for only a year.

Except for one. 

With his wit and strategy, Aemond Targaryen was able to win the war and was crowned king.

He was vicious and no one could deny him of his throne. Once the swords were down and the white flags were raised, all heads bowed to him.

However, right now, the King's head was bowed to only one, the Mother. The Goddess of Birth. 

While the realm was weary for his heir, he was scared to lose the love of his life.  

She had always expressed her fear of giving birth. When they were young, she had said to him that if she had a choice, she would rather not give birth. During that time, he thought it was silly. No one can run from their purpose. Especially her, whose sole purpose was to continue her family's lineage. She was a noble and a girl. There was no way for her to continue life without giving birth. 

Another blood curdling scream broke from her inside the room. It was loud. Terrifyingly loud. His gut twisted in fear. He had promised her not to enter the chambers while she gives birth but something was egging him on to force his way inside and to stay by her side. 

The room was filled with the familiar sweet metallic scent of blood. He had grown accustomed to it on the battlefield and never once the sight repulsed him. However, the white sheets and the white clothes worn by the maester and midwives were all covered in blood. Her blood. There was too much blood around her. The sickening feeling swirling inside of him tore new fear as he rushed forward and watched her delicate face, pale and deathly. Her lips dry and her hands cold to the tips. 

"My Lady wife, look at me, my dear. I beg of you " He watched her closely as her eyes fluttered softly at the sound of his voice. She looked at him and tried her best to give a smile but the look of it made him regret forcing her to go through the pain of giving birth. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him before it closed with a deep sigh. He squeezed her cold hands with worry - he prayed that the Mother will show his wife mercy, as she did to all the mothers who had gone through similar pain.

A tiny scream of life caught his attention. He looked behind him and there it was, his child. He never saw that she had finally given birth and was blinded with worry as he rushed in. His small bundle of joy was wrapped in the familiar green and gold linen his mother used for him when he was born. His pride and joy finally came and his heart was filled with unfamiliar warmth. He had never felt like this before.

Without removing his hand that held his wife, he asked the maester to help him place his little dragon on his free arm. The silver protruding hairs on his head had proven he was his child. He looks so small, so full of life as it cries and he shushes him. He had never felt more at ease as he was surrounded with his family. The family he chooses and who chooses him. His love for them runs deeply and he could never express how grateful he was for them.

"It is a girl." The sound of the maester's voice brought him back to where he was sitting and he looked at him. The maester's face did not hide his disappointment but he will forgive him for now.

A girl? 

A smile broke through him and he apologized inside his head to his daughter as he called her wrong. With a gesture of love, he placed his nose on top of hers and his heart was full as he heard her stop crying and coo at him.

He was overfilled with happiness. It feels like nothing could go wrong. 

However, his joy was short-lived when he felt his wife's hand loosen its grip to his. He had now realized her palm was colder, almost like ice. His head whipped in her direction and he saw the familiar feeling of impending death. 

No. Please. Not her either.

The wrong feeling in his gut came back again and he ordered the maester to help his wife. They rushed forward and he stepped back as he cradled the child, who was now peacefully sleeping on his arm. She must have been tired as she forced her way out to this world. She was so innocent and pure that she did not realize the terror that was eating away at his father's core.

He had watched them closely as they tried their best to bring his lady wife back to life. She looks so small, and fragile. He was afraid that they would break her as they moved back and forth to revive her.

The wet nurse of his child had asked and begged him to go out but he refused to do so and did not leave the room until the maester had told him that his wife was safe from harm. No one could tell when she would wake up but he was relieved that she could recover now.

At last, he had entrusted his child to her caretaker and asked the others to leave them be. Him alone with his wife. He waited for the sound of the door closing, before he broke down. With shaking limbs and eyes blurry with tears, he cried and kissed her hand.

He apologized for what he had put her through. He apologized for what she had to witness. 

He apologized for exposing her to violence. 

He apologized and apologized until there wasn't anything he could say to her. 

If the life of his wife would be the retribution for his sins then he would never forgive himself. 

That night, on his knees, he prayed and prayed for her to get better until there were no words he could utter to the Mother.

💚

Three days had passed and she was still asleep. He had smiled at her sleeping form as he recalled his interaction he had with his daughter. She was fussy and loud, just like her mother. He knew she would grow up with her mother's tenacity and boldness. 

Ignoring her pale face and thin body, he bit the inside of his cheek and continued his story. This was worse than war. Sitting beside her and watching as she fights for her life. Waiting and not being able to help her. He hoped that his stories would make her feel strong. 

He never liked the idea of her missing the growth of their child. He knew her better and this will make her sad. She had expressed that she had always wished for her mother to see her grow when she was young but she died too early for her to even remember her face, which people had claimed that they looked quite a lot like each others'.

He could never deny that there is no moment that he never missed her. Every inch and corner of Red Keep reminds him of her. Half of his life was him being with her. He wanted each and every waking moment of his was to be with her.

Swallowing his selfishness and pride, again, he prayed for her to get well and wake up soon. He bargained to all of the Gods that he will do anything and pay for it in his power to make it come true. 

💚

The council room was obnoxiously loud. He watched them quietly like a hunter, staring down its prey.

If he had the choice, he would be with his daughter and wife. But alas, he had to create a strong foundation for this new nation for his lovely daughter. He had to muster all the patience he had to stay still and listen to them. 

After the discussion about the trade and economy, suddenly, all the old men present looked at him warily. Even without them uttering a word, he knew what they would tell him. 

A searing hot anger rises through him but he feels calm. Calm enough to not hesitate to stab and kill with ease, just like what he did during the war. Or maybe he could ask Vhagar to bite them off in half or burn them alive. 

"Congratulations on having a girl, your grace. How was she?" He forgot that man's name but he believed the one who first opened his mouth was a Baratheon. 

"My girl was doing well." He replied curt and short. 

He saw how some of the men gulped in nervousness at the sound of his voice. He intended for them to feel the venom and challenge them to continue so he can cut their tongue. They looked nervous and fear was all over their features. Only Larys and Cregan, looked somewhat calm and remained quiet. 

"We're happy to h-hear that." The Baratheon continued with eyes wandering around his allies, like a helpless sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Aemond moved back and leaned on his chair, he wanted to see them all on a better view. He lay his head to his hand as he stared them down.

The silence was loud as everyone stayed seated and waited for each other. No one dares to. They were afraid. Aemond, the King, was ruthless. They knew bloodshed would be inevitable if they opened their mouths to speak about the dying Queen and the King having no heir after she gave birth to a daughter. 

Each one prefers their head intact, except for one. Or maybe the wise old folk of the North had better places to be and so he started the conversation with a tired sigh. 

"I thought you have something to say about the Queen, boy." He looked at the young Baratheon who was seated across him with emotionless eyes. 

The Baratheon stared at Cregan and the air shifted. The old wolf calling his name had given him confidence to open his mouth and talk about the real reason why this council meeting was held in the first place.

"Your grace, as much as we all pray for the Queen to get better. Please understand that we talk about this with the clearest intention in mind. After what happened to the Queen and the uncertainty of her health, we believed that it would be better to take another wife…..for the sake of our budding kingdom. In that way, we could secure an heir." He spoke with an air of superiority. As if he truly knew what he was talking about. 

Aemond stared at the man. He doesn't know how long it was but he just looked at him. The silence was uncomfortable and some of the gentlemen in front of him looked nervous as they waited for him to speak. 

"Y-your grace?" After some time, the Baratheon spoke again. 

He breathed in and finally, with an intense stare at the fool in front of him, he spoke with a neutral chilling tone.

"Did you know how the war started in the first place, boy?" He tipped his head and waited for an answer. 

Not knowing what to reply, the Baratheon boy blinked and looked around for help. But when no one could give him an answer he replied, confused. 

"Your grace?" 

"When my beloved lady wife was almost dying from childbirth, I suddenly remembered how and why we were all here. Why thousands of lives were lost. Why did dragons almost die and were wiped out?" He said with a menacing smirk. 

"You see, it started on this very council. Who were greedy for power to have the dragon blood on their lineage. To have their blood on the throne. And a foolish king who wore his heart on his sleeves. Those greedy old men pretended to truly care for him by using the memory of his wife and in the end feasted on his heart, voraciously. "He was way too lenient for his own good and once he realized he was being used, it was too late to change anything." My mother once told me. 

And I — I always saw my father as someone who swims along the current because he trusts way too easily, not knowing that there were sharp rocks waiting for him at the end. Even if I knew he wouldn't give me the love of a father as he should, I respect him for being the king. I believed he did his best to be a good one and a fair father to us. It doesn't mean it was enough though." 

Aemond stared from afar as he recalled how he envied his sister. How she got all the love they deserved to have too. It was never their fault to be treated that way and so he blamed all of it on her. But after the war and during the time his wife had suffered the similar fate of the former Queen, he realized how lonely his father might have felt. He realized how his sister might have suffered from being a girl. It was a strong slap on his face as he sat in the middle of this council and watched how these men didn't care about what he had to endure and how the life of his wife was the only reason why he was keeping sane. They will never understand, never. 

"Your grace, w-we cannot understand-" 

"Of course you wouldn't. None of you would." He cut him off before he could continue to rebuke him. 

"If the Queen dies right after this meeting, those who had agreed to have me married for another one would be beheaded for treason. If she did not survive even though her body has been doing well for days, I will treat her death as intentional from all of you. Speak again of her that way, head will roll, and blood will soak the iron throne. The only reason why you do not have a mad King, who craves death, was because of her." 

He stood up and did not care with the way the men yelled in unison of their protest against what he said. The only ones who stayed seated were Larys and Cregan, who both shook their heads. He did not care if they agreed with him. His wife will not die and he will protect her even if it means he has to be a Mad King. 

💚

He stayed seated beside her, just like what he has been doing these days. 

He chooses to be with her at night. He cannot stand to sleep in their room without her. It feels empty and cold. 

The barren room, even though filled with gold and riches, feels like another room in a gloomy castle. 

Each night, he stayed with her. Talk to her until he falls asleep on her side. He will either hold her hand or weave his hand through her hair, to soothe her. Sometimes, he even sings to her in High Valyrian, hoping that she will hear him and finally open her eyes. She always tells him she loves his voice when he speaks his native tongue. 

He waited and waited but it seems like today was like any other night. She needed a whole day of sleep to recuperate. He slowly closed his eyes after he kissed her goodnight. And prayed again that tomorrow, is the day she will smile at him again. 

A caress…

He cannot help but smile at the soft feathery caress on his face. It reminds him so much of how she wakes him up in the morning. What a beautiful dream..

A dream…

He frowned when he realized it was just a dream. She was still asleep and sick. And with his brows knit together, he relinquished the soft touch of fingers on his face. It feels familiar and welcoming. 

Just a bit more, he wanted to feel that she's with him. 

He was slowly going back to sleep, after what happened today, he seemed tired than usual, and it did not take long as the sleep tugged him back again when a tap jolted him awake. 

Even though the war ended a long time ago, his senses were still heightened and he was glad he wasn't wearing his sword or so he probably would have killed whoever forcefully woke him up. 

A smile….

He stared, mouth agape, when he saw you giving him a tired smile. He blinked and then, he panicked as he rushed forward at you, careful not to hurt you with his weight.

"My love.." He said with so much worry in his voice. He was feeling the tears threatening to come out of his eyes as he gazed at her pale face and dry lips. He doesn't even know how he will touch her. A moment of hesitation, his hands stopped midair as he panics that he might break her. What if he hurt her unintentionally and she fell asleep again?

He watched her as she tried to move her mouth but failed. She swallowed and tried again. This time he went to where the water and cup was placed and he helped her up to drink. She was thirsty and her mouth is probably dry from being asleep for a long time. Aemond calm yourself! She needed you more than now.

Once done, he carefully assisted her to lean on the headboard and she sighed with relief. 

He was just looking at her. And she was looking back at him. It took a while, the staring, until his face contorted with relief and then, he cried. He was shaking as he held her hand. She felt her fragile hands weave through his hair as she shushed him. He knew she was smiling. Glad to be back on his arms. 

