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spookysteddie · 5 months

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The Very First Date

Modern!Steve Harrington x college!fem!reader

Part two to "lemon drop martini" ... Read part one here

18+ MINORS DNI

desc: you finally call Steve for that first date. And it goes better than you imagined

cw: alcohol mention (reader is not in the slightest drunk), slight Dom!Steve, cocky!Steve begging, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie. (let mw know if I missed anything)

wc: 2.8k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoy this! based off of this ask who asked me for a part two a while ago (I am so sorry). My writers block has lifted after like a year and here we are! So expect more fics soon!

...

Three days.

You’d waited three days before calling the number on the napkin.

Well that’s a lie. You actually called the number the next day (after eating a greasy meal, drinking a shit ton of water, and downing some aspirin… nothing like a hangover) from your roommate Alixs phone. But the second he answered, you hung up very fast.

Alix, of course, called you a little baby back bitch and told you that you needed to call him. That it’d be nice to have some perks around your little college town.

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

To say you were nervous talking on the phone with him would be an understatement, in fact you were shitting myself. Scared he’d be able to hear it in your voice how nervous you were. Or, worse, that he wouldn’t remember you.

Four days ago:

“This is Steve Harrington speaking. How can I help you?”

You took a deep breath, putting a smile on your face in the hopes it’ll translate through the telephone.

“Hi, Steve. I-it’s y/n. From the bar the other night.” You cringe at the slight stutter and the wave in your voice. “You gave me your number on the napkin.”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, coolness seeping from his voice, “lemon drop martini girl. Of course I remember you, sweetheart.”

You quietly sigh in relief that he remembers.

“Oh good! I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I was a little hung over and then I had to study and take exams. Finals season.” You laugh awkwardly, cursing yourself for rambling and making a fool out of yourself. Alix would be rolling her eyes.

Steve laughs on the other end of the line, “ah yes. I hated finals. Very frustrating. Hence why I dropped out, much to my fathers dislike.”

One thing about you is that you love oversharing. But you love when other people overshare even more. There’s nothing like bonding over a trauma dump.

You giggle into the phone which makes Steve giggle too, the sound mimicking a sweet song. All you want to make him do it again.

“Anyway, sweetheart, I was wondering if you had plans for Friday night?” His tone is cool and relaxed. You could only wish to sound like that.

Your heart pounds in your chest, words failing you for a moment. “Oh! Um, nothing actually.”

“Perfect. Hows ‘bout you and I go on a little date? I know a great place. Kinda fancy. What do you say?”

You could kick your feet like a little girl at the prospect of going out with him. You, also, are tempted to make him wait. To give him just a little bit of a hard time. It was what you'd usually do to the men you like. But there was something in the back of your mind begging you not to.

“I-I would like that, Steve.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Give you time to study and get ready. Take a nap even.”

…

“I can’t do this. I can’t go. I mean, fuck, I have nothing to wear.”

Nothing to wear was an understatement. You could hardly see the floor of your bedroom, clothes littering it with only a small path for where you keep walking from the mirror to your closet.

Alix sits on your bed, drinking some wine and eating some popcorn. “I liked the black leather. I don’t know why you won’t just wear that one. You look hot in it.”

You slide your hands down the front of the blue, sequence dress you have on. “I just feel like that’s not enough. And isn’t it a little … short for a dress for a nice restaurant?”

Alix shrugs, “I mean, probably but who cares. You look hot.” She sips her wine and says again, “well you look hot in everything.”

You look over at her, “while that’s sweet, he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes and I need a few shots to calm my nerves so help me pick a dress, please.”

She rolls her eyes at my dramatics, downing her wine. “I think you should wear the short black one you wore two weeks ago. Not the leather one, the velvet one. Makes your ass look great. Oh with your Louboutins! You spent a lot of money on them and have worn them once. It’s a sin.”

One thing is for sure, you did spend a lot of money on them, charging them to your dads credit card.

One change and two shots of vodka later, you were walkin down the steps of your condo to an awaiting Steve. He’s in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray jacket. His hair is just as perfect as the last time you saw him. (which was via instagram… gotta do the research right?)

He whistles long and low as you approach, and in a quick stroke of confidence you decide to do a little spin. He claps slowly as you face him and so, you bow. Just slightly so you don’t accidentally flash him. Not the way you want to start this date.

“Well hello to you too, Harrington,” you say as you smirk.

He slips his hand in his pockets, a smirk on his lips that you feel right between your legs. “You look very pretty tonight, sweetheart. I mean you’d look pretty in a potato sac but,” he shrugs. “We should get going.”

You smile and nod at him.

And the bar is clearly in fuckin hell, because him opening the door for you makes you want to jump his bones. But then again, no man has ever opened a door for you so… we can let it slide.

“Such a gentleman.” “Chivalry is not dead sweetheart.”

…

Steve is very thoughtful. Sure, he asked all the usual questions you ask on a first date.

What’s your major?

Do you have any siblings?

What do your parents do for work?

Oh, your dad is in sales? Funny mine too.

He gives you guilt money? Mine too! Look at us

He also, orders you and him a bottle of wine (he has great taste) but lets you order your own meal (again the bar is in fucking hell). The place he takes you to is nice and the food is the best food you’ve had since you left home after summer break.

“So Steve, what made you decide to open up a bar in town?” You eat a spoonful of dessert, eyes never leaving his.

He takes a spoonful of his own dessert. “I was sick of working for everyone else. I knew if I made a unique bar, something you and your friends have never seen, others would want to check it out. Then you’d tell all your friends, who’d tell their friends, etc.” He grins as he talks, keeping eye contact with you.

It felt like a game of ‘who is going to look away first.’ A game you weren’t going to lose. Slowly, you pull the spoon out of your mouth, dipping it back in to your dessert. “Interesting. Great concept if you ask me.”

He huffs a small laugh through his nose, “I’m glad you enjoyed my bar.”

You scrunch your brows, the wine making you bold, “who said I enjoyed it?”

Now he really laughs, “you seemed to really enjoy all those lemon drop martinis. So much so you had a hangover the next day. I tried giving you waters but you threatened to gut me.”

Your jaw hangs open, “fibber.”

“I haven’t been called a fibber since I was a kid,” he smiles. “But yes you did tell me you would gut me. And then you left and I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

You can’t help but feel slightly guilty inside for not calling sooner. Well, you did call sooner but chickened out.

“And here we are.”

“Yes, here we are.”

He seems to think for a moment, sipping his wine (one he ordered that would go well with the dessert. He was right.)

“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you through his lashes, tongue rolling down the inside of his cheek.

He wasn't… demanding. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you could turn him down. That he would take you home with a smile on his face. There would be no fuss, no fight, no name calling. No pressure.

And for that very reason, with a smile on your pretty face you answer him, “yours or mine?”

…

You’re not even through the door of his apartment before his mouth is on yours, his large hands on your face. The kiss starts soft, testing the waters and it isn’t very long before you deepen it. Your tongues dance but there is no fight for dominance, you let him win. You want him to win.

His lips trail over your jaw before slowly moving down your neck, gently nipping at your skin.

“Such a pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

He sucks a bruise into your shoulder, easy to cover up, just in case. You let out a soft moan, hands coming up to tug at his hair.

“You-you’re pretty too.”

You can feel him grin against you, head lifting as his body cages you in, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty. Well besides Eddie but that was mocking.”

You laugh, moving in and kissing him slowly, sweetly, “you are a very pretty boy.”

You can feel his hard dick jerk at the sentiment, and you keep it as a mental note. You know, just in case you need it.

“Fuck, can’t say shit like that.”

“No? Why not?”

“Cause it makes my cock hard. And it’ll be very embarrassing if I cum in my pants. Can't ruin my reputation.” The smirk on his face makes you almost pass out. You swear to God you can feel every word in your core.

“Hmmm, we can’t have that can we?” You push his jacket off his shoulders before running your hands down to the hem of his shirt. “Should take me to bed so we don’t risk you cumin’ early.”

It’s all the permission he needs. His lips are back on yours, his hands under your ass and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands in his hair as he carries you to the bed.

He puts you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. Not for a moment. Not until he pulls away to tug his shirt over his head. You take the moment to take him in, his body lithe and toned. You also can’t help noticing the scars on his side that look a little like bite marks. Bite marks from something that isn’t human, something you make a mental note to ask him about at a later date.

“Sculpted from marble, god damn.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, never wanting to stroke a man's ego.

Steve just grins as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly down, his knuckles slowly touching your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You shiver under the touch and he notices. You’re quickly learning that Steve notices everything.

It isn’t long before he’s pulling the dress down your body, leaving you in only your underwear. Underwear that barely covers you, a wet patch on full display. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed.

“Are you this wet for me?” His tone is mocking and he’s practically cooing at you, “go on. Answer me.”

Your eyes widen. Men have been demanding in the bedroom, plenty of them thinking they’re little tough guys. But none of them get that from you, none of them deserving. You’re not sure why you want to give that to him. You’re not sure what makes him different. And honestly, that is a problem for future you to talk about in therapy.

“Yes,” you reply, voice a little higher than usual. “S’all for you.”

The smirk he gives you makes your heart speed up. “Such a sweet, pretty thing. God, I want to devour you.”

His lips move to your chest, sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. You can’t help but arch into his mouth, a small moan falling from your lips, his hand coming to play with your neglected breast. And it isn’t long before he swaps sides, his teeth nipping and sucking.

“Please. More.”

He laughs, moving to oblige you and kissing down your sternum before settling between your legs. “May I?”

Him asking makes your heart stutter in your chest, “yes. God yes. Please.”

Steve tugs your underwear down your legs, tossing them to meet the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I think I could get used to praying to me.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer before he licks up your cunt, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. The moan that comes out of you is loud and you’re thankful the windows are closed. “Fuck, Steve!”

He pushes a finger inside of you, curling them to reach the spongy spot inside you. “And you moaning my name is even better. Why don’t you do it again, angel”

He pushes another finger inside you, the burn causing you to grip his hair. “Steve please!”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

He moves his fingers faster, continuing to hit your sweet spot over and over again. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, listening to every sweet moan and sigh that comes out of you. He files them away in his brain so he never forgets what drives you crazy.

“Need to… I-I need”

He sucks hard before pulling back, “need what? Go on, use your words.”

You gasp, “to cum. I- please.”

Begging wasn’t what you did for men. If anything, they begged you. Begged you to let them cum.

Steve doesn’t say a word, just grins and uses his free hand to press on your stomach. That is your undoing. “Steve!” You pulse around his fingers, breath getting caught in your chest. You feel warm all over, head emptying as he works you through it.

“That’s it baby. That’s a good girl. Bet that feels so good doesn’t it?”

You try to answer, you really do. But all you can manage is a small nod.

“Gonna let me fuck you?”

Again, you can only manage a nod.

“That’s my girl.”

And before you can even process his words, he flips you over on your stomach, hands pulling your hips in the air. You’re on full display for him. He can see everything. But you couldn't care less, all you want is him inside you.

And you get your wish. He moves slow, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s big and you can feel every inch of him stretching you. It’s a tight fit even with how wet you are.

“Holy shit this pussy is amazing baby. Squeezing me so tight.”

His other hand braces himself by your head before dropping down to his forearms. He’s so close to you now, inside and out, his hips moving slowly so you adjust to him, and his breath fanning across your face.

“F-faster. Faster.” Your hands rake down his back, nails digging into his back, making him hiss.

He snaps his hips faster, grinning down at you. “Just so needy huh?”

You nod feverishly, “yes. F-feels so fucking good.”

He laughs at you now, kisses you. “Such a dirty mouth, baby. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to swear.”

“Says-says you… swear all the time. L-like a sailor.”

He hums. “Dirty mouth for a dirty fuckin girl.”

“That-that’s me.”

He fucks you faster and you feel like coil growing tighter and tighter inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, not wanting him to get too far away. He groans and you can tell he’s close.

“Want… no need you to cum inside me. I’ll d-die if you don’t,” you beg. You know you’ll probably regret it in the morning, all that you’ve said here in this bedroom. But at the moment you can’t find it inside you to care. Mainly because he was taking up every inch of you.

“Yeah? Need it? I’ll give it to you baby. Will give you anything you want.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the edge, walls clenching around him so hard he falls with you. A mutual “fuck!” falls from both your and his lips.

You're both panting as you come down from the high. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. Suddenly Steve is giggling, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“What? Why are you laughing?” you ask with just a little bit of worry.

“I am so fucking glad you ordered a lemon drop martini.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader

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thesherrinfordfacility · 9 months

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it was about the coffee

edit 24/11: rip miracle blocker theory, my love

but possibly not the way we thought it was. this is going to sound so convoluted but bear with me here (and big thanks to the anon that precipitated this theory, and major apologies that writing this theory is only going to delay my answer to your ask even further💕)

a major plot-point for me in s2 was this bad boy:

which i think we can safely say is a very op power for demons to possess for it not to come up again later on in the show? it's almost like a parallel to the book of life on that front - which is mentioned in the bookshop in ep6, but we've all agreed is pretty much going to be a major chekhov's gun in s3, right? well, what about the miracle blocker?

why wouldn't shax think of getting one either from furfur or from beelzebub when storming the bookshop? well, could be that shax didn't think of it. true - but i do wonder if something iffy was in fact going on in ep5/ep6 showdown, right up into the Final Fifteen.

let's start here: aziraphale has got some reality-bending bullshit going on, which i think is possibly just naturally emanating from aziraphale himself (im not wholly convinced it's entirely in-character for him to purposefully fuck with people's heads and autonomy) and perhaps the dancing/outfits/emotions etc is just the image he wanted for the dance, and his magic (?) essentially made it happen, so much so that he was potentially taken in by it too... hence why he was so readily resistant to crowley's pleas to listen to him about the danger? idk, getting sidetracked.

but anyway, then the demons come, and we see the below where... randomly, aziraphale's miracles/magic doesn't work. and there's no given reason for it:

soon after this, aziraphale opens the portal; one thing on reflection? that portal opens damn fucking fast. sure, the peril is high, certainly higher than s1 when he had to pray and practically beg to speak to someone... but if the portal is more or less for metatron's direct use, and the metatron is so damn busy, being the voice of god... why would he be sat there waiting for a call?

s1, the time between aziraphale starting to pray/dial 9-1-heaven, and the portal opening (excluding where he shouts to shadwell that the shop is closed) is just over 31 seconds. s2, from "hello, is there anybody there" to portal opening is just over 5. a very short cut-down for a retired, traitorous angel, regardless of whether they're under attack (which, tbh, would be in heaven's interests, right? for aziraphale to get Got?). the explanation for that can only be, in my book, that metatron has been watching... and possibly has been since the first time the portal opened.

anyway, we then move on to metatron arriving at the bookshop, and offering aziraphale the coffee. others have reported a miracle chime, and tbh i too can hear at least a faint, high strong, that sounds out of place in the ambient sound of the scene. video below, where ive marked out where i can hear it:

we know that aziraphale doesn't drink coffee. tea, hot chocolate, wine... but he's never, as far as we've seen, canonically drunk coffee. he must have tried it at some point, crowley likes it/drinks it, so why wouldn't aziraphale have tried it at some point? well, i think he probably has, and didn't like it. i think he tried to change it, in front of the metatron, so he could take a sip and not be offensive. but... it doesn't work. aziraphale's reaction is awkward. and metatron's reaction is smug. i think metatron has a miracle blocker.

aziraphale is not stupid. i think he knows possibly from that moment, or very soon after, that metatron has been up to something. i think he knows that metatron might have eyes and ears everywhere. i think aziraphale has worked out that metatron is not in fact A Nice Old Man, and knows it right through until he gets in the lift (which im going to talk about more in the aforementioned anon ask). i don't think aziraphale has been overtly threatened, because the metatron has worked so hard in this scene to be non-threatening. but he has underestimated how smart aziraphale actually is.

making the offer to reform heaven appeals to aziraphale, there is no doubt on that. and aziraphale is desperate for crowley to be with him - not only on the layer of wanting to be together, or another layer of crowley deserving to have heaven make amends to him, or even the layer wanting to protect crowley under his status as supreme archangel... but because if aziraphale walks away, without crowley, crowley has nowhere safe to go. the bookshop has been compromised, and it is no longer safe. metatron with his almond syrup has Eyes and Ears everywhere. when crowley refuses, aziraphale has to get to heaven, and to metatron, before they get to him.

i do completely believe that aziraphale wants to help heaven, and possibly seek any way in which he can return it to what he thinks or believes was god's original purpose for it - to return or make it into the place that was always meant to stand for good and justice and love. but i also believe that now, more than ever, aziraphale teeters on the edge of giving heaven a chance - or being burnt to ashes, literally or figuratively. idk about you, but i have a gut feeling on what option he, in this moment, would be inclined to take.

#good omens #metatron spec #s3 narrative spec #sanctuary/bentley theory #feral domestic/final fifteen meta #s2 meta

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somanyratsinthewalls · 8 months

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Kinktober Special Part 1

The Crew's Whore (Part 1)

It's KINKTOBER BABY!!! I'm celebrating early and it's getting weird. Making a multi part series about being the Straw Hat's plaything. If anyone has any suggestions about other chapters, I'm happy to hear them! I'm open to almost anything! Sanji is first, because like? Of course he is.

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great talent. Your years working as a high-end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: SUB Sanji x DOM afab!reader

WC: 3600 lmao

TW: sub and dom situation, she tops him, groping, masturbation, pet names, submissive behavior, kissing, voyeurism, BONDAGE, rope play, BDSM, cropping, riding crop usage, smacking, edging, teasing, submissive sanji :(, vaginal sex, fingering, begging.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 1: The Cook

You had been sailing with the Straw Hat crew for just a week now after agreeing to join their band of pirates. You made an agreement to join them not only to aide in their battles but also to provide your… services. You always had an insatiable sexual appetite, hence becoming such a professional in your line of work. After a week with not a single suitor, you had felt yourself become needy and frustrated. It had been 7 days and not a single member of your newly found crew had come to seek you out for some relief. Not even Sanji…

You were so sure he was going to be rapping at your door the first night you spent aboard the Sunny. When you agreed to join the crew and allow your body to be used by any of them at any time, Sanji’s nose sprung a leak so strong that he had to be carried back to his room partially conscious.

So when a week had passed and he hadn’t made you a proposal, you were concerned. He had barely even fawned over Robin or Nami either, actually… He seemed off. You started to watch him closer throughout the day. He was constantly running back and forth between dishes, preparing meals, setting tables, and taking inventory of the pantry, he just looked so spread thin, not like the charismatic love drunk cook you had gotten to know. You realized that had he not been so busy, of course he would have made a pass at you, he just needed to relax and frankly, so did you.

The hour grew late and you knew while most of your shipmates would be in bed, Sanji would be in the galley finishing up the dishes from dinner. You finish the glass of white wine you were enjoying on the deck and walk into the kitchen.

“Y/n my darling,” Sanji sighed out tiredly as he saw it was you who entered the galley. “Do you need more wine? I can open another bottle if you just give me a moment I have-“ He looked for a towel to wipe his hands dry of the dish water.

“Sanji thanks but no, it’s fine. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m a big girl, I can get it myself. I don’t want to make more work for you.”

“If it’s for you, my love, it’s never work.”

You chuckled and winked at him as you headed towards the wine pantry. You perused the shelves for a bit before grabbing a bottle off the rack and walked back out to the kitchen where Sanji had returned to washing dishes. You noticed his broad shoulders tensing under his dress shirt as he continued to clean. He really was pretty. You walked towards him. “You still keep that wine key in your pants pocket, Sanji?” You ask him, a sultry low tone in your voice.

“Oh, um, yeah, I’ll grab it hold on-“ Sanji stutters out as he removes his hands from the sink.

“No need.” You came up behind him and snaked your hand into the front pocket of his dress slacks. In doing this you pressed your breasts against his back. You fished around in his pocket as you brought your other hand to grab his hip. You felt the wine key immediately but you moved your hand past it, feeling around pretending to still look for it. You moved you hand over inside his pocket and softly placed it over his cock and you felt it twitch in his briefs through the thin fabric of the pocket.