He never felt so relieved and so thankful. 

All his life the people, his loved ones and even the gods did not like him. 

No matter how much he tried his best. No matter how much he was better he will never be chosen for he was only a second son. He was there as a safety but never the one.

But you choose him. And never did your love wavered. 

He never felt so hopeless when you were in pain and bedridden. 

He never felt so useless despite doing his best to be the strongest for his family. 

It was the first time he felt so inadequate and weak. That he gave all of his strength to kneel and pray for you whenever he could. He begged and promised that he would do anything in his power just so he could have you back. 

And now, crying in your middle like a child, as you held him as tight as he did, he prayed for gratefulness. 

💚

A week after you woke up, you are still not strong enough to walk outside. 

You relinquished the sun on your window and watched as Aemond carried and sways your daughter. 

You have a feeling that the reason why he was able to be in your room, as much as he could, was because he threatened the nobles every time they tried to stop him. You tried to talk to him once, compromising that he doesn't have to be with you, almost the whole day, but he shrugged and rolled his eyes, stating that he would rather be with his wife than be surrounded by men. 

Aemond can be stubborn but he never runs from his obligations so this was truly new for you. 

You giggled as you watched your lord husband's eyes widen from surprise. He was teasing your daughter by placing his finger in her small palm, when she closed and squeezed him tight, never letting go. His eyes softened when she cooed at him. 

He looks so different from when they call him the one-eyed prince for being vicious and fearsome. You were truly loved by the gods for witnessing this interaction and being one of the centers of his affection. 

"I will make her my heir." He said with a plain voice, as if he was asking you how you were. 

"My love?" You frowned, confused. You have witnessed Rhaenyra being crowned heir and how the war started from there. What is going on?

"I will change the law to make the eldest an heir. No matter what gender they may be, they will be given the same education and treatment, fit as the next ruler. If the nobles disagree, not that I care about them, I will also add that a female heir and noble will always have a noble child. Compared to a prince, a boy, the one she would carry will have noble blood in their veins. I will use my life, my reign to establish this. My daughter will be heir and no man, no noble, will be able to take that from her." The initial worry and confusion you felt from earlier vanished, as you watched him share his plan with the softest eyes. The setting sun at the window, creating a soft silhouette of him carrying his daughter. He loves her more than the throne. Something you have never witnessed before. 

It warms your heart and you never thought you would fall deeper in love with him this much in this lifetime. You will forever be happy that he chose you. 

"My love…..you always prove to me why I choose you every single waking moment of my life." Without thinking you opened your mouth and spoke the words that always lingered in your end. 

Surprised, he stared at you and then, he smiled in awe. You don't even need him to speak for you to know that his eyes and soften feature was him telling you that he loves you. 

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #prince aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond fic #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #aemond x reader #aemond fluff #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #eydi andrius #fic: clear lilac eyes

[luvyeni]

jeongin request!

hanging out with jeongin and the rest of the boys at the dorms. the boys start to baby him to embarrass him in front of you. you start to tease too only for him to drag you to his room and rearrange your guts, making you loud enough for the members to hear. yup, thats it lol.

LOUDER; YANG JEONGIN

pairings. meandom!jeongin x fem!reader

wc. 992

warnings. choking, degradation, facefucking, unprotected sex, squirting.

hug me was playing when i wrote this, i am in shambles i love this trope of pissing jeongin off and then having him fuck you stupid.

jeongin showing you what happens when you act out your place.

—

"jeongin be serious who wears the pants in your relationship?" jisung's question made everyone turn to the boy, his face turned red from the sudden question, they had been teasing him all day, pinching his cheeks, baby talking him, asking him inappropriate questions, like right now. "w..why do you need to know?"

"jisung don't be stupid, it's obviously ＿." seungmin said, making your eyebrows quirked up as you sat in your boyfriends lap, boy was he wrong, there was no dom bone in your body, jeongin made you ride him once and you almost cried.

"no way our innie could be a dom." jeongin was no longer embarrassed, but he slowly was growing angry, there's no way in hell you look like a dom to them. "she probably pegs him." this caused the room to erupt into laughter.

you didn't mean to laugh, you really didn't mean to it just came out, but they took it as a conformation. "she does!"

chan finally chimed in. "okay guys, that's enough, let's stop with the sex talk, what they do in the bedroom is none of your business, change the subject."

jeongin stared you down, you turned to him feeling his icy stare on your neck. "fucking room, now." he whispered in a low tone, venom laced in his voice, that made you get up and quickly make your way to his room...you just had to laugh at seungmin's stupid joke, now you're really gonna pay for it.

"you really think you can dom me?" jeongin had you pressed against his room door, his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing down lightly. "answer me." you shook your head. "n..no."

"then what the fuck was funny about seungmin's joke?" he let his hand hang loosely around your throat, letting you speak. "i didn't mean to." he scoffed. "of course you didn't." you knew he was being sarcastic.

"if you really think you can dom me, here's chance, tell me and i'll let you" you quickly shook your head at the horror of trying to do that. "no, i don't want to, please." he smirked.

"that's right, now get on your knees like the good slut i know you are." it was pathetic how fast you got down on the floor, but you didn't care, you wanted him. "should i take a picture, send it to them, show them how fast you get on your knees for me ." he unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to his ankles, pulling his cock out jerking himself off until he got hard.

"open your fucking mouth." he smacked his cock against your cheek, pushing himself through your slowly parting lips. "f..fuck, suck me off slut." you began to bob your head up and down his shaft, wrapping your hand around what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"if i wanted you to jerk me off, i would've told you, can't do anything right." he slapped your hands off his cock, grabbing your hair, signaling he was going fuck your face. "listen next time slut." he pushed your head down until your nose touched his pubic bone, holding it until down, doing this a few times before thrusting against your face, your gagging and throat tightening around his cock egging him on.

"fuck! that's right slut, take my cock down your throat." he groaned. "im gonna cum, shit." he held your head down one more time, while he painted the back of your throat white. "f..fuck." he slapped his tip against your lips. "swallow." you obeyed, licking your lips of any extra. "good girl." he picked you up, basically throwing you on to his bed.

"ass up." he stepped out of his pants, getting on the bed behind you. "look at this, soaked." he pulled your panties down. "don't even need to prep you, your dripping down your fucking leg, that's how wet your little pussy is." he slapped your ass, making you yelp.

"yup, that's how loud i want you to scream when im fucking my cock into your tiny pussy." he pressed his tip against your heat. "let them hear how much a slut you are for me." he fully pushed his cock inside you. "jeongin fuck!" you screamed, not matter how rough he was being, he always started off slow, so this was different. "too much!"

"fucking take it!" he pulled out, slamming back again, you let out another almost pornographic moan. "fucking louder, let them hear you." his hips snapped repeatedly against yours, as you just scream and moan his name. "that's right, scream for me love, let them hear how much of a dom you are." he hissed. "shit."

you were a mess, you knew they were just outside, but that didn't stop jeongin from being as loud as he could. "you're clenching my dick pretty hard, you're gonna make a mess on my cock aren't you baby." he hit a specific spot that had you seeing stars. "jeongin, i..i feel- do it, make a mess." he didn't slow down his thrust.

"fuck!" you let out a scream that probably would warrant a wellness check, as you came hard. "oh fuck." he still didn't slow his thrust down, it wasn't until he was about to cum that his thrust slowed down. "take my cum." he painted your walls, his stomach pressed against your back as he kissed your shoulders softly. "shit."

"you fucking squirted."

"i didn't mean to go so rough." he helped you clean up. "i just was upset that they kept teasing, i should've taken it out on you." he rubbed your hip. "innie." you hushed him with a kiss. "i'm, besides it was hot." he smirked. "really, then should we go again?" he was about to pull you into another kiss when someone banged on the door.

"absolutely fucking not, if you're gonna go at it like fucking wild animals, go to her house, instead of traumatizing the entire dorm."

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz imagines #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids imagines #jeongin x reader #jeongin hard hours #jeongin hard thoughts #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut

[mercurycft]

𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 — 𝐊𝐌

## katie mccabe x team mate reader!!

hey pooookies! i hope you have all been well - are we all so surprised at how active i’ve been?! are we also all ripping our hair out in preparation for the final on sunday — I wonder how inspector gadget is gonna fuck us over this week :))). anyways! i tried something new with this one! i hope you enjoy! love always - RG x

3.6k words

contains : !! social / drunk smoker r !! jealousy, hidden feelings, tipsy one night stand, best friend x best friend, top!katie & bottom!reader, praise, dirty talk, thigh riding, semi-public (bathroom cubicle/stall), fingering r!receiving, finger sucking.

CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT AND LANGUAGE

the ninety-second minute.

two minutes into the four of added time. by this point, your legs are burning. the sound of the crowd ringing through your ears and rattling around your brain. you tried to stay focused, overly aware of the time ticking away. your season debut, a sold out emirates and you were finally off the bench and on the grass at the start of the second half. the first half was a mess, truth be told. the team had conceded a goal twelve minutes in and didn't score the equaliser until minute thirty-seven. it felt anticlimactic, the players and fans reeking of disappointment at the display in front of them. how the team had been playing and how they were playing seemed like a humorous juxtaposition.

the blur of red and white fell into the background as you felt the ball at your feet, walti hitting the ball perfectly through a gap in the opposition and picking you out. this startled you out of your train of thought and your feet moved faster than your brain could compute as you started running.

you breezed up the field, weaving through the opposing players with the ball still on your feet. beth was ahead of you to the right of the box, screaming your name above the noise. you could hear a few others behind you too, leah calling out behind you to pass it across the box to beth. you looked up, eyes flicking from the ball to the scenes around you in second intervals. you were covered, their defence closing in on you as you crept closer and closer to the goal. your eyes found the keeper ahead of you, arms open and bouncing on her feet. you could feel the bodies around you closing in, you couldn't turn and now you couldn't place beth as she disappeared behind them.

ninety-three.

you tried to stall for just a second, still fighting through the wall with the ball below you. you looked around, eyes searching for a red. you had no choice, you took a deep breath. a gap, just look for a gap you thought, scanning between the bodies. then you spotted it, a crack in their defence. there it is the voice in your head egged you on, then you ran again. arms raising to your side to give you the last kick of power you needed, body twisting as your foot retracted.

the stadium and people around you seemed to slow as soon as the inside of your foot made contact with the ball, eyes locked on it as it picked off the ground and began soaring towards the goal in front of you. it was up and over the keeper even as she jumped, launching herself up in an attempt to avert the ball outside of the posts. instead, it trickled above and over her fingertips, top right corner. back of the net.

you watched as it made contact with the net, rippling out as the crowd jumped to their feet. screaming and hollering a mix of your name and cheers, at the sight and sound your knees buckled. hand's breaking your fall as your head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut as you cried out a sound of relief and elation. the screams around you grew as your teammates flew towards you, arms wrapped around you tightly as they screamed and congratulated you. lifting you off the ground and into the middle of the group, patting your head and singing along with the crowd as they chanted for you. katie was the first to speak directly to you, hands on either side of your head as she raised her voice above the racket from the crowd. “there’s my star girl!” she screamed, smiling from ear to ear.

the whistle blows. the game ends.

you, along with the other girls take your victory lap. soaking in the love from the fans and taking a few minutes to enjoy the moment alongside each other. when the celebrations had ceased, pictures had been taken and the fans had slowly began to make their way out of their seats and towards the exits - you and the girls retreated back through the tunnel and towards the changing room.

once inside, the celebrations continue in the form of dancing and singing. the group all swaying and holding one another whilst ‘the angel’ blares through a speaker in the corner of the room. voices echo of the walls as you butcher it, laughing at the sight surrounding you. beside you stood beth, arm slung across your shoulder and hips knocking yours as she swayed to the beat of the song. she leant towards you, her mouth not too far from your ear as she whispered a small and teasing.

“well done, star girl..”