“Y/n!” Sanji was turning bright red and a single drop of blood spilled from his nose.

“Is that a bottle opener in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” You smiled wickedly up at him peeking around his shoulder. You softly squeezed his hardening dick. Sanji had gone into shock, your hand was feeling him up through his pants and he could barely think anymore.

You continued, “Sanji you do so much for us. You work so hard every day to keep us fed and safe. You make so many hard choices and spend all day taking care of everyone except for yourself. Don’t you think you deserve a break? A break from everything? A time for you just to let your mind go completely blank?”

You purred into his ear as you continued to very slightly stroke him and squeeze him through his pants pocket. Sanji was breathing heavily and couldn’t get out any words, his mind short circuiting.

“You don't have to answer right this second, but if you’ll let me help you, come to my room in an hour.” You pulled your hand back out of his pocket and brought the wine key with you on your way out. You give him a seductive eyebrow raise before you left the kitchen and brought your wine bottle with the newly acquired opener down to your room.

You stripped your clothes off upon entering your room and started opening up the wine bottle. You took a swig straight from the perfectly chilled bottle and giggled to yourself. This would be fun. You knew he would show up, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind he could resist you after the little show you put on in the kitchen. You head over to your walk in closet and grabbed a black silk robe with lace dripped off the sleeves and slipped it on. You walked even further into your closet into your favorite section. All of your favorite toys and naughty items were hung neatly on the walls and packed into shelves. You smiled, finally getting back to your old self again. You wanted to give Sanji the night of his life, especially after how well he takes care of you and the rest of the crew.

You ghost your hands over various bondage items before grabbed old reliable, some simple red rope. You decided to get your softest crop, knowing that Sanji probably wasn’t used to this type of sexual encounter. You didn’t want to really hurt him… not tonight at least.

You laid both items out on your bed and you sat down against the cushions and settled in with your bottle of wine. You couldn’t help but feel warm all over, electric with the excitement of taking a new lover. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together, your cunt starting to get wet.

*knock knock*

“Come in.” You shout as you get off the bed and walk towards the door. Sanji opens it and shyly steps inside.

“Y/n… I.. don’t know what to say… I just… I guess… I need it.” Sanji stumbled horribly over his words, eyes glued to where your robe dipped low into your cleavage.

“Need what, Sanji?” You needed to hear him say it.

“I need your help, Y/n. I had all these grand plans to impress you and make our first time together perfect and romantic but I just… I’ve been so exhausted… I’m so burnt out…” He sighed out, clearly so stressed.

“I know you are… That’s why I’m going to help you relax. You don’t have to think about a thing… Or lift a single finger… Do you trust me, Sanji?” You approach him and start wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your face close to nuzzle his nose with yours. “Let me relieve your stress tonight.”

He answers you with a passionate kiss grabbing the sides of your face with both hands. He continues to kiss you with fervor as he pushes you back towards the bed. He pulls away, there’s so much lust in his eyes, but you can tell he’s exhausted.

“Yes, I want that. Please." He pleaded for you.

You smiled at him. This was going to be fun.

“Ok. Strip, then. Completely naked on the bed. Spread eagle. Quickly.” Your voice turned commanding as soon as you heard his consent. He stared at you for a moment dumbfounded before he started loosening his tie and stripping off his clothes. Once his dress socks were off he practically jumped onto your bed. His cock was already standing at attention from your teasing earlier in the galley.

*pretty…* you thought.

You grabbed your rope from the corner of the bed and started tying each of his limbs to your bedframe. It wasn’t tight, or stretching him at all, he had plenty of slack rope for movement, but he certainly wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now sweet boy… You’re going to do everything I say… no matter what… Understand? And if you need a break, you say “strawberry”. Got it?” You ask him as you tighten each knot. Sanji nods excitedly.

“No no,” You smack his naked thigh with 2 fingers. He winced. “You tell me out loud.”

“Yes, y/n. I understand. I will do anything you say.”

“Hm… Good.” You smirk to yourself as you bring an armchair to sit directly in front of the bed in Sanji’s line of sight. His chest was heaving, he was feeling so many things. Excitement. Nervousness. Everything. His cock was already stating to leak and you had done nothing more than tie him to the bed. You met his gaze. You slipped your robe to the floor revealing your full naked body to him without breaking eye contact. He falters and drops his eyes to your gorgeous, bare body. His mouth drops open.

You grab his suit jacket off the floor and reach into the inner pocket grabbing his smokes and his lighter before dropping the jacket back down. You saunter slowly over to the chair and sit down, crossing your legs and leaning back. You slide a cigarette out of the pack and light it.

“Ohhhh Black-leg…” Your blow out with a puff of smoke. “Look at you now… So sweet and willing… Can you imagine if people saw you like this?” You smiled as you took another drag. “Even that swordsman?”

“Have you had him?” Sanji was burst out of his lust filled haze at the mention of his rival.

You laughed “Oh sweetheart no. He’s so clueless, I don’t even think he knows what I’m here for. I haven’t had anyone on the crew yet. You’re going to be my first.”

You blow out a cloud of smoke as you lean back further and spread your legs for him. Sanji could see the glistening slick on the lips of your perfect cunt. You take a last drag of the cigarette and snuffed it out in the ashtray on your side table. You continue,

“And they say you always remember your first…” Sanji audibly whimpers at your words. His cock was leaking precum down his veiny shaft. He tugged lightly at his restraints, thinking maybe he could get free and grab you. He couldn’t. You were a professional, after all.

You grab your breasts and begin to toy with your nipples, breathing out an airy sigh. After kneading and playing with your tits for awhile, you snake your left hand down your body. You use your pointer and middle finger to spread your pussy wide open for Sanji to see your swollen clit and leaking hole.

Sanji lurches his body forward instinctively, desperately trying to get closer to your dripping cunt that was putting on a show for him. He groans loudly.

“Please, Y/n… Let me touch you please… I can make you feel good I promise!”

You tut at him while bringing your right hand down to your pussy and using 3 fingers to slowly rub your clit, “no no sweet boy, you do so much already. You need to rest.” Your smile was evil.

Soft little sighs leave your mouth as you pleasure yourself. Sanji’s chest was heaving dramatically as he watched you, no more words leaving his mouth, only heavy breaths. You bring down your fingers and push them inside of yourself, moaning and throwing your head back in the process. You immediately pushed them up towards your spot and rubbed it forcefully. Your pussy was so slick that the heel of your palm slipped effortlessly across your clit as you pumped your fingers inside of yourself. The pressure in your lower belly starting building as you moaned louder.

You pick your head up and look at the gorgeous blonde submissive in front of you. God, you missed this. Fully bringing a man to his sexual limits. He looked so sad but so turned on, beads of sweat running down his forehead. You continued fucking yourself to orgasm as his eyes were locked onto your stuffed cunt.

“Do you wanna watch me cum, sweet boy? Would that make you happy?” You breathed out at him as you brought yourself right to the edge of climax.

“GOD FUCK yes, please God yes y/n please I want to see it so badly! You’re so beautiful!” Sanji was so desperate he was shouting as you. His cock twitched painfully against his belly, leaking precum onto his abs. The sight allowed you to shudder forward into a powerful orgasm. “Fuck!” You shriek out as you squirt out warm liquid over your hand. You shake and spasm as your orgasm finished wreaking havoc on your body.

You pull out your fingers and sit up in your chair as you regain strength. You rise up and walk towards Sanji’s head laying on one of your pillows. “Open.”

He turns towards you to meet your eyes, he obliges. You shove your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. He immediately wraps his tongue around your fingers, trying desperately to taste the flavors of your delicious cunt. His eyes roll back in his head, he closes his mouth around your fingers and sucks them needing to get every last drop down his throat.

“Oh what a good boy you are, taking your reward so well!” You praise him as he sucks your fingers. He lets out a massive groan around your hand and his body lurches forward. You turn your head to look down his body.

He had just cum. From sucking on your fingers. There was a massive trail of semen across his abdomen. You gasp. You reach to your left and grab the smooth riding crop laying on the bed. A disastrous smile spreads across your face.

“You! little! slut!” You smack his left thigh with your crop. Sanji winces and gasps. “Look at you! I didn’t know you were such a desperate little thing!” You punctuate your teasing with more slaps to his thighs and chest as you circle the bed, like a hyena stalking its prey.

“Just… Just for you… my love… Please…” Sanji was breathing so hard, after cumming untouched he still felt unsatisfied. The leather cracking on his thighs was providing him the perfect amount of pain for his dick to perk up again. He needed your body on him now…. Your mouth, your hands, your pussy ANYTHING, he needed more.

“Please what, greedy boy? It seems you’ve already gotten a reward. What else could you possibly need, hmm?” You giggled wickedly as you give him more light smacks with your crop.

“Please fuck me y/n! Please fuck me! Anything you want, just please touch me!” Sanji shouts at you. He tugs violently at his restraints, needing to grab your body and ravish it like you deserve.

“shhhh.. relax honey.. you’ve done so good.. I’ll help you now… just relax, okay?” You kiss his forehead before dropping your crop and hopping up to straddle him on the bed. You begin kissing his neck and sucking dark red hickeys onto it so that he could prove to his rival that he was the one to take you first. You knew he’d love that. Sanji moans out under your deep kisses on his collar bone. He jerks his hips upwards towards your core, trying to feel some wetness or pressure on his hard cock.

You reach down and line his leaking dick up with your entrance. It was so velvety and thick, you swipe it through your wetness a few times, gasping at the feeling of it’s mushroom tip pressing on your clit.

“Goooood baby boy, so good.” You coo to him as you sink down on his length. Your dominant persona faltered for only a brief moment as he stretched your hole so deliciously.

“Fuck…” You gasped out.

“Miss y/n please… I need more… please… want you to fuck me so bad, need to feel you so bad…” Sanji was nearly crying as he tried to lift his hips off the bed to drill into you, but wasn’t able to due to his restraints.

“Oh don’t worry my sweet boy, once I get off from your big cock I’ll let you fill me up so good okay? You just have to wait until I’m finished, you can do that for me, right baby?”

“YES yes please I want to fill you! Yes, I’ll do anything!”

You smile at him and hold the side of his face in your hands. You start to grind yourself onto his fat cock, bringing yourself towards another orgasm. You pushed your thumb into his mouth, Sanji immediately wrapped his lips around it and sucked at it desperately. Continuing to ride Sanji, you leaned back so that you could rub your clit as his member rubbed back and forth against that perfect spot inside of you. Your moans became louder and louder as you used his gorgeous body for your own pleasure.

He released your thumb with a wet pop. “My l-love… it’s too much… you’re too tight and wet, I’m going to-“

You stopped moving and leaned forward to wrap your hand gently around his throat. Your fingers were wet on his skin from rubbing your clit.

“No. No you’re not. You haven’t asked and I haven’t given you permission. I am not finished. You haven’t earned your reward.”

Sanji gulped loudly and nodded his head. “O-of course love, I-I only want your pleasure.”

“Good.” You smiled down at him as you resumed your actions to bring yourself to climax. It was only a few more moments before you found yourself being close to that edge again. You grinded your pelvis so deeply into his, burying his cock into you and rubbing your clit against the skin at his base.

“YES, fuck!” You threw your head back as your cunt came all over Sanji’s cock. Squeezing and creaming all over his shaft, Sanji was in sensory overload.

“Please miss! I need to-! Fuck! Now, please!” Sanji pleaded with you.

Your voice came out hoarse and tired, still wrecked from your powerful orgasm. “Yes sweet boy, fill me up all the way baby. You’ve been so good honey, cum inside of me.” You softly breath out to him as you try to come down. You feel a hard thrust from below and Sanji screams out,

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” A tear spills past his lash line as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. Feeling the stress and pressure of his day leave his body, he shudders.

You feel the final pulses of his orgasm fade out and you move yourself gently off of his softening cock. You begin untying the rope knots around his limbs as he tries to collect himself, brain broken from cumming so hard. You finish untying him and you run your hand over the marks left by your riding crop. You hobble over to your side table and pour out a glass of water. You bring the blanket at the foot of the bed and spread it out over Sanji’s sweaty body, tucking it in at the sides.

“hey.. sit up baby. Have a little water before you sleep, okay?” You coo in his ear softly as you stroke his hair. Sanji sits up on his elbows weakly and grabs the glass you offered him. He gulps down the water and hands it back to you. You place the glass on the side table and curl up by his side in bed.

“So… How are you feeling?” You asked him, eager to provide him of any aftercare he needed.

“Y/n I… It was perfect…” He turns to look at you in the eyes. “It was more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I feel so much better, like a weight is lifted off my chest. Thank you, y/n.” Sanji leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips.

“Good. I like when you’re happy. Foods better.” You smiled at him. He laughed.

As you fell asleep in his arms he couldn’t help but to grin and think to himself,

“Wait until fucking moss head finds out I was first…”

#one piece smut #one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #zoro x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #sanji smut #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji

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angelsnkisses · 11 months

Note

Hi, can you write a one shot inspired to this tiktok? https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLP3jkQy/

Apologies ♡ - Spencer Reid x fem!reader

‼️ NSFW - MDNI ‼️

A/N: hello, anon! thanks for the request, i actually really liked writing this :). it's pretty long so enjoyy <3!

Summary: You get into a fight with Spencer, and he decides to make it up to you. <3

warnings: slight angst, drinking/intoxication, dom!spencer, sub!fem!reader, brief choking, fingering.

You and Spencer had lived together for a few weeks now, and it was bliss so far. The only downside was how often he was gone, constantly working with his team to solve crimes and catch what he calls 'unsubs,' which was all pretty new to you. None of your other partners had ever had such a serious job, but then again, all your exes were total losers.

You loved Spencer, he was so good to you. You had been together for about a year, and he finally convinced you to move into his place with him. He said he felt better knowing you were safe with him. It was honestly cute. Despite all that, you often missed him. He was always out of state, or at the office working on god knows what.

That's how you ended up alone on a Friday night, half a bottle of wine in your belly and the music up loud. You were dancing around carelessly, trying to ignore your thoughts. Spencer had to work late, again. You felt more alone than you cared to admit to him, but you decided it didn't matter much.

Moving around helped, something to get your blood pumping for some kind of excitement, hence the solo dance party. You weren't drunk, but you definitely weren't sober. Your blood felt warm, making you all fuzzy inside.

You were so caught up in your dancing that you didn't even notice how late it was. When you caught a glimpse of the clock, you slowed to a stop. It was one in the morning, and of course, Spencer wasn't home. You groaned, turning off the music.

Maybe it was because you were a little tipsy, but you were pissed. Before you knew it your phone was in your hand, ringing and ringing as you pressed it to your ear.

"Hello?" Spencer picked up, almost immediately.

You paused, not really sure what you wanted to say. You were mad, you wanted to say something.. you probably should of thought about what exactly that was before calling.

"Y/N? Hello? Are you okay?" his voice came through again, and you remembered you had to actually speak.

"You're late," you stated, leaning against the dining room table.

"Yeah, we're working on a pretty big case right now," he replied.

" Yes, I know that, because you've been working late all month, Spencer. You come home when I'm already asleep and then leave before I wake up. I miss you," you grumble, hearing a heavy sigh on the other end. You felt a small pang in your chest at the sound. It wasn't like you to be so confrontational, and you understood he was busy.. you were just too heated to shut yourself up now.

"I know, baby. I'm just busy, it's not personal," he assured you apologetically.

"It's not personal? That doesn't matter, Spencer. What matters is I am lonely, and horny. That doesn't bother you?" you stumble over your words a little, a lot more blunt than normal. Maybe you were drunk.

There was a long, agonizing pause before his voice came through the speaker once more.

"Y/N, have you been drinking?"

You don't say anything, just gritting your teeth and releasing a frustrated groan before hanging up and slamming your phone down on the table. What an asshole, you open up and all he's curious about is your state of sobriety? Fuck that.

You were too angry when you drank, you needed to sleep it off. You picked your phone back up, ignoring Spencer's texts and walking towards your room. You flopped onto the bed, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

"Y/N? Baby, wake up," a voice broke your sleep, familiar and quiet. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling a hand rubbing up and down your back. You lifted yourself up a little, looking up at whoever was disturbing your rest.

"Oh, it's you.." you mumbled, laying back down and turning away from him. You heard him sigh, the bed dipping behind you as he sat on the edge. He leaned over, laying a hand on your arm as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, angel," he whispered, guilt leaking into his tone. You felt your stomach turn, feeling like a total bitch now that you were pretty much sobered up. Drunk you was such a menace, you were embarrassed. Still, he was never home. You were somewhat in the right.

"It's fine, Spence," you said shortly, your voice flat. He gently moved your hair from your neck, moving his kisses up.

"No, it's not," he disagreed against your skin, "You're right, you shouldn't have to feel so lonely all the time, I'm sorry."

You felt a smile twitch at your lips when he apologized, unable to stay mad. He sounded so genuine.

"Let me make it up to you.." he suddenly said, a seductive hint in his voice as he moved his hand down. You shuddered slightly, instinctively moving up into his hand. You almost turned him down, not wanting him to feel like he had to.. but fuck, you needed him. It had been too long.

"Okay," you whispered, thankful you were facing away so he couldn't see your cheeks were flushed and red at his words. You felt him smile against your skin, beginning to pull you closer.

He moved quickly, sitting up on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He opened his arms for you, watching you move closer. You were about to straddle him, when he interrupted you.

"Ah, not like that, sweetheart. Face away from me," he corrected. You raised a brow, but still did it, pressing your back to his chest as you sat between his legs. You felt more exposed feeling his fully clothed body against yours, only wearing underwear and one of his sleep shirts.

"So sexy.." he muttered against your neck, his hands slipping under the shirt as he nipped at your skin. You sighed heavily, your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back on his shoulder.

"Good girl, just relax.. I'm gonna take care of you," he promised, sending a shiver up your spine. You felt his wandering hands moved down to your legs, one of them grabbing hold of a thigh. He forced your legs open, his free hand moving between them to start touching you.

He gently pressed the pad of his index finger to your clothed clit, earning a sharp gasp from you. He rubbed over you halfheartedly, the tiny bit of pleasure setting your nerves on fire.

"Fuck, please don't tease me," you whimpered, hearing him chuckle darkly in your ear. He shook his head, long hair tickling your cheek.

"You're not in charge here, baby. Be patient," he cooed, making you whine and squirm. He just tutted. "So needy."

He eventually slipped his hand into your underwear, groaning quietly when he felt how wet you were. You could feel his hardened bulge against your back, your heart pounding as he worked. He shimmied your underwear down, and you helped him pull them off your legs eagerly before leaning back into him.

You shuddered when you felt a finger go back down there, circling your clit slowly. Even that was enough to make you moan softly, so touched deprived and desperate. He relished in your noises, the sound music to his ears. The hand on your thigh grew tighter when you squirmed around, looking down at what he was doing.

You winced when his finger moved down, his fingertip dipping inside before disappearing, his action repeating a few times. You breathed a shaky whine again, sounding more desperate by the second.

He finally eased his whole middle finger in, your head falling back as you gripped onto his upper arm. Sure, it was just his finger, but it had been at least two weeks now, and you were all kinds of sensitive. He began pumping it in and out of you at a leisurely pace, ignoring your inability to handle such a simple action.

"W-wait, wait stop," you whimpered when he sped up, already overwhelmed with the feeling. He hummed against your neck, not halting his movements. Instead, he curled his finger up, earning a pleasured cry from you. You trembled, warm delight filling your veins as your body convinced you to adapt. The pleasure wasn't too much anymore, you wanted more of it.

"Hm? You want me to stop?" he repeated, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh. You breathed a heavy sigh, shaking your head timidly, and he chuckled at your indecisiveness.

He kissed your cheek sweetly, pulling his middle finger out and rubbing over your clit again. "Good girl, you're being so sweet for me," he praised, making your face heat up and your eyes flutter shut. You were never all that subby, but holy shit, he was doing a number on you.