—————————

three hours later you stood outside of a local bar, a team favourite. a small, proper british, weather-spoons styled bar tucked away in a corner of north-london. there was a shelter above you, shielding you from peering eyes and people wandering by. you were standing with your head down, eyes glued to your phone and back pressed against the brick wall.

you typed vigorously, cracking a smile every few seconds as a new message popped up at the bottom of the screen.

y/n : i am NOT walking in alone

meado : just go in! we will be there in 2 minutes!

y/n : beth. i am not being the first one here!!

le : stop being a baby

km : can score in front of 50k but can’t be first in??

y/n : i actually beg you shut up

lia : we are around the corner!! are you out front?

y/n : yes, save me

before you could continue on your rampage, your attention was directed to the sound of an irish accent bellowing towards you. lifting your eyes off the screen in front of you, you were met with the source of the sound.

“are you ever quiet? or do you not possess the ability?” you teased, smiling as she engulfed you in her arms and pulled you towards her chest.

“nah, but ye’ know ye’ don’t mind,” she replied “do you not possess the ability to walk into a bar alone?” she added, emphasising her point with the tap of her finger against your shoulder, smirking when you rolled your eyes.

“shut up, mccabe.”

you and katie have been friends for years, and teammates for even longer. people often liked to comment on the pair of you, fans would speculate and ‘ship’ you together. sure, there was the odd flirty comment passed between you, or a single instagram post that painted you as a little closer than friends. but nothing ever came from it, and nothing was said. you got on like a house on fire, even though people were continuously confused about how you actually got on, considering how different your personalities are. katie was a loud and outgoing character, a joker. you, on the other hand preferred to slip into the background most times. but somehow, it worked. on the pitch, and away from the pitch.

katie ushered you inside, making small talk as the pair of you walked towards the back - sitting down into a booth beside each other and thanking the server as he scattered a number of drinks menus around the circular table.

over the next few minutes the rest of the girls started to filter in, saying hello’s and getting comfy around the table as conversations kicked up. as the seats started filling you felt katie shimmy off the seat and move somewhere away from the group. you sat beside leah, discussing a mutual and old friend you had recently bumped into. sharing a bout of laughter at resurfacing memories.

the drinks began to circulate and music started to flow through the room, everyone relaxing into the occasion when katie slipped back into the seat beside you. she placed two drinks down on the table, and then slid one in front of you - her hand tapping your thigh twice under the table as she did so. you smiled to yourself with a hand clasping around the glass and tapping twice with your finger nail, thanking her silently.

the other girls were used to this by now, beth and viv would call it a ‘secret language’. joking about how you spent so much time together you could communicate telepathically. the two taps could mean anything, a thank you, an okay, an ‘oh my god did you hear that?’. it was completely subjective to the situation, but either way you always understood each other.

another half hour ticked by, and the team still remained around the table. drinks in hand, all engaged in the same conversation but still managing to speak over one another. the room was stuffy, and your skin was crawling for a bit of fresh air.

you made it outside, the door closing behind you and blocking out the music. you took a deep breath, allowing the chill in the air to fill your lungs as you took a seat at one of the rickety tables. you placed your bag to rest on your legs, fingers sifting through your bag, then lifting to your lips followed by the click of a lighter.

you inhaled, eyes closing for a second then looking down at your phone - flicking through your social media. you stayed like this for a few moments, eyes locked on the screen until a voice made you jump. moving swiftly to tug your arm under the table, shielding the sight of your cigarette from view.

“that’ll kill ye’ you know..”

“jesus christ, katie you scared me!” you complained, moving your hand to rest on the table-top once more, unbothered by her presence or possible acknowledgment to your bad habit.

“don’t understand why ye’ do it, it ain’t even nice.” her accent seemed to get thicker once paired with the alcohol she had consumed, “don’t like watchin’ you do it..”

“don’t watch me then,” you quipped, smiling sarcastically as you raised it to your lips again.

“put it out, let’s go inside.”

“i’ll be in in a minute-”

“put it out.”

that’s new. you thought in regards to the way her words caused your stomach to churn, unable to fight your hand as you flicked the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with the sole of your shoe.

“happy now?”

“very.”

her eyes were trained on you, watching as you stood from your seat and made your way over to her. slipping a piece of gum between your lips.

“gonna stand there a check me out all night mccabe? or you gonna come inside..?”

—————————

you weren’t entirely sure how it had gotten to this point, but you were sat on the edge of your seat absolutely seething. eyebrows furrowed and teeth clenched beneath your pursed lips. eyes fixated on the scene unfolding in front of you.

beth could feel the tension in your body from beside you, placing a hand on your back and asking if you’re okay not entirely convinced when she received your answer through gritted teeth.

katie stood at the bar, leaning against a stool as she spoke to a woman. not just any woman, a beautiful blonde woman. who was laughing obnoxiously loud and dramatically at something katie had said, leant right in towards her ear with a hand on her shoulder.

you had watched this for long enough, the sight alone enough to cause a strike of anger and jealousy in the depths of your stomach. you rose to your feet, ignoring the way beth called your name lowly and under her breath but failed to restrain you. you walked towards the pair now stood far, far too close to each other. timing it perfectly as katie created space for you to slip into her side, tucking your arm around her waist.

pretending to be interested in something happening in the room you spoke sweetly “shall we get going babe? you’ve got to be up early.” before turning to finally meet katie’s eyes, she was shocked - gobsmacked even as you stood next to her putting on a performance. you flashed her a smile before you turned towards her company, “oh my! sorry i didn’t see you there, am i interrupting?”

she was up and gone before giving you a reply, scoffing and grunting towards katie as she left. you laughed to yourself, removing your hand and filling the now empty seat. katie, however, was less amused. muttering a “what the fuck was that?” with a scrunched up face.

“what was what?”

“thanks.” she spat, marching away from you. she crossed the room and you watched her walk into the bathroom - trailing shortly behind her, calling her name. when you made it into the bathroom it was quiet, as if it was empty. you advanced towards one of the stalls, pressing your fingertips to the door and pushing gently.

“katie?” no reply and the door opened to reveal an empty cubicle. “katie?” you said again, huffing slightly as you pushed the second one open.

this time, the door flew open and a hand grabbed your wrist - pulling you inside. before you had the chance to register what was happening your back was pressed up against the now closed door, with a body laid against your front.

you gasped at the contact, a familiar perfume flooding your senses before you eventually opened your eyes just to be met with a pair of blue ones you had seen so many times.

“i used to enjoy this silly little game of yours, you know. but now, i’m getting a little tired, love.” she whispered, still keeping you pinned with your arms by your side and legs shoulder width apart.

“i don’t know what you-”

“what i’m trying to say is, if you really wanted me that bad, you should’ve just said so.” she added, lifting her hand to tilt your head. her lips on the skin of your neck instantly, peppering kisses below your ear and down to where your collarbone sits. raising and falling cautiously with every deep breath you took.

you didn’t fight it, instead you sighed into her touch, body relaxing against hers. you could feel her smirk against your skin, teeth grazing the skin of your jaw. you wriggled one of your hands out of her grip, laying it across the back of her neck. palming it gently as you pulled her back, looking at her properly.

she scanned your face, watching as your head twitched in a tiny nod - never breaking eye contact with her once. her features softened, but her lips twisted into a cocky smirk. moving towards you and attaching your lips together.

you had kissed once before, in a stupid game of truth or dare about five years ago. it was small, a peck and lasted maybe three seconds.

this kiss, right now, was the polar opposite. lips moving against each other roughly, hands tugging at each other clothes and skin. the kiss was fast paced, and twisted with lust and want. it was erotic and urgent, as if you might disappear and the moment will be gone if you even dared to come up for air. your lips pressed together so hard you thought they might bruise.

your lips were on fire when she pulled away, trailing a path of hot kisses down the same path she took earlier. nipping and licking along your jaw and neck as you whimpered from above her, shifting your weight from your right to left foot and back again. unable to contain the heat spreading through you. it started in the pit of your stomach, angry and fierce at the hands of katie’s actions.

“katie..” you whispered, clawing at the clothes on her back. she didn’t reply, to focused on the task at hand. “katie.” you said again, this time it came out like a hiccup, breath hitching when she nipped at a particularly sensitive patch beneath your ear. “katie, please!”

“what, love?” she pulled away with a smirk. eyes deep and lips parted as she gasped for air.

“i need you,”

“i’m right here.”

her answer didn’t satisfy, laced with cockiness as she licked her lips. your leg lifted to bend hers and press between your legs, inhaling sharply when you felt the contact on your heat - tugging your lip between your teeth as the irish woman groaned and lifted a hand to sit at the side of your face, stroking her thumb along the skin as you grabbing and palmed at her leg to bring it closer.

“is that what you want, love?” you knew it was rhetorical, a question that didn’t need an answer. but still you nodded vigorously, rolling your hips against her thigh which now sat in the perfect position for relief. “you wanna got off on my thigh now hm?” she added, the words alone enough to send another rush of heat through your abdomen.

you couldn’t form words, already starting to rut against her thigh when her hands began to creep up your top, teasing over the fabric of your bra at the feeling of your fully hard nipples.

“go on, baby, get off on my thigh..” she encouraged, one hand sitting firmly on your hip to guide you and the other being used to lift your top further. taking one of your nipples between her fingers, watching as your teeth laid harshly into your bottom lip - eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“you like this, huh? getting yourself off, right here? being a good girl for me, aren’t ye’?” she whispered into your ear, teeth softly grazing against the skin of your ear lobe.

“want your fingers, katie,” you whimpered, the pressure through the layers of clothing not providing you with enough.

“hm, that’s not how we ask now is it?” she questioned, eyebrow cocked and hands stilling you on her thigh. “why don’t you ask properly n’ i’ll see what i can do..”

“please katie, i want your fingers..” you whined, body distraught at the loss of contact. katie let out a satisfied ‘hm’ at your words, pressing a quick kiss to your lips when her hands dropped to unbutton your jeans. she shoved them down till they sat around your mid-thigh, fingers ghosting over your clothed slit as she sighed.

“look at you, made such a mess. proper ruined these are..” she teased, adding pressure through the fabric before skilfully moving them to the side. allowing her fingers to slip through your folds, smirking against you when she felt how wet you were. “jesus, love. absolutely soaked.” you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks as she teased you, not fully committing to where you needed her most.

you groaned in frustration, head laying back against the cubicle door when she finally pressed the pads of her fingers onto the bundle of nerves, chuckling when she felt your body jolt forward and thighs tense at the feeling. “right there, baby?” she whispered, burying her head into your neck once more. you nodded, hips moving to grind against her fingers - swivelling in small circles and moaning out into the room.

through the laboured breaths you managed to croak out a meek and stuttered “please fuck me, need your fingers,” mouth agape and limbs on fire when you felt her move her fingers down to the source of your arousal. allowing one of her fingers to slip inside you, enough to feel you clench around her and whisper out a beg for more.

when she added a second, your head fell forward. attaching your lips together again, your moans slipping beyond her lips. your teeth grazed against the skin of her bottom lip now, in exchange to yours and she grunted out a low “behave.” when you pushed your luck.

you could feel the coil in the pit of your stomach bouncing around your organs and numbing your lower body when her fingertips pressed against your g-spot. knees buckling and eyes screwing shut, fingers gripping her bicep - leaving crescent shaped marks in the exposed skin beneath her sleeve.

“fuck, right there- oh my god.” you moaned, unable to hold them in any longer, your mind clouded by pleasure and entirely focused on chasing the high that was rapidly approaching.

“right there?” she punctuated her point by curling her fingers deeper, “ye’ gonna cum for me? show me how pretty ye’ look makin’ a mess of my fingers?” she knew just what to say to have you squirming and send your mind racing.

you felt you tighten around her fingers, grunting a “cum for me.” into the crook of your neck, not slowing or stilling her fingers until she heard you cry out. using her lips to muffle your cries as she rode it out, letting you catch your breath for a few seconds before removing them all together. bringing them up to your lips, which you accepted gracefully. hollowing out your cheeks, tongue flattening against them before finishing with a pop.

katie held you up the same way she had been until you were confident on your feet again, helping you to straighten your clothes and push your hair out of your face. you felt an awkward silence rush over you both, inhaling deeply. you were sure she could hear your inner monologue when she jokingly let a “well then, thats never happened before..” break through the silence, causing you both to laugh.

you pushed her hair away from her eyes, slipping your hands onto her cheeks and bringing her forward to connect your lips again. this time softly, more careful and loving. you both relaxed instantly, smiling as you pulled away.

it hadn’t happened before, no.

but would it be the last time, no.