"Think you can take another finger?" he asked, the lewd question slipping from his lips as if it was nothing. You whined, turning your head to hide your face in his neck, embarrassed. He shook his head, the hand on your thigh snaking up to your throat as he forced you to look down at his hand.

"Answer me, do you?" he repeated, more stern now. You gasped softly, finally nodding. "Yes! Yes, please just do it," you begged, much to his enjoyment. He squeezed your throat just barely, his index finger joining his middle as he pushed back into you.

The stretch made you wriggle in his grasp a bit, the dull, sharp sting less than comfortable for you. He was trying to go slow for you, but he was eager to see you fall apart under his touch. He started pumping his fingers at a snails pace, paying close attention to your reactions as he did.

As soon as he could see you were ready, he sped up, feeling proud of himself when you moaned loudly at the sensation. Pleasure was coursing through your body, your legs instinctively closing when it became too much. He removed his hand from your neck, clearly unable to release your thigh for even a little bit.

"Stay still. That's your last warning," he hissed in your ear, making a tremble run through you. You whimpered, clutching his arm for dear life and trying to do as he said.

His hold on your thigh wasn't as harsh as before, but it wasn't gentle, either. You breathed heavily, a burning tightness building up in your abdomen. You dug your fingers into his covered bicep, fighting to keep your legs open. "Fuck, Spencer," you moaned warningly, trying to signal you were close. He got the memo, his thumb pressing to your clit and circling firmly with his pumps.

That was enough to push you over the edge, a strangled cry leaving your lips as you felt your orgasm washing over you. You couldn't stop your legs from closing around his hand, stopping him from overstimulating you as you rode out your high.

Then you remembered his warning.

"Wait, wait I'm sorry-" you started to plead, heart pounding. Before you could say more, he grabbed you roughly, flipping you around and pinning you to the bes. He crawled over you, leaning down to soeak darkly in your ear.

"You should not have done that.."

A/N: well this was an adventure, i've never written anything based of a tiktok before, but i loved the challenge :). thank you to whoever requested, hope you enjoyed <3!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #mdni #angelsnkisses #criminal minds #bau team

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eveningepiphany · 9 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #hslot #love on tour #i just love finalshowrry #love u too #hopefully part four doesn’t take me also two weeks to write HAHA

514 notes · View notes

arcanealora · 3 months

Text

OBSESSED

pairing : Taehyung x female reader

genre : smut, dark romance (?), stalker au

rating : 18+

warnings : explicit language, stalking, hidden cameras, self pleasurings, rough making out, smut smut smut!, dom! Tae, sub! reader, unprotected sex (this is fiction don't take any risks!), little dirty talks, fingering, over stimulation, countless orgasms, champagne confetti (squirting lol), d!ck riding, rough sex (because Taehyung goes out of control), Taehyung is your enemy (atleast he pretends to be).

"FUCK YOU!" you yell at the top of your lungs, fuming with rage. Taehyung grabs your arm and pulls you in a corner of the club, "Your house or mine?" the smug attitude not leaving his face while he leans in to whisper these words in your ears. You push him away and let out a scoff, "Go fuck the girls you were dancing with earlier." you look away not letting him guess the jealousy on your face. "Why are you behaving like you are my girlfriend?" Taehyung asks making you look at him. "Eww I would rather die than be your girlfriend," you make a disgusted face making him scoff. "Feelings are mutual," he speaks before leaving you alone at that corner and goes for a drink.

You and Taehyung met a year ago in this same club through mutual friends and the first meet itself was a disaster. You have punched his face thinking that he stalked you to the club and in return he threw a glass of wine on your brand new dress, you both have never been on good terms since then. Your close friend Jimin, who is also his best friend, always tried to spark a friendship between you two but it always ended in something worse.

Lately, he has been acting very differently. He flirts, acts weird when you get close with someone and you have a feeling that he stalks you everytime you leave the club. Last week, you threw a house warming party and also invited him as you decided to end the beef but somehow things didn't end well because he introduced himself as your boyfriend to your parents when you had already told them you are single. Not that you parents have any problem with you having a boyfriend, you are an adult and mature enough, but they thought you lied to them. Hence, you and Taehyung got into a heated argument when he confessed that he just wanted to take the revenge of that punch you gave him a year ago like he already didn't mess with you enough.

And now you are confused as hell with all his behaviours, sometimes he acts like a jerk and sometimes he behaves like he owns you. You hate to admit but you have a soft corner for him, he is totally your type.

You hang your purse on your shoulder and walk towards the exit until he stops you, "What now?" Instead of talking, he comes closer to you and stroke your cheeks lightly with his long fingers. "Are you this drunk to act so soft with me now?" you snort. "beautiful," he breaths, "you look beautiful." There he goes again. "Hey, are you really drunk?" you furrow your eyebrows.

He chuckles softly and stops stroking your cheeks. "Don't you....," he brings his fingers to your lips, lightly brushing his thumb against your lower lip, "don't you love how my fingers touch you?"

Your eyes widen for a moment, you take a deep breath to calm the sudden acceleartion in your heart beats before speaking, "you confuse me Taehyung."

"Do I?"

you nod lightly.

"I am sorry," his voice seems soft and gentle unlike how it normally sounds, he removes his hand from your face and leans back to the wall.

you sigh and look at your watch, "I am leaving now it's late, have fun but don't drink too much."

He instantly grabs your hand and pulls you closer, "Fun? I swear I wasn't trying to get close with any girl, I was just vibing at the song and they joined in. That's it. Infact when they started getting closer to me I backed off, you can ask Jimin and you know he doesn't lie."

You listen him but your mind gets dizzy by the closeness and the way he is holding you.

"I... I really don't care even if you got close with them, you don't need to explain me." you remove his hand from yours and step a little back from the closeness.

"yeah right, why would you care," he looked down for a second and then back into your eyes, "by the way, I am not drunk.... I just had a glass of wine so don't think I am making you confuse because I am drunk."

"So why are you actually confusing me?"

"I think you should leave."

"Fuck you!"

"Aren't you too eager to fuck me?" he chuckles making you frown.

"In your dreams." you roll your eyes.

"We already did" he smirks

"what?"

"in my dreams.."

"what in your dreams?"

"You were leaving right? Bye." he speaks before leaving you dumbfounded again.

"Fuck you Kim Taehyung." you mutter under your breath and leave the club.

⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕

Taehyung leaves the club soon after you, you were right... he stalks you everytime you leave the club but not today, he didn't.

He was so heated up from the earlier interactions you both had, the way your body almost pressed against his when he pulled you towards himself.... you would never know how crazy you make him just by looking into his eyes that he wants to pin you against some wall and make out roughly with you.

Well, he has some great self control or else the way you affect him, he just wants to fuck you senselessly..... everytime you were close to him, everytime you accidently touched him.... he has always went hard. And now after the club incident and the way you reacted when he touched your lips lightly, made him hard. He drives to his home and as soon as he enters his room, closing the door behind, he takes out his laptop and open some secret app. He types the long password and a blank buffering screen appears which suddenly opens the view of your room.

Yes, he did install hidden cameras in your room when you invited him for the house warming party and you never knew when he sneaked into your room. At first, he felt a little guilty so he never really tried to see anything even though he wanted to. It's been a week and he had hardly seen anything other than one time when you made him hard by sitting on his lap accidently and he couldn't control himself but that time he shut the video soon as you stripped in your room. He almost stopped breathing then, seeing you completely naked on his laptop's screen.

This time, his mind is filled with all the nasty thoughts. He is hard, he could watch porn but just seeing your naked body would make him release better than those porns.

He fidgets his fingers and tap his feet in anticipation, he sits straight when he hears the door opening sound of your room. You enter your room, closing the door behind and throw your purse on the floor, making him chuckle a little. You take off your heels and throw them aside too. You jump sit on the bed, crossing your legs and take your phone in hand. He frowns seeing you not strip out of the party dress already but little does he know that something else is waiting for him.

You scroll your phone screen but your mind still at the club interaction with Taehyung, you let out a sigh and search for his ig account. You got it quick as he was in your mutuals and his account wasn't private as well. Taehyung really didn't get any idea that you are stalking his account because he couldn't see what's on your phone screen. You keep scrolling until you reach to a video clip where he is playing piano :

youtube

you open this video and lean back on the head board of your bed, you smile a little at his dramatic reactions at first. Meanwhile, Taehyung in his room taps his feet faster, fidgeting his fingers on the table while he keeps his eyes fixed on you through the screen.

As the video goes on, his expressions and the way his fingers moves hits you a little differently.... your cheeks turns red suddenly. "Don't you love how my fingers touch you?" his words voices in your mind again and again as you see how his fingers work on the piano.. your breath gets a little heavy and you straighten up your legs... his expressions and his long fingers, the way it's working on the piano, makes your mind filled with dirty thoughts.

The video clip ends but you watch it again and again and everytime your breaths gets even heavier.... as you continue watching the video again, your hand slowly travells to your thigh.... you rub your thighs a little which makes Taehyung raise his eyebrow.

You spread your legs a little and your hand goes upward on your thigh... stroking it gently, you pull up the hem of your short dress revealing your bare thighs and your little shorts which you wore for safety reasons.

The next thing Taehyung saw was you pulling down your shorts and throwing it aside, now only in your panty. His breaths turns sharp and heavy... even with the panty on, you still managed to get him harder.

Your hand rest on your inner thigh as you continue watching the video, slowly it goes upward and now your fingers are pressed on your clothed clit. Taehyung gasps realising what exactly you are doing.

"Holy fuck," he mutters under his breath.

He leans closer to the screen, you start drawing circles on your clothed clit lightly.... his hands veins popping up by how tightly he was gripping the table as he was trying hard not to touch his hardened cock.

You start rubbing your clit hardly but your panty was still on, You paused the video and now spreaded your legs wide open, leaning back properly on the headboard as you rubbed your clit a little fast before entering a finger inside your pussy from the side of your panty.

"Take out that danm cloth y/n!" he slams the table a little hardly. His cock hardened and erect.

"Oh shittt," you whimper as you insert another finger. Taehyung's fists clench tightly, veins popping out hard and his breaths get heavy.... his cock was now painfully hard.

"Oh my god... mhmmmm..., " you moan when you bring your other hand to rub your clit.

You pause for a moment, breathing heavily... it seemed like you are trying hard but not able to get your orgasm.

Taehyung keeps looking at the screen, his eyes were filled with lust and desires, not moving away from the screen even for a second.

"cum. shit. make yourself cum," he breathed, "I wanna see that pretty reaction on your face when you cum, show me."

You resume the video clip of him and finger yourself while watching it, your eyes fixed on every move of his fingers in the video and the way he is giving those horny reactions. You move your fingers faster but still far from your orgasm.

Taehyung's eyes fixed on your fingers and your clothed clit which was slightly visible now, his mouth open a little. He was waiting not so patiently to see you cum.

"Oh my god Taehyung, fuckkkk!!!" you moaned loudly closing your eyes and fucking yourself even faster which made Taehyung widen his eyes, mouth hung open and mind blank for a moment. He gulped hard, his adam's apple bobbing, as his throat went dry. His grip on the table tightened even more.

"Repeat." he muttered under his breath almost loosing all his patience to hear you moaning his name once again to make sure he heard correct.

"T-Taehyung.... fuckkkkk, oh god.... his fingers, I need it. Fuckkk" you whine, closing your eyes tightly, completely frustrated on not being able to relax yourself with the orgasm you need.

"FUCK!" he cursed the moment he heard his name again, he stood up with a jerk making his chair fall behind and rushed out with his car keys. His breaths were hitched, heart pounding in his chest and his cock standing erect, he didn't touch it even once to calm himself down. Now, he just wants to fuck you senselessly and then will his hard cock relax. He wants only your pussy around his cock, he didn't care how painfully hard he was... he will release only inside you and he didn't think twice.

He was driving his car in insane speed, almost getting into an accident... his hands gripping the steering wheel. Frustration crazying him as he was not able to increase the speed anymore, as if it was even possible.

He stops his car by pressing the breaks harshly when he reached your house, almost crashing to the parked car outside of your house.

He quickly gets out of the car and run to ring the doorbell, you flinch hearing the doorbell at this time. It was unusual for you. You get off the bed and set your dress properly. By the time you reached the main door of your house, he had almost broke it by banging the door continuously.

You open the door revealing a heavily panting Taehyung, sweats dripping from his forehead. Your eyes widened.

"You? what-"

Before you could even complete your question he came inside and grabbed your waist pulling you into a rough kiss. You gasped, shocked and confused. He closes the door behind and turns you around, pressing you against the wall as he kisses you deeply. Your mind was completely blank but you felt melting in his kiss. You kissed him back, giving in, his lips moved against yours harshly... he bit your lower lip making you gasp lightly and entered his tongue in your mouth. His tongue rubbed your lips and then explored every corner of your mouth. The sound of your sloppy and rough kiss was clearly heard.... he was literally devouring your mouth.

You were completely breathless, in need of oxygen but he was not in a mood to leave your mouth so soon. You patted his shoulder asking him to let you breath. He sucked and bit your lips before pulling away from the kiss. You were now more surprised by how roughly he was kissing you even though when he was literally panting when he came here and now you are the one completely breathless. You panted heavily holing his shoulders and he let you calm a little before speaking,

"Now take off that little panty of yours and let me help you with what you were trying for, so hardly." he whispered leaning forward towards your ear, his words came like he is ordering you and you have no other option. You gasped at his words.

"What?" your eyes still widen from shock.

"Don't you need my fingers? You just begged for it baby and seems like your prayers has been heard" he smirks darkly.

You were not able to figure out how does he know and your words were completely stuck in your throat.

"H-how?" you stuttered not able to speak anything more.

The dark smirk was still playing on his lips as he spoke, "Only if I knew you were this needy for me, I wouldn't think twice before fucking you instead of watching you live from the hidden cameras."

Your eyes widen even more and mouth slightly open.

"Hidden what?"

"So you were serious everytime you said 'Fuck you' to me huh? What a bad girl you are, fucking yourself while imagining my fingers on you. What else do you imagine about me baby?"

your cheeks were red from embarrassment and you didn't look into his eyes so he held your chin and made you look up.

"Won't you take me to your room? I promise I will pleasure you better than you imagine... you don't need any video of mine when I am here to fuck you better than you want," he lifts you up in his arms and walks towards your room, "I will make sure to give you as many orgasms as you want."

As soon as he enters your room with you in his arms, he sits down on the bed and places you on his lap before kissing your neck.

"Strip and lay down on the bed, now." his voice completely demanding. You gulp a little as you get off from his lap and stand infront of him.

"Don't make me wait anymore, you have already made me enough impatient," he spoke indicating towards his visible bulge which made your mouth slightly open again. He chuckled at your reaction.

"Now strip but leave that panty of yours on your body," he orders and you follow his words without thinking anymore.

You take off your dress and your bra, leaving yourself only in the panty and lay down on the bed. You fidget your fingers in the nervousness, taking deep breaths.

He sits infront of your legs and spread them wide... He sucked in a deep breath when he saw the wet patches on your panty which you got earlier from rubbing your clit.

He wanted to destroy that little pussy of yours but also wanted to give you the best pleasures so he decided to take things in order. His hand strked your thighs gently and without wasting anymore time he reached your inner thighs, rubbing them with his fingers. You gasped and gasped with every touch of his.

He tried his best to control himself but the tention inside was more than enough to make him loose his mind, he took of your panty and threw it aside, you heard a gasp from him.

"Holy fuck! you are dripping from wetness.," his mouth watering at the sight infront of him, "all this for me?" he asked, his hands were very near to you heat. You nod, closing your eyes as you felt the embarrassment.

"So fucking pretty," he muttered running his fingers on your folds. A current ran through your body when he touched your heat, you whimpered lowly.

He pressed his finger on your clit and rubbed light circles on it making your chest rise with heavy and sharp breaths. He was loving the reactions you were giving him, just like he wanted.

Without wasting a single second he inserted his middle finger in your hold making you clench the bed sheets. He started pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing the soft bud as he increases the pace.

"I want to hear my name from that pretty mouth of yours, moan for me." he ordered seeing you trying to control fyourself from making any noice.

"shit! Taehyung," you finally moaned, you actually wanted to but you thought it would be embarrassing.

"How gorgeous you look moaning my name like that when I fuck you with my fingers," he groaned inserting another finger which made you gasp louder.

Your mind goes dizzy with all the pleasure and you feel yourself at the edge, "I... I will cum.." you speak between your shaky breaths.

"Cum for me princess."

You were too busy wanting your climax that you didn't actually pay attention to the nick name he just called you with.

His fingers expertly caress your bundle of nerves, causing ripples of exquisite sensations to travel through your entire being. A wetness gathers around his digits as they dance with skill on your aching clitoris and inner walls. The feeling intensifies, pushing you further beyond your limits as pleasure becomes almost unbearable but just when you think you may succumb, he increases the pressure on your peak, sending wave upon wave of bliss coursing throughout your eager body.

"Ahhh fuckkkk! Taehyung~" you moan loudly as you reach your climax and get that orgasm which you wanted from so long.

Taehyung doesn't stop, he continues to masterfully pleasure your throbbing clitoris and tenderly explore your pulsing insides, bringing you to shuddering orgasm after orgasm until the sheer ecstasy consumes you completely. Your cries fill the air as your muscles contract again and again, writhing beneath him. Yet, even amidst the rapture of climax, Taehyung doesn't slow down. His unrelenting devotion keeps the electric currents flowing through your veins, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

You feel another pool of pleasure forming inside your stomach as you keep moaning from how fast and roughly he was fingering you now.

"Oh god... Oh god... Taehyung please..." you whine but he just doesn't stop.

"yeah princess?" he asks innocently and you just shake your head.

"How badly you needed my fingers? how many times did you touch yourself imagining me huh? such a bad girl, you could have just asked me baby," his voice hoarse, "is my fingers making you feel good? is it satisfying you the way you always imagined?"

You nod your head instantly, "yess, yes... yess, Please don't stop."

He chuckles darkly before speaking, "I have no intention of stopping, not until you beg me to."

Taehyung grinds his knuckles into your overheated clit, applying a steady, relentless rhythm. Each pressurized pulse hits your sensitive area, ripple after ripple of pleasurable sensations spreading outwards. The pace quickens, as he adjusts the angle of his thrusts, finding new ways to stimulate every last inch of your core. Sweat begins to trickle down your temples and spine as your heart races faster in anticipation. Your head lolls back, surrendering to the building tide of passion.

soon another orgasm washes over you as you cum once again, moaning his name loudly. He stops for a moment, letting your breath.

"Fuck! That was-" you swallow the rest of your words as he inserts his finger once again without any warning.

"Fuck!!" you let out a cry, you were still coming down from the intense pleasure you just got and he started fingering again.

Your voice echoes, fueling his determination. He ferociously strums your throbbing nub, maintaining a firm grip on your hips to keep you grounded in this passionate frenzy. Rapid, heated breaths escape your lungs as the tension builds within you. Your body instinctively responds, clenching and releasing sporadically in a futile effort to delay the inevitable explosion of desire. It's no use, the sensation proves too powerful; your breasts heave as a low moan escapes you. And then comes the wave, threatening to overwhelm you.

"Oh fuckk.... please....." you whine, your thighs tremble and clenches on its own but he grabs and keeps it firm not allowing you to move.

"I promised that I will give you plenty of orgasms so be a good girl now." he growls.

You close your eyes tightly from the overwhelming pleasures, you were not able to breath properly other than moaning and screaming.

Taehyung's hairs sticks on his forehead from the sweat dripping from his head, his eyes focused on his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy and his thumb rubbing your clit. He seemed so determined to give you orgasms, his eyes was dark and filled with hunger.

Your voices echoes.

"HOLY FUCKKK!!!! FUCKKKKK!!!!" you scream louder as you cum again, thrice, your body arched back and toes curled, your fingers dug in the bedsheets and eyes rolled back, chest rised up as you feel another strong orgasm. Your mind completely goes blank for a moment. You squirt all over his fingers but he just doesn't stop, his other handstarts rubbing your clit senselessly, taking out all the liquids from inside your pussy. A huge mess.