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe smut #awfc x reader #alessia russo #beth mead #fanfition #arsenal wfc #awfc #light angst #lionesses #jen beattie #woso imagine #smut with feelings #woso #woso fanfic #woso one shot #wlw #awfc imagine #arsenal women #arsenal x reader #katie mccard #mccabe smut #england #lucy bronze smut #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #lia walti #vivianne miedema #y/n

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

⚠️𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘⚠️

🎀Show your age if you wanna interact or I block u🎀

✨𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲✨ (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐱𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Gojo likes to take pictures of you—videos too if he can. You could be lounging in his living room, sprawled on the couch, wearing nothing but his hoodie that sat snugly on your frame. Click! You could be in the kitchen, cooking a delicious dinner, the smells of which make passers-by lift their noses into the air and take deep whiffs. Click! You come out of the shower in a towel, click! You feed your cat, click! You brush your teeth, click! Gojo would even buy you pretty heels and dresses, jewellery and make-up, and take you to expensive restaurants and do fun activities – all so he could dress you up and take pictures of you. Click! Click! Click! Everything you did was carefully documented in his camera roll. Pictures he would proudly show off, even unprompted, just for an opportunity to make his peers turn green with envy. 

Of course, he had another secret folder. This also had pictures of you—but they were only for one pair of brilliant blue eyes. Photos he took of your body. Of his fat cock, stretching out your little hole. Your tear-streaked face – mascara running down your hollowed cheeks – as you struggled to fit him in your mouth. Drool and gloss on your lips in a rambunctious dance, dripping onto your plush chest. Videos of his long fingers, tweaking and playing with your red nipples. Of your glistening pussy. Of his hand laying claim to your stomach, simultaneously lifting his hoodie off your tummy. 

Every time he was away from you, either you on a mission or him, he would whip out his phone, open up the folder, and massage his aching balls while watching you. He would hear his voice in the background of his videos goading you, as he gripped your thick ass to pull it down on his length. 

“Th-a-a-a-at’s it. Fuck– there's my good girl. Hng, you're taking daddy’s cock so well, sweety.” 

Your soft high-pitched moans from his phone's speaker only served to turn him on further. He would pull his cock out of the waistband of his boxers, gently stroking it and imagining your hand in its place. With every thrust on the screen, he would thrust into the grip of his hand, watching how your ass jiggled in his mind’s eye. Every move was known to him, intimately. Hours of studying his film work had made him acquainted with your body as if it were his own. He knew exactly which whine meant Please, give me more or I’m going to cry, to the gasp that translated to Fuck, Daddy, don’t stop, I’m coming!

There were times when he would make you look at the camera, “Turn around f’ me baby. Lemme see your pretty little slut face” And your head would turn to look at him, at his phone, as he continued to thrust into you from behind. Sometimes you would take his phone in your own hands, leaning it against a pillow to get a perfect shot of you. Your widened glassy doe-eyes, captured on the screen, tits bouncing in time with your lover's movements. You’d speak to him too, egging him on.

“More, Daddy! Please, Daddy! Yeah, stretch me out and fuck me—just like that!” Or you’d say something like, “God, please, you’re so big, it’s too much!”

Any time he heard you, coupled with the visual of your wet eyes and open mouth, it would make Gojo cum. Just a few jerks and he would nut into his hand, the sticky white fluid running down his fingers. 

His favourite video, however, starts off with him watching you from behind the camera. You’re in a lace lingerie set he bought for you, blue and white – matching his eyes and hair. You wore a dainty silver choker around your neck with a tiny bell that made a tinkling sound each time you moved – a collar almost.  Sitting on his bed, propped up by pillows, you had one hand pawing at your breast, while the other played with your hair. Your legs were spread apart giving him a delicious view of the growing wet patch on your panties. Gojo felt himself licking his lips each time he saw it. 

You would move your hand from your hair to your thighs, rubbing against the flesh softly, almost as if you were enticing him to come take a bite. And it would work. Gojo would set up his camera to record as he climbed into the bed with you, settling his head between your thick thighs. His mouth immediately latched onto you and sucked. 

Gojo in the future would fuck his pillows furiously, desperate to try and recreate the feeling of you under him but it wouldn’t work. In a way, he would be almost envious of himself. Of his proximity to you. The video Gojo continued, lapping at the wet patch on your panties. His hand reached up to grab at your breast and massage it. You let out a loud sigh, your hand finding purchase in his hair and you raked your fingernails against his sensitive scalp, to which Gojo would respond with a guttural growl. “Woman! Do you want me to cum while my pants are still on?” 

His kitten licks soon turned into a flat widened tongue, flush against your pussy, fingers tugging the panties to the side before he lost control and ripped them into two to get a better taste. You cried out at the loss of such a pretty lingerie set and were shut up by two long fingers being shoved into your mouth. It wouldn’t take long for you to cum on Gojo’s tongue. He knew his way around your body and sucked and licked on your clit and folds like a man possessed. The taste of you was intoxicating and Gojo, watching you on the screen couldn’t help but lick his lips, missing your flavour. 

You orgasmed with a squirt, gushing into Gojo’s mouth, grasping at his hair and crying his name like a prayer. Gojo didn’t realise till you yanked on his hair from the overstimulation crying, “Stop Gojo, stop please, no more – yellow!” He lifted himself off you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His pupils were blown out and he looked almost wolf-like as he reached up to kiss you. His hips rutted into your tummy, the soft fat cushioning his hard thrusts. He was obsessed. 

He tugged at the bra pulling your heavy breasts into his mouth one by one. You helped pull off his boxers to let him feel your skin against his. His cock was hot. The weeping tip dripped pre-come onto your belly and it ran into your folds in a cold contrast. His lips never once left your skin. 

Gojo watching you on the screen later, would lose composure. Watching his cock sheath into you, knowing exactly how you felt around him would be too much. He would come for a second time that evening. Watching him, fuck you. You: falling apart on his cock; begging for him to cum in you; desperation and exertion in your voices as he finally ejaculated in you; sucking and nipping at your breasts. His hands pinned yours down and you both rode out the high repeating each other's names in unholy worship. 

He collapsed into your arms and you kissed him; his head, then nose, then lips. He pulled you into his embrace and told you how good you were for him. 

Future Gojo would come down from his high alone, and text you. The perfect shot of his hand, covered in his come. His soft cock, out of focus in the background. 

You would open it and add it immediately to your own hidden folder. Gojo isn’t the only freak in this relationship…

A/N: Yeah so Hidden Inventory has a different meaning here. That's all I guess. I secretly like gojo also ok bye.

Hearts and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will get you KISSIE.

#anonimusunnoan #anonimuswritings #jjk #fanfiction #fanfic #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #picture taking #satorugojo #jjk satoru #jjk x reader fluff

[dilemmaontwolegs]

ANGRY SEX WITH CHARLES PLEASE IM B(p)EGGING

Another Lie || CL16

Warnings: Angst, smut, drug and alcohol use, unhealthy relationship WC: 2.2k

F1 Masterlist || Alessandro for those who haven't seen || Part Two

The club in the casino was at its busiest hour but you no longer saw all the people beneath the strobe lights or even heard the quick beats of the bass that could have been your heartbeat. Your focus was on the single tattoo you had spotted on the man leaving the VIP area where you were partying the night away.

How many people had a Ferrari-red Guido tattooed on their bicep?

You scanned the crowd again and spotted the man making his way to the exit. There was no doubt with his dark hair and short, shaped beard that it was Charles’ mechanic, Alessandro. You could only hope he didn’t recognise you from all the time you had spent in their garage.

You weren’t going to let thoughts of the team, and particularly their driver, ruin your night as you shaped another line of powder with your credit card and let it clear your mind.

You felt his entrance like an earthquake, invisible and dangerous. The moment he stepped into the nightclub a tremor rolled through the crowd and your eyes found the epicentre making his way to the VIP area.

You swallowed another shot as his shape came into focus and you licked the drop of alcohol on your lips as you found your voice. You were conscious of the coke coursing through your body and forced yourself to speak slowly as you tried to hide the evidence. “You’re meant to be in Italy.”

“Race was cancelled, don’t you read the news?” he bit back sharply, making you roll your eyes.

“If you’re here to be an asshole you can just fuck off.”

He bent down, his hand gripping the back of your chair as he blocked out the crowd behind him. With his face mere inches away from yours you were struck by the way his eyes caught the laser lights that danced around the room, and the scent of his cologne on his neck.

“What the fuck?” His hand caught your chin and tipped your head back so you were staring directly at the lights on the ceiling and he growled in the back of his throat. “Again?”

“You’re meant to be in Italy,” you reiterated.

“Then who were you planning to take care of you, huh?” he shoved your head away before standing at his full height and snapping his fingers. “We’re going.”

“I’m not yours anymore, Charles, you can’t order me around.”

His perfect white teeth glinted with his dark smile and he tugged you to your feet so quickly that you crashed into his chest where he held you tightly. “You’ll always be mine, even when you��re not.”

He grabbed your clutch from the table and picked up your credit card that was beside it, wiping off the white powder that cling to the edge. “You promised me no more.”

“And you promised me forever. Guess we both lied.”

The car ride was slow as Charles navigated the narrow streets of Monaco on a busy Saturday night. You didn’t want to go slow.

The purr of the engine reminded you of the long drives he would take you on along the coast, freeing the Pista from her urban cage and screaming down the winding highways.

“I don’t want to go home.”

Charles looked away from the road to see you staring longingly at the mountains beyond the city. “Where do you want to go?”

Your forehead rested on the cold glass and you moaned quietly at the refreshing touch on your burning skin. “Anywhere but there.”

Charles reached over and grazed his knuckles over your cheek to feel the heat radiating from them and sighed. Turning sharply, he gave into your request and drove away from your apartment, instead taking you to his new one - the one he had purchased after moving out.

There had been too many nights like this, where he came and saved you from yourself, and every time he said it was the last time. 

Every time it ended the same.

It started with an arm around your waist, steadying you as you climbed the stairs in towering heels. It started with his hand on your nape and his fingers digging into your skin, his cold palm chasing away the heat flashes that came with your high. It started with his voice, deep and melodic as he suggested changing into something more comfortable. 

It would end in his bed. It would end with your nails marking his skin and his teeth marking yours. It would end with sweaty limbs tangled between messy sheets as he replaced your high with another.

His touch wouldn’t be gentle like it had been back when you were in love, and his lips wouldn’t tease your skin with sweet kisses and whispered praises. No, this was weeks of ignoring the bond you still shared and the resentment that came with the inability to move on all coming to an explosive head.

“Is this what you do when I’m away? This dress barely covers your ass,” he growled as he stood behind you in the mirror and drew the zip down your back, letting the material slide down your body to pool on his bedroom floor. His fingers traced the thin strip of lace over your hip before following the design covering your pussy and he pushed it aside to feel how wet your body was for him. “Anyone could have seen what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours.” You squirmed as your needy tone betrayed your words and you felt his smirk on your shoulder as those green eyes pierced yours in the reflection. 

He didn’t need to correct you, he needed to own you. 

His teeth bit into your shoulder as he buried two fingers into your cunt and your cry softened to a moan as he licked the mark he left.

“Do I need to remind you again?” he taunted as he curled his fingers inside you to find the spot that left stars dancing around your vision. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snapped open at the order and you remembered why you fell so easily back into this toxic routine. Only he could challenge you and push you the way he did, only he could control you with a few short words. But only you could defy him.

His jaw ticked as you met his eyes and he saw you weren’t ready to back down, the drugs and alcohol in your system feeding your confidence. “Either fuck me or I’ll find someone else.”

Your legs almost buckled as he slapped his palm over your pussy and it was only his arm curled around your waist that kept you upright. “There is no one else for you. It’s just me. Comprendre?”