"Taehyung~ please~ I can't take it more... please" you beg him as tears roll down your eyes.

He slows down his fingers eventually stopping it and then pulls it out. He gently pats your throbbing and heated clit to calm you down. Your pussy was literally pounding from all the intense orgasms and assault.

You take heavy breaths and gulp to wet your dry throat. He leans in and kisses your lips again before taking you in his lap.

"Now help me princess, it's painful." his words were begging but his voice was still demanding.

you kiss him once again before pushing him down on the bed.You unbutton his shirts quickly and then pull away his pants along with his boxers. His length bouncing out, a gasp escaped your mouth seeing how big and hard he is.

"Will it even fit?" you asked making him chuckle.

"It will fit and you will take it all like a good girl you are." you can feel how big of a dominant he is and you liked it that way, being submissive to him in bed was not bad at all.

with a sultry grin you, you crawl towards him, perching yourself above his rigid erection. You can feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, you rub his length on your folds gently, moaning at the sensation.

"Fuck! Take it already" he groaned and you followed. Inch by inch, you sink deeper onto him until finally your wetness embraces his entire length, surprisingly fiting in your little cunt. That's how nicely he fingered you.

"Are you okay?" he asks massaging your breasts.

"Fuck, yes I am." you let out a low moan, adjusting yourself on his cock.

He grabs your hips as you start moving slowly on his rock hard member..

"Holy fuck, you feel so good," he moans, "more than I ever imagined"

"you imagined me like this?" you ask rocking your hips on his cock.

"Always, everytime I was hard.... I always imagined fucking you like this to release myself," he groans and his hand grip guiding your hips in a perfect rhythm, "you feel so good, so fucking good."

"fuck!" you curse at the feeling of being impaled by him and his confessions were so intoxicating. You increase your pace, riding and grinding against him, undulating in time with pulsating rhythm.

His hands wander across your frame, cupping and pinching your erect nipples, sending bolts of electric pleasure coursing through your veins.

You could hear how seductive his moans were and how erotic it sounded, it felt like a music to your ears when he moaned your name buried inside your pussy.

His other hand rested tenderly upon your breast while the other hand helped you ride him relentlessly, with every thrust your hips squeezed his manhood tightly. a series of rippling pulses causing tremors throughout his lower body.

Moans escape from the depths of your throat, your body arching slightly with each contractions. Feeling the mighty grip of your core contracting around him. His cock twicthes inside your pussy hinting his edge.

"Cum Taehyung, like you always wanted to... cum inside my cunt... fill it with your hot release." you hype him up, as you reach your own high, earning a deep growl from him.

"Fuck! you are such a slut for me. Aren't you?" he growls, his wands now gripping your hips firmly increasing the pace to unimaginable speed.

"Fck yes!" you let out a cry.

"Then cum with me princess, come one.. show me how good of a slut you are."

He guides you to your another climax while reaching his own.

Your body arched back completely, nails dug on his chest as you both reach your climax together.

"FUCK! Such a good girl you are!" he moans loudly, releasing himself inside your cunt.

His hot and sticky fluid fills your pussy, you fall on his chest... panting heavily and his arms wrap around you.

He kisses your forehead, the least thing you could have expected and runs his fingers along your hairs once he calmed down.

"I love you." his voice soft now but still shaky from breathlessness.

You rise your face to look at him, "you what?"

He nods confirming his words, "I love you, I really do."

"Just because you had a good fuck with me?" you frown.

"No, I mean yes it was the best sex I will ever have because it's our first fuck together but I really love you."

"Since when?"

"Since the day you punched my face" he chuckled

"and you always pretended to hate me, why?" you ask, unknowingly pouting a little.

"because I liked teasing you that way, I liked the tention between us, didn't you?" he stroked your cheeks gently.

"I would hate to admit but yes, you attracted me a lot like that."

"The reason you were fucking yourself watching my video." he chuckled teasing you a little.

"uh.. and you literally installed hidden cameras here, how many times did you watch me doing that?"

"if I watched you earlier then we wouldn't be fucking for the first time today princess," you finally notice the nick name he is calling you with and a smile tugs in your lips, "its just been a week since I installed the cameras but I swear I rarely saw anything except for today, I got so needy from the club that I couldn't control myself."

"wish you watched me earlier." you speak as he continues caressing your cheeks and hairs.

"bad girl you are."

"only for you and I love you too" you confess before pecking his lips gently and he wraps you in his arms, smiling widely.

"I think I will get the best sleep today." you mumble against his chest and he just strokes your hairs after pulling a blanket over you both.

"Good night princess." he kisses your head once again.

⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕

A/n : Believe me, this is the first time I actually wrote a proper smut like with the proper words and all. It took me hours to complete and I honestly don't know what all I wrote and if it's good because I was too horny to focus properly, I just went with the flow. Please bare with any mistakes and yeah it's my first time writing such story so please show some love y'all :)

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starrystormwritings · 1 month

Text

Red Wine

Master List <3 Request List <3 Marauders Master List <3

Remus Lupin x Reader

A/n: I lowkey hate this but it was inspired by the image of Sirius Black loving tequila and me thinking that all the muggle born students watching the others get drunk without it touching them was hilarious. This is based in their 7th year.

Summary: Muggle drinks and muggle drinking games.

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of underaged drinking, swearing, kissing, jealousy, fake ID

Word Count: 2232

(NOT MY GIF)

"Psst! Y/n! Over here!"

I spun my head around to see Christopher Adam's waving me over from the corner of the room, pointing enthusiastically at the plastic bag in his hands.

I smiled back at him and nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll be back now." I said to Sirius, who was spinning me around to the ABBA song playing before Chris had interrupted us.

"What does he want?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow "You got a new boyfriend or something?" He laughed slightly as I rolled my eyes and just walked away from him.

Me and some of the other muggle born students were starting to find these Gryffindor parties boring after the summer.

After partying at home with muggle drinks the classic fire whisky and witches brew just wasn't doing anything for us anymore, as funny as it was watching the pure and half bloods get extremely drunk so fast there's only so many parties you can do sober.

Hence Christopher.

A small group of us had gathered our money together and convinced Chris to use one of his approved trips to visit home to stop by a muggle store and complete a shopping list.

It took us a week to make him a fake ID good enough for him to pass as eighteen.

"So? How'd it go?" I asked, smiling brightly at him as I took the bag out of his hands.

"No hassle with the ID, although I did have to go to four stores so I didn't look suspicious buying this much alcohol for everyone." He rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"You're a lifesaver, we all owe you big time. Thank you!"

He just waved me off and I happily ran back over to the boys with the bag in my arms.

They were all giving the an identical look of speculation as I approached.

"What have you done?" James asked, trying to grab the bag off me before I pulled back.

"Why do you assume such little from me! I've gotten you all presents. Muggle presents actually."

Sirius perked up at that, excitedly shaking Remus's shoulders. Causing him to lean the other way with a smile.

"I'm about to show you all how muggles drink, because fire whisky is nothing in comparison. I've got fuck loads of things to share but I tried to get each of you something I thought you'd like."

"So it's alcohol?" Peter asked, now it was him having to push an excited Sirius away.

"Yep! For you Peter, gin. We don't have any tonic so drink it with lemonade, I think you'll like it though." He smiled widely as I handed him the rounded bottle, quickly opening it to smell it.

"It smells nice?"

"Yeah not all alcohol needs to smell like straight ass." I laughed nodding to the fire whisky in his other hand.

"James I've got you some muggle beers. I genuinely think this will change your life." I said with a laugh, handing him over the six pack as he looked at it bewildered.

"Like butter beer?"

"Kinda? Just a lot less sweet."

He nodded with a smile and popped the top of the bottle off, his smile growing as he tasted it.

"This is alcoholic?"

I laughed at him and turned to Sirius who looked like he was about to explode if I didn't show him what else was in the bag.

"Sirius I got you some tequila. There's some lime and salt on the table over there, you'll want them to take a shot. Lily will show you, she's been looking forward to it all night."

He took the bottle off me with a smirk before quickly hugging me from behind, placing an exaggerated kiss on the side of my face before running off.

"Thank you!"

I laughed at him, and watched James follow after him after a mention of Lily, Peter as always followed behind James.

"I hope you got yourself something, you're way too generous."

Remus said, sitting up on the table next to me with a soft smile.

"Oh don't worry I did." I reached to pull the large bottle from the bag "Some good old fashioned vodka for me."

He laughed at me and sniffed the bottle I held out in front of him, recoiling back.

"It smells horrible." He said with a laugh.

"That's how you know it's strong." I replied, coughing hard as I took a sip from the bottle. "I should probably mix it with some coke."

He laughed at me for a minute, nodding "Yeah, probably a good idea. I'll go get you some."

I placed an arm in front of him as he went to move to stop him.

"Not so quick Lupin, didn't think I'd forget you did I?"

"You didn't have to get me anything." A small blush covered his cheeks, reassuring me that I made the right call with getting him something.

"That's why you're my favourite."

"Wow I always thought Sirius was your favourite." He replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah well don't tell him, it would crush him."

He continued to laugh as I pulled the bottle of red wine out of my bag, passing it over to him.

"I think you'll like it, not as strong as the others but you'll enjoy it."

He looked over the bottle inquisitively.

"Thank you, I'll go pour myself a glass and grab you that coke." He smiled warmly at me, squeezing my knee as he got up.

My eyes followed him across the room, I smiled as I watched him interact with an already drunk Sirius who was shouting about the impressive feat of muggle alcohol.

"You're drooling." Mary said from behind me, causing me to jump and hit her in the arm.