“You’re never here,” you said as you tipped your head back on his shoulder and looked up at him under your lashes. “And I get so lonely.”

His body disappeared as he stepped back and then you were on your back on his bed with the chandelier glittering above, a laugh bubbling from your lips as he pinned you beneath him. 

“What was that, bella?” He waited impatiently for you to answer, the French leaking into his words as much as the anger in his eyes. 

You rolled your hips against his thigh that kept your legs spread and moaned at the friction his jeans made with your lace panties. “Alessandro looked pretty hot tonight.”

You were playing with fire, but god did you love the burn. 

“Don’t you dare,” he growled as his thigh pressed forward and he grabbed your hands, pinning them to the pillows above your head so there was nothing to stop him from biting your ear lobe before promising, “I’m going to fuck you so stupid, you won’t even remember his name.”

Your head tipped back with defiance so you could see the potent mix of anger and desire dancing in his eyes. “Alessandro…”

Charles caught your chin in his hand and licked his lips as he shook his head. “Brat.” The word should have held venom but it was too soft and then he stole the air from your lungs with a demanding kiss before you could overthink it further. In fact, all thoughts were completely erased from you except for the one where you needed to feel more of his skin on you.

He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second so you could pull his shirt over his head before the harsh press of his lips were back against yours and his tongue forced your mouth to open wider for him. This was how it was with him in control and you taking everything he had to give. He was right, you did belong to him.

“Charles, please, fuck me,” you begged shamelessly as need for him washed away sense of reason.

A huff of irritation puffed from your lips as he stood up but when you saw it was to rid himself of his jeans you grinned in triumph. 

He smirked at the sight and crawled slowly, teasingly up your body with that wicked gleam in his eyes. “You want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.” In a second you were on your stomach as he flipped you over before pulling your hips up off the bed. “This is what you want, right?”

He gripped the lace panties with two hands and tore them off your body. Your back arched at the sudden rush of cool air to your cunt and he chuckled at your eagerness. 

“Why should I fuck you?” he asked as he fisted his cock and teased your slick entrance before pushing just the tip inside. You could do nothing as he held your hips positioned with his strong hands, your cunt desperately needing the rest of him to be buried deep inside. “Give me one good reason, bella.”

There was no mistaking the bite to his words now, the anger lacing each syllable as his fingers left their imprints on your skin. You knew what he wanted to hear, those magic words that would make him snap his hips forward with a possessive growl. 

“Because I’m yours,” you whispered to the sheets before you buried your face in them with a cry as he gave you all that you asked for and more. 

Your fingers searched blindly for anything to hold before he released your hips and laced his fingers over yours. “Mine,” he breathed down your neck as his body pressed you deeper into the soft sheets and the tension left your body as you felt safe under the weight. 

Your head was dizzy from the bacchanal night and you could hardly draw enough air into your lungs as a fine tremor began to spread across your body. The deep groan in your ear had your core clenching and when he licked the tender skin where he had bit you it was enough to tip you over the edge and into the spiralling blissfulness of release. 

“Yours,” you panted through the waves of pleasure that reached a new height when he marked you once more.

You could have left your body and floated right out of the room with the high you felt. But it all came crashing down when he pulled out and the warmth of his seed hit your lower back instead of filling you.

Charles released a shuddering breath as he sat back on his heels and smirked at the mess he made, the anger that usually faded after he came still lingered in his eyes. “Now you look like a whore.”

“Fuck you, Charles.” You rolled over and enjoyed the annoyed grimace on his face as you wiped his come on his sheets before getting up and swiping your dress from the floor.

“Where are you going? It’s 3am.”

“Anywhere you aren’t,” you muttered as you found what shreds remained of your panties and dropped the useless pieces of material back to the ground.

“Just come back to bed, I’ll take you home in the morning.”

You slipped your feet into your heels and grabbed your belongings as you made your way through his apartment. “No, this was a mistake. It’s always a fucking mistake, but this is the last time.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” he called out from the bathroom as he turned on the shower. “Stop being dramatic and let me clean you up.”

You heard the sounds of the water change and knew Charles had stepped under the rainfall shower head. You could already picture him combing his hair back with his fingers as he lathered up the personalised shampoo that was made just for him, the water running over his chest, and knew if you stepped foot in that bathroom there was only one way it ended.

“One last time,” you muttered under your breath as you kicked your heels off and placed your clutch with his car keys on the table next to the door. You slipped your dress off at the door to the bathroom and saw Charles’ silhouette opaque behind the steamed glass wall. “One last time,” you silently promised yourself before stepping in.

But it was another lie.

Click here for part two.

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #charles leclerc smut

[talesofely]

— Desired Reality - Uno.

A Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader Series

Summary : Six people who claimed to be from another universe arrived at the Avengers Tower out of nowhere. The fact that the group of people—NOVA—are essentially Avengers clones only serves to further complicate matters. The only unmistakable distinction between them is that they are of opposing sexes. How will things play out for the two groups of superhumans?

Word count : 1.5k

Warnings : Nothing that I know of.

Next - Series Masterlist.

"Is this it?" A red headed male asked, looking around the unfamiliar yet familiar building in front of them. Nathaniel.

"If the smarties' calculations are correct, then supposedly, we are where we need to be." The youngest member of the team replied with a small sigh. Stephanie.

"Of course it's right, it's us. When are we ever wrong?" The richest member of the team snarked back, making sure to add a sassy eye roll. Antoinette.

"When you said everyone in our team is straight." The archer responded in a tone so flat that you could mistake it for a serious statement. Clarissa.

A chuckle erupted from the quietest member of the team. "She got you good this time." Brielle.

"Bite back, Ms. Snarky." The group's ray of sunshine egged on, wanting to see drama unfolding in front of her very eyes again. Theodora.

"You guys will seriously argue any chance you get, huh?" A white haired female said with annoyance. Everyone immediately stopped talking as if it was their mom scolding them. Y/n.

"Six people are exiting the building. Two on your right, Steph. Two on your left, Brie. And two directly in front of us." Everyone immediately went into full alert mode, ready to fight if necessary.

Just like you said, six people came out of the building. Surprise was immediately shown on the Avengers faces when they saw the six people standing outside the building.

Steve Rogers, Captain America, was the first to speak up. "Who are you?"

"Luke, I am your father." Antoinette said seriously, making direct eye contact with the super soldier.

"Luke? My name isn't Luke." Steve furrowed his brows in confusion as the group of strangers infront of them tries to stifle a chuckle.

"Idiot, it's 'No, I am your father.'" The archer of the younger team would never pass on an opportunity to piss the young billionaire off.

"No? He says 'Luke', you dumb bitch, not 'No'." Y/n let out a loud sigh once those words left Antoinette's mouth, knowing this will lead to a long fight again.

Thankfully, she wasn't the only one who didn't want to go through the banter between the two girls.

"We're you, from a different reality." Steph answered seriously and truthfully, stepping forward to hide the two girls arguing and ignoring the confused looks on the heroes faces.

Silence immediately enveloped them, the avengers trying to study the unfamiliar faces infront of them. You decided to break the silence, knowing that you all didn't have time for staring contests.

"I believe it's best if we speak about this matter inside." You said with a friendly smile, revealing your dimples on both cheeks. Your london accent also surprised everyone, but no one chose to comment on it.

"And how can we trust that you won't try to kill us?" Steve asked, stepping forward to try and intimidate the group.

"Cuff us then." A chorus of disbelieving 'what?!'s could be heard from the younger group. A raise of your right hand, however, was able to silence them.

That didn't stop the quiet cursing and swearing from your group however.

"So you're saying that, you're us, from a different universe?" Tony asked with furrowed brows. They were in the avengers meeting room, the younger heroes all had cuffs on their hands, much to their displeasure.

"Yeah. I'm you," Annie said as she pointed at Tony. "from another reality, wherein you're a gal."

"Wait, wait, wait. So what are your names then?" Clint asked reluctantly, crossing his arms as he stared at the cuffed heroes.

The Vigilantes all looked at you first, seemingly asking for approval from their 'leader' before revealing important information. When you nodded, Clint's counterpart broke the silence.

"I'm Clarissa Francesca Barton, they call me Claire. I'm you, Hawkeye."

"Stephanie Grace Rogers, Steph." Steve raised his brows in surprise at his supposed female counterpart.

"Roxanne Brielle Banner. Guess you can call me Brie." Bruce nodded at his counterpart who just raised a brow at him in response.

"I'm Theodora Odinson, you can call me Thea. Hi, Thor." Thor waved at the girl who smiled at him in return.

Everyone then looked at Annie, who raised a brow at them once she noticed their gaze. "What? I wanna go last."

She sighed before rolling her eyes. "The name's Antoinette Edelle Stark. It's Annie for short, not Toni, not Nette, not anything else."

Tony smiled in triumph when he confirmed that he looks good in every universe, despite being the opposite gender.

"I'm Nate." The only boy in the team said flatly, earning a huff of annoyance from you.

"He's Nathaniel Alister Romanoff." You finished for him, ignoring the look of betrayal on his face.

"I'm Y/n Dawn Maximoff, according to our research, I'm Pietro Django Maximoff. I also have a twin," Your eyes shifted to Wanda, a look of understanding flashed in both their eyes. "His name was Walker Marco Maximoff."

"Wait— I appreciate knowing your names, but that doesn't prove anything, much more being from another universe." Steve asked, still cautious against them.

You sighed in annoyance, you didn't appreciate being asked multiple questions, especially again and again.

You stared at the keys of the handcuffs on the table away from you. You frowned and shifted your gaze to the cuffs on your hand, and suddenly it disappeared.

The avengers looked at you in shock, immediately going into a fighting position when you stood up. You raised your hands in the air to show you weren't doing anything fishy.

"Care to help us here, Y/N/N?" Annie said sarcastically, raising her hands that are still in cuffs.

You walk over to them and touched each of their cuffs that magically disappear each time. You walked over to Cap who backed away slightly. You scoffed and held out your hand that somehow now had all the cuffs.

"Take it, then I'll explain." You threw the cuffs at him, which he caught easily.

Nathaniel walked over to you and frowned, seeing that your wrist had red marks around them from the cuffs being too tight for you.

"Who placed cuffs on you? They need training or something." He said, adding a soft 'tsk' as he examined your wrists. Steve brows raised in surprise, obviously taking offense from that.

"I'm fine, Nate." You pulled your hands away from him and gave him a subtle glare for touching you.

"Anyways, as I was saying-"

"Are you two dating?" Your words were cut off by Natasha's sudden question. You raised your brows in shock, before smirking in amusement.

"Interested in my dating life, are we, Ms. Romanoff?" You asked, smirking teasingly. You saw a few of your members letting out a huff of annoyance hearing you flirting again. You chose to ignore them.

"No. We just don't appreciate having a couple in the team." She answered flatly. You tried reading her even if you knew very well you couldn't.

"But according to our research, you and Mr. Banner over there, had a small thing going on." You countered, raising a questioning brow at her. You didn't know why you even mentioned that, you and Nate really aren't a couple anyways. Maybe YOU are curious about her dating life.

Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. You didn't let the obvious awkward tension in the room deter you, instead, you sat on the arm rests of Nathan's chair, crossing your arms as you look at the team boredly.

"Being romantically attached to someone doesn't affect my team's performance in the field, don't worry." You saw Steph and Nate giving you a thankful smile, which you gladly returned as a teasing one once you saw them holding hands underneath the table.

Silence overtook the meeting room. The avengers were trying to read you and your team, while your team were just relishing in the fact that you guys know I'm something that the older heroes don't.

"As much as I like the confusion on your faces, we'll have to tell you why we're here." You paused, looking at Steph, a silent cue for her to explain.

"Our universe is fucked. Someone fucked with us a week ago, they wanted to destroy our reality. Luckily, we were able to somehow freeze the entire timeline there. We need to go back in time to fix this mess, to be able to prepare, to avoid our universe from disappearing."

"So you want to create a time machine in this universe to travel back in time to your universe?" Steve asked, his brows furrowing even more than before.

"Yeah."

"Why us?" Natasha asked, raising a brow— specifically at Y/n.

"Why not?" You answered with a shrug. "We have 2 years to do it."

Next - Series Masterlist

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x reader #gay gay gay #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x female #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n #ely !! ★ #by ely !! ★ #desired reality by ely

[siempre-bucky]

lemons and iron

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie didn't realize how badly he craved your touch until you cleaned him up after a fight with Jason Carver.

warnings: mentions of wounds, cuts, blood

wc: 1.6k

a/n: thank you for requesting, anon! I hope you liked it!!!

It was the third time you aggressively placed your pointer finger on your book, a low rumble escaped your throat as you found your place in the middle of the page. Sure, it was your fault that you chose to read during lunch. You looked up at your friends, reading the same book with less frustration written on their delicate features. The cause of the frustration and lack of focus? Eddie Munson and Jason Carver.  

They always managed to turn the crowded cafeteria into their own western standoff. Some comment leads to Eddie hopping on tables which leads to a bitter exchange of words from Jason while Eddie laughs at him. You kept your eyes trained on your book, knowing that if you looked up at him you wouldn’t be able to look away. 

Safe to say you had a crush on the guy you shared most of your classes with. Eddie was always kind to you, like when he sat beside you in English he always made sure to give you the handout that didn’t look completely eaten by the printer. He stepped aside when he saw you coming into class so you could enter first, sticking his arm out and a charming smile adorning his lips. He cracked jokes and always laughed at your quips. It made you feel fuzzy just sitting there thinking about him. 

The sound of the table moving and the thud of shoes hitting the ground made you finally look at the scene unfolding. Jason and Eddie stood there, eyes locked in a bitter battle and their spines straight as blades. Eddie’s hands fell casually to his side while Jason’s fists balled angrily. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. 

Jason said something inaudible to the crowd growing around them, then stepped forward and jammed two of his fingers into Eddie’s collarbone. Eddie chuckled, “Alright, that’s enough, big boy,” he scoffed as he turned away to leave. Jason scowled and shoved him again. 

You don’t know how it happened, as if a confident spirit overtook your body, you didn’t realize you jumped out of your seat and quickly walked over. You stood in between them, “Jason that’s enough,” you shouted. 

“This has nothing to do with you,” he seethed, his opened hand pressing to your chest and shoving you to the cold floor. Eddie’s expression didn’t change until he heard the smack of your head hitting the floor. His ring-clad hand balled up, punching Jason square in the cheek. 

The world around you was spinning, the sounds of fists colliding with faces, and the cheers from students egging them on became static-like. After the dizziness subsided, you slowly stood up and gripped Eddie by the back of his denim vest while a teacher restrained the basketball star. “Are you ok?” Eddie asked, turning to you. Your heart sank at the sight of his bloody face, his lower lip cut with the crimson fluid dribbling down his chin. Then you looked at Jason, small holes littered his face from Eddie’s rings, he looked worse in comparison.

“I’m fine,” you whispered with a small nod, “We need to get you to the nurse.” 

Eddie let you walk with him to the nurse's office, the pain in his face making him walk slower than normal but you didn’t mind. You matched his speed, looking up every once in a while to check if the bleeding stopped; it didn't. Once you reached the light-colored oak door, you saw the white piece of paper taped to it with ‘back in 15’ written in red Sharpie. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned. 

“Look. I’m all good, sweetheart. No need to worry about me, kay?” Eddie told you, regretting smiling down in your direction after his lip resplit open.

You shook your head and grabbed onto the sleeve of his well-worn Metallica shirt, once again dragging him down the hall. You always kept a small first aid kit in your backpack, just in case of emergencies. The emergencies in your mind typically included paper cuts, ceramics class incidents, and gym class, but never did you think you’d have to use its contents on your crush. 

You nearly threw him into the empty girl's bathroom even after his continuous protests. He hopped up onto the sink, letting his long legs dangle while you placed your bag on the ground and dug through it trying to locate the box. 

After placing the white box on the edge of the sink, you dragged your hands along his own and slipped off the bloody rings. 

Eddie’s body stiffened as he felt your hands on him. Watching diligently as your graceful hands slid off the rings one by one, letting them fall into the sink with loud clinks against the porcelain. Your fingers felt so soft as you traced along the digits, he could smell the faint scent of your lemon hand cream mixed with the iron of his blood. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but when you put it on during class he’d imagine what it would be like to have your hands on him.  

They were everything he hoped they would be. Soft, delicate, careful, perfection. He looked down at you, your face solemn as you wiped around his knuckles with a wet paper towel. “Does it hurt?” you asked gently, grabbing a small roll of gauze. 

“No, not anymore,” he answered simply. He pressed his lips together in a tight line, afraid he might blurt out how much he was enjoying this. Even though it stung every time you touched it, he didn’t mind as long as it was you touching him. 

“I-I uh have to clean your face,” you informed him nervously. 

Eddie nodded and leaned forward ever so slightly in anticipation. You grabbed another paper towel and hesitantly held his chin in your hand. A wave of warmth rushed through him, goosebumps spreading out on his pale skin. Naturally, he leaned into your touch, his chin relaxing into the palm of your hand. 

Your other hand worked on his split lip, avoiding the cut as you swiped away the dried blood. Eddie Munson had freckles, you noted. They were sparse, barely there, and kissed on rather than dusted. You were envious of the angel that got to place them on his skin while Eddie was envious of every person who’s gotten to feel your soothing touch. You let your finger linger on his swollen lip while you folded the paper towel and wiped it under his nose. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, jolting backward as you bumped his nose. His brown eyes instantly filled with tears, his hand wrapping around your wrist. Your eyebrows knitted together, a string of apologies flooding from your lips and your other hand pulling away from his chin 

“Jesus Christ,” you whined, “I am so sorry, Eddie.” 

He exhaled deeply and released you while he blinked away the tears. “It’s ok, princess,” he winced, “You didn’t mean to… keep going.” Keep touching me. 

Eddie closed his eyes as he felt your soft hands on his face once more. He wasn’t used to someone touching him so delicately, even the nurses he had over the years weren’t as nice as you. He typically got a scolding from the school nurse after one of his lunchroom fights and a band-aid shoved roughly onto his cut. 

But you? He craved your delicate touch. He never thought he’d be able to experience a touch like this, he never felt worthy of such intimacy, certainly not by a girl he fancied.  

You leaned in a little closer while you placed ill-tasting ointment on the small cuts he gained. “Don’t taste it,” you giggled as his tongue poked out to touch his cut. In your laughter, you placed your hand on his knee. 

Eddie noticed right away as the shockwaves went up his thigh. “I was tempted,” he chuckled as he opened his eyes, his hand finding yours. You flinched but didn’t pull away, allowing him to wrap his hand around yours. 

“Eddie,” you whispered, leaving in closer. 

“Yes?” He leaned in, closing more of the distance. 

His lips were right there, bruised yet still beautiful. Your eyes flickered to the bridge of his nose, “I need to put a band-aid on your nose.” 

Eddie blushed and rescinded his hand from yours. He nodded nervously and dipped his head low. You rummaged through your bandaids until you found the one most fitting. You placed a black band-aid on his nose and put your hands on the sides of his face, lifting his blushing face to make sure you covered all the cuts. “Do I look ok?” he smirked, his own hands snaking up your forearms. 

“Perfect,” you grinned, nodding along to your statement. 

You stood there in silence after he got off the sink, his hands refusing to let you go. “Your hands are soft,” he commented, making you smile. 

“I-it’s this lemon stuff I use. I got it at the mall and my friends said it would help the dryness during winter, and they actually do get reall-'' you stopped your nervous rant as he started to laugh. 

“I know,” he said, his thumbs running along your wrist. 

Your fingers began to twitch lightly against his skin. Then it hit you—he was enjoying this. The pads of your fingers pressed harder into his skin, pulling his face closer to yours. “Can I?” you whispered. 

He nodded eagerly. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your lips were even softer than the hands that bandaged him. “You missed,” he teased. 

Eddie felt your lips spread into a smile. “I’ll kiss you properly when your lip heals,” you tell him lightheartedly, lifting up on your tiptoes while you brought his head lower and kissed his forehead, your nose scrunching from his bangs tickling your nose. 

“Let me hold your hand instead?” he asked, raising one of his eyebrows. 

You nodded eagerly and pulled away, letting him take your hand in his. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: female reader, slight dub-con to con, degradation, sex toys pt.1 Happy Valentine's 💞💞💞

Bitchy mean girl, who basically forces you to come to her house every weekend with the pretext that she needs tutoring - and who's more fitting to help her fix her grades than her favourite little nerd?

You actually come prepared too, pink cutesy backpack stuffed with textbooks, footnotes, highlights and colourful markers. But the moment you step inside her house and Jess sees the sheer academic arsenal you've prepared, she burst into torching, mocking laughter. She flicks at your forehead, wiping off a single tear.

"You really thought we were going to study?" She scoffs, dragging you into her lap - smirking as she watches you panic and whine to be let go. She kisses you roughly, determined to get your lips fully wet and shiny, saliva dripping down your chin once she finally pulls away. "You're more stupid than I thought." The cheerleader grins with endearment. "You're lucky you're so cute."

She takes hold of both your thighs and spreads them apart, leering at the lacy white panties peeking underneath your skirt.

"Looks like you came prepared after all." Jess taunts, playing with the flimsy, frilly pink lining - toying with the little ribon in the middle of it. "Maybe deep down you knew this would happen." She grips your jawline, forcing your head up - eyes set on her lips. "Or ma-aybe... you were actually hoping it would." Her hand slips to your neck. "Which one is it, little slut?"

"N-no, it's not like that!" You try to defend yourself, cheeks heating up by the second. "I-I, I wasn't, I didn't-" You stumble all over your words - but your body betrays you, back arching wantonly as Jess brushes a single finger across your clothed slit. Giggling with content at your desperation, she starts rubbing you over your panties, enjoying the way you squirm and shake your head as if fighting the pleasure.

"You weren't what, nerd? You weren't trying to get yourself fucked like a proper whore?" The girl all but hisses down your throat, biting at your jugular - letting her lips soothe the initial sting. "You weren't trying to be all slutty and cute, making me want you?" You can feel her fingers finally, finally make their way down the elastic band, cupping your mound before the first digit slips inside you, forcing a lewd, breathy moan out of you. "You're so wet for me, yet you keep acting like you don't want it."

Her lips stretch into a thin, self evident smirk as she reaches for something in her pocket you can't make out from beneath her. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes still glassy from her teasing - both anxious and excited to see what's next.

"I have just the right thing for a little bratty bitch like you." Jess pulls you into yet another messy, sloppy kiss, grinning at the sight of your chin stained all over by her bright red lipstick. It makes you look so... hers. "Let's see how long you can hide your true feelings once I have you coming your brains out." She says, teeth bared with a sadistic little gleam in her dark blue eyes. You hear a buzzing sound - and then your vision fills with blurry lines and stars and raw, red - hot pleasure you can feel deep in your guts.

The cheerleader nests the small vibrator snugly against your clit, setting your nerves on fire. It's all too much - her soft, delicate hands touching you all over, the dirty whispers in your ear egging you on, the waves of ecstasy flooding your body each and every second. You try to catch your breath, but every time you open your mouth, the sounds that come out are all whiner and needier than the last.

"Aww, you're already doing so good for me, baby." Jess coos, head resting against your shoulder - holding you down tightly as your body writhes and jumps as if devoid of any control. "See? It's so much better to be honest." She presses the vibrator down once again, watching your button swell and twitch in overstimulation. "Let go completely." She licks your neck, driving you even wilder. "Let me make you mine, m'kay?"

And you think, hell, you might as well.

#yandere #yancore #female yandere #female yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #female yandere x you #female yandere x female reader

[satrs]

Wait can I rq reo x reader x nagi threesome

URGHHH YES ANON!!!!<33 I'm so sorry for the late reply, I'm a bit stressed lately:( Hope ur having an amazing day!! <3

Double Trouble!

Tags; fem!reader. pro!player Reo and Nagi(+18) unprotected sex(wrap your shi up yo). dirty talk(?). 3some(obv). Overstim. Creampie. Messy sex. Cum eating. Nicknames. not proofread.

word count; 1.2k

You never thought that you would find yourself in that kind of situation.

In between two soccer stars, getting the best fuck of your life.

It was originally a silly joke from your side, saying how you wouldn’t mind to fuck the both of them, turning into sweet reality.

„Keep your eyes on Nagi, pretty princess.“ you were in a cage of euphoria, tears streaming down your face as you felt Nagi's hips snap into you over and over again, stirring your insides.

„Can’t, I can’t reo. It’s too much.“ Reo pinched your perky nipples at your statement, „too much? But isn’t that what you wanted pretty? Getting fucked real good?“

You only mustered a shaky moan in return, the tongue threatening to lull out of your mouth, the pleasure the both pro athletes were gifting you almost too much to bear.

„Leave her be. Can’t you see she’s already fucked out?“ Nagis comment caused Reo to snicker, peppering kisses onto your neck and shoulders, heavy breath running shills through your spine as his hard length was straining against his boxers.

„Just wanted to tease her a bit, that’s all. You like that don’t you princess?“, you nodded your head quickly, eyebrows frowning as you felt your orgasm nearing.

Reo let a hum pass his lips, hand traveling from your round tits to your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles around it.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, legs shaking as you felt that familiar sensation in your lower belly threatening to burst.

„I’m sososo close, fuck! Just like that, please don’t stop.“ You were a total mess at this point. Pornographic moans and whines escaping your mouth.

Just as you were about to cum, you felt emptiness erupting your body, feeling none of the men on you.

“Not yet, doll. Reo still needs his share.” You whined at the loss of contact, Nagis voice echoing into your skull.

„Wanna end things so soon pretty princess? Aww, I’m so hurt.“ The purple haired male stated sarcastically, quick to switching positions with his friend.

His boxers flew to the ground, one hand squeezing the fat of your thigh while aligning himself to your entrance.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you felt Reos cock swipe along your folds, soaked in nagis pre-cum and your juices.

„Nagi Come on. You didn’t finish yet right?“ Reo egged Nagi on, triggering the white haired male to position himself in front of your mouth, his still hard dick pressing onto your plump lips, eager to push his length deep into your throat.

„Say ahhh.“

This was so humiliating. But you were just too out of your mind to think about it any longer, complying to nagis request, plump lips wrapping around his aching cock.

Nagi threw his head back, slightly gasping at the feeling of his tip brushing along your throat. "Just like that."

You moaned around his length as you felt something prodding at your entrance, Nagi's hand flying to take a fistful of your hair and grunting at the vibration of the action.

"My turn now." Reo chuckled at his statement, the hand leaving a red imprint on the back of your thigh from its harsh impact.

He sank in, hips sensually meeting yours, tongue running over his lips as he felt the tightness of your heat. His rhythm got quicker as he felt overwhelmed with the tightness of your weeping cunt.

You on the other hand were a definition of the word mess. You lost count of how many times you already came, still desperately aching for more. Drool escaped the sides of your mouth as you choked around Nagi’s length, the taste of your own juices lightly recognizable on your taste buds, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Reo’s hands wandered over your body greedily.

His fingers danced along your hips, moving up to your breast as he leaned in while attaching his lips to your nipple, tongue dancing around it. You choked on a moan, hand flying into reo‘s locs, tightly grabbing them. He groaned at the feeling, softly biting your nipple, earning a yelp from you, gifting him a deeper angle to hit inside of you.

Nagi was watching the scene unfold before him, eyes hanging low and mouth slightly agar in pleasure, coating himself at the feeling of your throat tight around his tip, causing his grip on your hair to tighten, hips stuttering up into your mouth. You took what Nagi gave you, helplessly complying and letting him fuck your throat sore.

He threw his head back, eyes clenching, „Fuck I’m gonna cum.“ This caused Reo to straighten, the pace of his hips speeding up, roughly stirring up your insides, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. „Shit - me too. Such a good little slut. Letting us fill her up everywhere,hm?“

You didn‘t think he would expect an answer, but as Nagi swiftly pulled out of your mouth, leaving you coughing, he lifted your head up by the hair, causing you to look at him, chin drenched in spit. „Answer him.“

You groaned at Nagis tight grip and the feeling of Reo’s fingers working on your overstimulated bud, whining out an answer. „Yes - fuck! You can use me, fill me up.“ You babbled words out of spite, rambling on about your god knows what orgasm.

The purple haired male’s grip on your hip turned firm, hips stuttering, „Good girl. Where do you want it?“ You whined, looking up at Nagi as you noticed him stroking his cock, cum threatening to leak from his slit. „I-Inside Reo! Please!“

You heard Nagi curse under his breath, biting his lower lip intensely, almost drawing blood. „I’m gonna paint your face all pretty, yeah? Do you want that doll?“, you frantically nodded your head at his question, and not long after hearing a loud groan erupt from his lips, causing you to close your eyes and open your mouth wide, trying to catch every drop of his incoming cum in your mouth.

He did not fail to paint your entire face in his thick seed, a sigh escaping his lips at the sight of it. Reo let out a whine at the sight of your messed up face, one last movement of his hips followed by his dick painting your walls in a white color.

You licked up what happened to land on your lips, causing Nagi to smirk down at you, biting your lower lip after at the feeling of Reo’s cum flooding out of your abused hole. Reo scooped up some of the cum spurting out, placing his finger on your lip. You eagerly licked his finger clean, causing him to smile.

„Never thought she’s such a dirty little thing.“, the white haired stated, taking your chin in hand while his thumb collected some of reo‘s cum escaping your mouth, pushing it right back in.

„I’m not complaining.“, Reo answered, sensually trailing his fingers from the valley of your breasts to your belly button, admiring your painted pussy. Eyes eagerly locking with yours, excitement visible in them.

„Think you can take both of us at the same time now, princess?“ you looked away shyly, thighs pressing together in thought. „Dunno…“

Nagi responded by pulling your thighs apart with one of his hands, squeezing it. „C‘mon doll. We know you can.“

You were in for it now, and you knew this was by far not the end. But what did you expect by throwing oil into the fire? But hey, you only life once, right? A little trouble always gets you going- and especially double trouble.

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴮᴸᴸᴷ #blue lock smut #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #blue lock #blue lock nagi #nagi smut #bllk nagi #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #x reader #reo bllk #reo smut #blue lock reo #bllck #bllk #bllk smut #bllk fanfic #bllk reo #bllk imagines

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

“no purity”

❤︎ synopsis — he’s such a tease… always egging you on and irritating you. so now, he’ll just prove his point to you over and over again

pairing: vessel x afab!reader

theme: smut ❣︎

a/n: first sleep token fic! this was done per the request of my lovely friend @dead-end-fanfiction , the ask will be linked here. enjoy~

cw: nsfw content. gender neutral pronouns for the reader. thigh riding. lots of teasing from vessel. slight dirty talk. degradation.

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“you’re tense, darling,”

“shut up, i know i am,”

how did they find themself in this situation again?

y/n was currently perched up on vessel’s thigh, staring down at him with a mixture of both irritation and anticipation. their breath was haste, dripping with an unknown sense of desire as they stared down the dark, mysterious man, who only wore a pearly white grin underneath his mask.

they were both in vessel’s office. he was leaned back against his red, velvety chair, the fabric brushing against vessel’s bare thighs. he looked cozy, despite the rather sexual situation he was in with the person who’s thighs were straddling his leg.

vessel just let out a chuckle, amused by the predicament they both found themselves in.

“well?” he started out, his voice feigning innocence underneath his knowing smirk. “you gonna start moving or what?”

they could only scowl at the masked man, not appreciating how smug he was being. “with that attitude, i won’t be moving at all.” y/n hissed out with narrow eyes, but that only seemed to amuse this eccentric deity.

“oh, honey… you’re the one that started this, remember?” vessel reminded, his tone velvety smooth with cockiness laced into his mannerisms. “i can sit here all day, and not do a single thing… just watching you drip your wetness all over my thigh,”

y/n was about to retort back, but they bit their tongue. as much as they wanted deny it, vessel was right; they did start this. but it wasn’t even intentional!

they just wanted to ask vessel a question. one. simple. question. but of course, the dark figure had to pull one of his wild cards, irritating y/n and prompting them to challenge vessel.

and that challenge? well, it was a battle of self control.

stripped completely of their pants, with nothing but their shirt on, vessel followed suit, and the two of them were just staring at each other, lust clearly clouding their eyes. sheet music was scattered all over the floor because of how haste vessel had gotten with putting y/n in this position, but he didn’t care.

especially when he got to tease them like this.

“look at you… so turned on just from sitting on my thigh,” the entity mocked with a provocative tease.

vessel’s voice was slickly sweet, a hint of mischief was in his tone. he was amused; amused at how easy it was to get y/n going. they were soaking wet all over his thigh, so much so that it was shimmering in the dimly lit room.

y/n could only roll their eyes at vessel’s words, their nails digging into his shoulders a little more. “you’re one to talk about being turned on, especially when your little friend over there seems to be having a bit of a problem.”

they nudged their knee in between vessel’s legs, brushing it against his clothed, hardened erection. he let out a rather loud groan from the contact, and vessel just chuckled lustfully.

“little? you wound me, dearie. it’s not little at all.” vessel spoke with a smug tone, a smirk evident on his face. “quite the opposite, actually.”

“shut up. we’re not gonna start talking about your dick.” y/n quickly shot down, blushing when they realized what vessel’s words entailed.

“awh look at that! you’re already blushing at the thought of me being too big and thick for you to handle.” he practically cackled out, relishing in the embarrassed emotions y/n was feeling.

they could only scoff and whip their head to look away from vessel. y/n didn’t have any sort of witty comment to get back at vessel.

they hated that he was so right too.

“now then… how about we get on track again, eh?” he spoke so smoothly, but his voice had so much arrogance to it. y/n gritted their teeth upon hearing this, but they just couldn’t be mad at him, not when they were being so intimate like this.

“you’re so goddamn annoying.”

“sure i am, but you love it. that’s why you’re so goddamn wet all over me.”

y/n really wanted to wipe that smirk off of vessel’s face, but they couldn’t bring themselves to. going back and forth with vessel has only gotten them more worked up, and they haven’t even done anything to relieve themself of this aching sensation that pooled in their stomach.

and vessel definitely took notice of this.

gripping their hips more tightly, vessel’s brazen and calloused fingers dug into the sides of y/n’s hips. he bounced his knee upwards teasingly to send jolts of pleasure up y/n’s body, making them whine out loud.

“fuck!” they moaned loudly, digging their nails into vessel’s shoulders.

“ahh… there we are, there’s the little slut talking.” he chided with a smirk, knowing the power he has over y/n.

it didn’t help that the friction only caused y/n to become even more wet. they could feel their leaking juices trickle down their inner thigh and onto vessel’s skin. and through it all, vessel still just emitted a cocky and sexy aura that made y/n just want to ruin their cunt all over his thigh.

it was so humiliating, but it turned them on so fucking much.

“i won’t repeat myself, darling.” vessel spoke with a taunting, almost threatening tone that was shrouded in promiscuous desire. “start grinding that pretty pussy on me, or i’ll make you move myself.”

his words were vulgar, but his words and the way he delivered them had so much power to them it drive y/n crazy.

y/n didn’t even think twice before they slowly started moving their hips in an up and down rhythm, keeping their pace slow. it felt like time had stopped for them specifically, just a little world where vessel and y/n could let their desires spill.

y/n rutted their puffy cunt all over vessel’s thigh, smearing his ashy skin with their juices. that feeling of doing all the work to get themselves off while vessel just sat there watching, it was enough to make y/n whimper from both frustration and arousal.

“g-god fucking dammit … mmmmh…” they managed to rasp out, and vessel groaned in response.

“that’s it… move your hips just like that..” vessel growled out, his nails digging crescent-shaped marks into y/n’s hips.

he guided their hips along his bare thigh, keeping his hands tight on y/n’s body as they were grinding up and down on his leg. the way they were moving just turned vessel on even more, the sight was so hot.

“ahh.. would ya look at that? you’re moving like a fucking pornstar.” vessel spat out, his voice still holding that lustrous tone that kept y/n whining and grinding on his leg.

“where’d you learn to do that, eh? you sleepin’ around with the other band members or what?” his voice was sharp, and a bit cruel. he just kept on speaking. “going around like the bitch in heat you are, getting other mens’ dicks wet for your dripping wet cunt? such a fucking slut… you’d do anything to get yourself off, won’t you?”

but those words just encouraged y/n to keep riding vessel’s thigh like no tomorrow, their movements speeding up slightly. they didn’t even bother to respond to vessel’s humiliating words.

vessel took notice of this immediately, and let out a lustful scoff, bouncing his leg up again to make y/n moan loudly. “mmmh.. not talking now, huh? that’s fine…”

he lifted them up slightly, and changed the angle to which y/n was riding his thigh, making it more pleasurable for their nether regions.

“just keep riding my thigh and prove to me what a little slut you are.”

and ride they did. y/n was moving their hips in such an erotic and frantic rhythm, it caused both parties to moan and groan from the feeling. that’s all they could think of; up, down. up down.

y/n hated how easily vessel got to them, how his words could turn them from a prissy, almost bratty little spitfire, to a mess of nothing but lust, desire and frustration.

but it always had them yearning for more. and damn did they love it.

as they continued to spread their juices all over vessel, their frantic movements were slowly pushing them closer to orgasm, that blissful climax they’ve been craving all this time.

“v-vessel… i’m so close..” y/n mewled out, and vessel was savoring that sound and feeling.

“oh.. you want to cum? does this whore want to cum all over me?” vessel questioned with that cruel, teasing voice.

he gripped their hips tightly and forced them down on his leg more, causing them to cry out in pleasure. “say it. say that you want it,”

“i-i want to cum! i want to cum all over your thigh! all over myself like the whore i am!” y/n practically screamed, getting desperate for a release.

vessel was satisfied to hear that; and so he guided their hips more across his leg to aid them to a climax. “that’s it… that’s the slut i love so much… now cum. cum all over the place.”

it seemed that his words were on command, because y/n’s hips spasmed wildly and their threw their head over vessel’s shoulder, crying out loudly in pleasure as they came all over his leg.

warm liquid trickled down their inner thighs and all over vessel’s leg, their essence coating his leg white. y/n breathed heavily to catch their breath, and vessel just chuckled and patted their head reassuringly.

“good little pet.” is all he said, a smile can be heard from his tone of voice.

after a bit of time of calming down, y/n caught their breath and attempted to get up from vessel’s leg, but his strong hands forced them to straddle his leg again, making them whine.

“vessel…?” y/n questioned with a slightly dazed tone, but the dark entity just chuckled.

“oh no… i’m not done with you yet, sweetie.” vessel whispered. he moved his hands to unbuckle the belt on the loops of his pants, sagging the clothing down. y/n looked down with wide eyes, watching vessel’s hardened cock spring free.

but he only chuckled knowingly. this was going to be a long night.

“i hope you’re ready for round two, baby, because it’s going to just get better from here.”

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#sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #vessel x reader #vessel smut #sleep token smut #smut fanfiction #sleep token vessel #vessel #st vessel #sleep token fic #vessel fanfic #smutty fanfiction #smutty drabble #sleep token x reader

[barleyo]

Pollen. (part two)

Recom! Miles Quaritch X Fem! Reader

A/N: Hope this doesn’t seem rushed, I had so many ideas and sadly not all of them got to be implemented, but there’s always next time! As always, requests are always open. Enjoy!

Wordcount: 1.7k

Tags: Age difference, publics sex, work sex, p in v, oral (fem receiving), switching positions, interspecies sex, human x Na'vi sex, smut with minimal plot, size kink, sex pollen

Tagged users: @personaldemons-stuff @faerienotfound @torukmakto22

Quaritch followed her directions and made his way back to the base, not without difficulty. The way she read off coordinates and answered questions on call made it hard for him to resist stopping again to get off, to stroke his cock while she egged him on.

He caught himself palming his erection through his cargos when (Y/N) would yawn, huff, or groan, shifting around in her seat innocently, not realizing what her sounds did to him. 

“I see Hell’s Gate, missy. Be ready for me,” he said.

“I will be,” (Y/N) said. Miles could hear a lock unlatch. “I’m in the lab, there's a tiny office in the back, I’ll wait for you there.” He swore he could hear her giggle before she shut off her walkie talkie. 

“Lil’ tease.”

Quaritch walked onto the base. The shift from soft Pandorian mud to hard cement under his boots went unnoticed to him, focused only on what was waiting for him inside. The cool air pumping through the building did nothing to stop the sweat dripping down his face and toned, blue arms. Nothing but (Y/N) could stop the itch in him.

Not a thought entered his mind as he entered the lab. Scientists and technicians alike snapped their heads over to the Colonel, hearing his heavy steps. 

“Out.”

“Excuse me?” someone said, some nobody that was in his way. 

“Everyone, get out. Now, I mean,” he drawled, stepping out of the doorway to usher the group out. “Don’t come back.” He slammed the door on the lot and scanned the room for a door in the back that would house a waiting (Y/N).

A door slid open, revealing the woman cloaked in a white lab coat that Quaritch couldn’t wait to remove. He jogged over and pushed her back into the room, sliding the door back into place. The room was, as she had described, small. He had to slouch down to fit, leaning nearly completely over (Y/N) in the process. 

“Are they all gone–?” she tried to ask before being hushed by Quaritch’s finger. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He removed his finger and instead placed his hand under her face, cupping it and bringing it close to his own. “Waited for this long enough, ‘m gonna take you right here.” 

He pressed a hot, rough kiss to her lips, already nipping at them with his pointed teeth. Miles held the back of her head with one hand, and sat her on the desk with the other, pushing her back flat on the surface. Blindly, his hands found the zipper of her pants and undid it, pulling the fabric down to expose her laced panties, a wet spot forming at the front. 

“Can already smell you, honey. Bet you need me down there more than up here suckin’ on those sweet lips of yours,” he said, pulling away from her face, admiring her red, puffy lips, and settled himself between her thighs, kneeling on the cool linoleum floor. “Gonna kiss your other lips for now,” he chuckled and traced the outline of her pussy through her panties, feeling her shift under his touch. 

“Please, don’t tease me,” she sighed, legs hooking over his shoulders.

“So impatient.” He pulled her panties off with his teeth, letting his sharp, fang-esque canines graze against her thighs as he moved.

She shivered at the air hitting her slick cunt and bare legs. She wasn’t cold for long as Quaritch grabbed her thighs and locked them under his arms, spreading them wide. He licked a stripe over the inside of one, teasing the skin lightly. His tongue was rough and textured. It was intoxicating. He did the same to the other, and bit into the plush skin. (Y/N) cried in a mixture of pain and deep pleasure as Quaritch ran his tongue over the punctures, cleaning up the pricked blood. 

He grew bored at only licking her thighs, though, and brought his mouth to her pussy. His large tongue slid through her wet folds, slowly teasing through, from her entrance to her pulsing clit. He stopped at her nub and clasped his lips around it, sucking on the tender bud. He let messy dribbles of spit fall from his mouth to coat her cunt and mix with her juices, slurping it up and spitting it back out in an endless cycle.  

“Need you,” (Y/N) whined, not sure what she was whining for, “please, Colonel, please.”

He looked up at her from between her legs, loudly slurping at her clit when they made eye contact. “What d’you need? Can’t give you what you don’t ask for,” he said, muffled by her pussy. 

“Fingers. Can you put your fingers in me? Please, want ‘em bad.”

“Got it, you greedy thing,” Quaritch brought his face away from her cunt. It was shiny and slick from her wetness and his own saliva. He dragged his long fingers through her folds. “Mouth ain’t enough for you? Need something stretching out this slutty, little cunt.” He dipped a finger into her, pushing deeper into her when her hips bucked against his hand. 

“Gonna cum, ‘m real close,” (Y/N) moaned, throwing her head back on the desk. 

“So damn worked up, hardly even did anything to you, baby.” He slipped another finger in, scissoring them to loosen her up. He curled his fingers inside of her, catching her spongy spot with them and gave small kitten licks to her clit. “There you go, just like that.”

Her walls fluttered around his two fingers and clamped down, juices pumping out of her cunt as she came. Her eyes rolled back as he quickened his pace, abusing her g-spot and overstimulating her. He finally pulled his fingers out, popped his fingers into his mouth, and sucked off the remainder of her arousal on them. 

“Come here, baby,” he briefly picked her up, taking her place on the desk and sat her on his lap. “Come taste yourself in my mouth, tastes like magic.” He pushed into her mouth again, tangling his tongue with hers, sucking it and twirling it around. Quaritch explored deeper into her mouth while he unzipped his cargos, pulling his dick out. 

“Oh, Christ,” she said, breaking the kiss when she felt him slip his dick between her thighs. He placed a firm grip on her hips, bruising them with the tips of his fingers. 

“Hush, (Y/N), let me wet my cock with your pussy.” He inched her forward, dick sliding between her folds but not entering. Still holding her hips, he moved her body up and down, fucking her inner thighs. Trails of slick formed on his long, striped cock. His purple, blushing tip peaked at her every time he brought her hips down, sending waves of pleasure from the friction. 

Quaritch angled her body forward a bit, letting his tip make direct contact with her tip every time he thrusted. 

“Ready to put it in, relax,” he cooed into her ear, pressing a kiss behind it. Miles lifted her up again and slipped the fat head of his cock into (Y/N), feeling her clamp onto his length already. “Hold on now,” he said, “relax, now. Don’t want you cummin’ too quick.” He brought her up again and sunk her body back down, this time inching more of his dick into her. He repeated his action again and again until she had swallowed his entirety. 

“It’s too much, feels too full  n’ big,” she moaned, clamping around his cock whenever he would move. 

“You’re a tough girl, you can take it,” Quaritch groaned, bucking his hips into her. He started with a slow, gentle pace, easing into her before speeding up. He took it up a notch when he noticed her grinding onto his cock, searching for more. “You want more? More, girl?”

“Yes, more,” her words slurred together, “need it deeper.”

Quaritch hummed and flipped (Y/N)’s body around, bending her over the desk and forcing her ass in the air. “You can take it,” he bent down and whispered into her ear. He bottomed out into her, pressing against her cervix’s tip without mercy, and pounded into her cunt. 

“Fuck!” 

He gave her ass a light smack, just enough to make it blush a beautiful red. He did this to the other cheek as well, smirking when (Y/N) let out a pained moan. Placing his hands back on her hips, he rutted into her quickly, letting the sound of skin slapping crowd the room. Staring at where their bodies met, he watched as a white ring of arousal mark the base of his cock. 

“Creaming all over my dick, you nasty thing. Bet you gonna break any minute now.”

He was right. She wasn’t too far from cumming, her belly felt a familiar warmth creep up into it. 

“Please, can I cum? Please, I need to soon,” she begged, sweat beading down her forehead and cheeks.

“Not yet. You’ll know when you can, believe that.” Quaritch’s hips stuttered as he said this, chasing his own impending release. He held off, not ready to give into his needs. “Fuckin’ choking me with your pussy, tight as hell,” he growled, feelings his balls tighten. 

His head felt light and he was dizzy. The room was too hot and too cold at the same time, and he felt so suffocatingly lost in her cunt that he didn’t realize what he was saying. “Cum, baby, all over me. C’mon now.” He nestled into her, going as deep as he could to cum in her. 

“God,” she moaned, “cummin’ now, Colonel!” Her foot hooked around his ankle as she came, holding onto him for some sense of stability as her legs nearly gave out under her. 

“Good fuckin’ girl, good– good girl,” he said while his chest heaved. His hips sputtered against her ass one more time before he came in her, seed leaking out of her ruined cunt when he pulled out. 

(Y/N) squirmed out of his arm and sat back on the desk, covering up her bare chest. “Feel any better?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Miles said, returning to the most of his full height as he could manage in the small office, “definitely not done with you yet, though.”

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