"Shut up."

~~~~~

"So you've all been enjoying the muggle drinks, how about a muggle game to go with it!" Marls shouted from the middle of the room, clearly drunk.

A large group slowly made their way into a circle on the floor as Marls enthusiastically went around the room trying to gather a large enough group.

Remus groaned as I pulled him off the wall he was leaning on and led him towards the floor, an obvious smile on his face.

"Ok so you spin the bottle." She giggled while placing one of James's now empty beer bottles into the middle of the group. "You and whoever it lands on go into the broom cupboard for seven minutes. What happens is there is up to you." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively whilst laughing as the game began.

As the circle slowly made its way around I found myself hunched over onto Remus in a fit of laughter at Sirius and Peters faces as they came out of the cupboard looking very unamused.

As the group calmed down Sirius took his seat back next to me in the circle and most eyes moved towards me.

I giggled awkwardly before leaning forward and spinning the bottle as hard as I could.

As I lent back and watched it spin I silently prayed that it would land on the boy sat next to me who seemed to be avoiding my eye contact as everyone made a drum roll sound around us.

Much to my dismay instead of landing on Remus the bottle instead pointed towards the one and only James Potter whose face went bright red.

I laughed softly and stood up, watching him as he followed. The room whistling as we made our way into the small space.

If it wasn't gonna land on Remus James would've probably been my second choice, he was to in love with Lily to ever make a move on someone else. And I felt the same way about our best friend.

"So this isn't awkward." I joked with a smile.

He just half way laughed in response.

"Everything okay?" I asked, my eyes adjusting in the dark to make out his figure.

"Yeah it's stupid, Lily's just been avoiding me all night. I know I make a fool of myself for her but sometimes I just wish that she would just look at me." He sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Maybe she is and you're just not seeing?"

"Trust me, I'd see." He sadly laughed and I patted his shoulder comfortingly before getting an idea.

"I've got a way that would get her to look at you."

He turned to look at me with what I guessed was a confused expression.

I reached up to unbutton the first two buttons of his shirt.

"Whoa Y/n what are you doing?"

I laughed slighting at him, shaking my head.

"No I'm not doing that, trust me."

I reached up to ruffle my hand through his hair to make it messier, then moving to untuck one side of his shirt.

"Yeah she'll look at me if I look like shit. Is that the plan?" He laughed slightly and I softly hit him with the back of my hand.

I messed my own hair up as well, also shifting my clothes so they were slightly askew.

"Jealousy is the plan James."

It seemed to click with him then and despite the dark I could see the red blush on his face.

"You really think that'll work?"

"I hate to say it but if one thing will make her notice you, it's thinking that you might've noticed someone else. I'm also really drunk so this might be a bad plan."

He laughed at me, covering his mouth to try and stay quieter.

"I'm drunk enough to give it a go." He responded with a smile.

"Last touch." I reached up to move his glasses to sit crooked on his face with a laugh.

"There, perfect. Let's get you your lady."

As I spoke there was a knock at the door, and a second later Sirius Black swung them open.

"Merlin! Didn't see that happening." He said with a laugh, looking between us in disbelief "I always thought you were into Moony Y/n."

James punched him softly in the arm, shaking his head and I just walked past silently, trying to shake the blush off of my face and hoping everyone was just ignoring the obviously drunk pure blood.

I made my way back over to the circle but before I could sit back down Remus had already stood from his spot next to me and walked out of the common room with his bottle of wine.

~~~~~

I'd been wandering the castle grounds looking for Remus for the last thirty minutes.

The party had died down and everyone was so drunk most of them had passed out by now.

I was buzzed enough that the cold wasn't bothering me but I couldn't for the life of me figure out where Remus would've gone.

I sat on the floor against the railing as I finally got to the top of the astronomy tower, the vodka and the amount of stairs I just climbed had knocked the wind out of me.

"Y/n?"

A familiar voice said from next to me, making me jump.

"Jesus, I've been looking for you." I smiled at him but he only held my eye contact for a second before looking back out to the night sky.

"You disappeared, it got boring without you."

He laughed slightly and shook his head, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I'm sure it was fine without me. You and James sure didn't look bored." He chuckled awkwardly making me quirk an eyebrow at him.

"What? Me and James?"

He just nodded, avoiding my eyes.

"James definitely isn't bored, Lily's been all over him all night." I laughed softly and he just looked at me inquisitively.

"Aren't you upset by that?"

"Upset? Why would I be upset? Honestly I think it's a miracle."

He laughed slightly at that and finally looked back over to me.

"But you and James were snogging each other? Was that just a joke or something?"

I just looked at him confused for a second before breaking out into giggles.

"Oh you didn't actually think we did that? Gross no! I just thought that it would make Lily jealous. It worked by the way."

He seemed to think for a second before a small smile finally made its way onto his face.

"Oh, so you didn't actually kiss him?"

I snorted, covering my face quickly in embarrassment.

"No no, I just messed up his hair and unbuttoned his shirt a little. He's not my type."

Remus laughed quietly at that, relaxing a little.

"Good."

I nudged him lightly with my elbow, sliding over to sit next to him, bumping our knees together.

"Careful Lupin it almost feels like you're jealous."

He just looked at me for a second, a little smile on his face as he moved to stand up, offering me his hand.

"Maybe I was." He chuckled softly and pulled me to my feet as I just looked at him dazed.

"C'mon I'll walk you back to your dorm." He threaded our fingers together and went to walk but I didn't move.

"I wanted the bottle to land on you, for the record."

We both stood there for a second, just looking at each other before he grabbed my chin softly and lent down.

I never really liked the taste of red wine until that night.

#x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #marauders x reader #sirius black #marauders #marauders era #hogwarts #james potter #reader insert #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x slytherin!reader #remus x reader #remus lupin

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tonicandjins · 1 year

Text

frequent flyers | lee donghyuck

CHARACTERS: haechan | lee donghyuck x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 13k

GENRE: angst, fluff, smut (non-linear) | best friends to strangers

AUTHOR'S NOTE: read with caution. this is written in a non-linear form, so you don't know when it's going to hurt ;) this is a dh x reader version of my markhyuck fic from ao3, but with a different ending

frequent flyers is the third installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: skin glowing under the dainty string lines and lined up lanterns hanging from the high ceilings, lips curled up to genuine smile instead of the usual teasing smirk plastered on his mouth, cheeks tainted in berry red—a single manifestation of the glasses of wine he’s had tonight, eyes round and sincere and everything you’ve ever known.

Zhong Chenle’s mellifluous voice echoes in the banquet, singing to the tune of lover as the newly weds take their first dance (third song in) in the middle of the floor, surrounded by couples and lovers swaying. From your peripheral view, you catch a glimpse of Park Jisung sneaking his phone out and recording the whole thing—after Chenle clearly mentioned no one else aside from the newlyweds’ assigned videographer is allowed to film him.

On other days, you’d love to listen to Chenle’s golden voice, and he knows this because from all the years you’ve known him, you’d supported his career and you’d spend many hours sitting in his studio, listening to him record, or sitting somewhere halfway across the world, watching him write his songs. I can listen to him sing all day, you’d say, but as the night jumps deeper into its darkness, you realize how excruciatingly long his 15-minute medley went by.

You look across the room.

Donghyuck looks enthralling like this: beautiful even after all these years, charming like he’s the day he turned 21, grown, earnest, and at ease. It’s agonizing to look at from where you sit across the room—hands wrapped around her waist, eyes closing as he leans in, drunk, drunk, drunk like the night you’d left him, heart void of you.

You begin to count.

At 27, you’re pretty much done with all kinds of romance the world could offer.

Unlike the person sitting next to you, you prefer to listen to Blushing Youth than watch some high-rated romantic comedy film during your 12-hour flight from Heathrow to Incheon, and while you’ve been moving around for most of your life (having earned your nickname as frequent flyer, credits to Jisung), flying is not one of the things you’re fond of. In fact, it’s not in the long list of strengths you brag about in your LinkedIn bio. You reckon it would truly be embarrassing, to say the least, to ask a stranger to distract you from the sound of the aircraft’s engine running at full power as it takes off from the runway, hence you opt to blast Ahn Jiyoung’s voice right in your eardrums.

It’s odd, people would say, for someone who’s supposedly mastered the art of moving from one country to another to be so terrified of flights, but if people want you to be completely honest, nothing sounds more horrifying than the thought of seeing Lee Donghyuck after years of radio silence.

As pathetic as it sounds, your heart still skips a beat—three, sometimes—at the thought of him.

Donghyuck, who used to be your sun, who had you orbiting around his gravitational pull for years, who used to be so close but not enough to have, who—if you think about it now—might have never been the center of your solar system after all, but maybe just a shooting star passing by.

The plane takes off, roughly and loud like you’d expected, and you catch a glimpse of a scene from Love, Rosie from the person sitting beside you and immediately regret going coach instead of flying business like how you would if your flights last more than ten hours. You hate this film; you hate it because Alex is to Rosie, like how Donghyuck is to you.

Alex and Rosie, like you and Donghyuck, are—were—long-time best friends who used to be inseparable until one day they’re not. Rosie misses her chance. Alex stops yearning, hoping, waiting, and finally decides to get on with his life. It’s a story of a bunch of tangled webs—a messy tumbleweed of missed calls and delayed flights, of long nights and short days, of forgotten promises and faded hope.

The film introduces new people, bids goodbye to old chapters, but in the end it’s Alex and Rosie.

And you wish that’s how your story went. You don’t end up kissing him in your very own hotel with an awe-striking view of the horizon right outside the window.

You bury the thought before you start missing him again. You run out of tracks from Blushing Youth’s discography like how you run dry from thinking about what happens next when your plane lands.

Might as well sleep it off.

A sharp, jabbing pain on your left leg wakes you up from your unscheduled sleep. Hissing, you find Donghyuck sitting on top of your legs.

“I swear to God,” you breathe, kicking your best friend’s weight off your limbs. “I will freaking kill you.”

“Dude, what’s wrong with saying fuck? You’re literally twenty,” Donghyuck replies, moving further so his entire body crushes yours, and you have to pretend that his warmth doesn’t make you feel some type of way, hence you push him as hard as you can until he falls onto the carpeted floor of your room.

He falls with a thump. “Screw you,” he mumbles, mouth forming a pout that you’d gladly smack out of his face—except you’d do it with your very own lips. “It’s almost one in the afternoon. Why are you napping?”

“Good question, Donghyuck,” you start, sitting up and rubbing your eyes while looking for the pair of specs that Donghyuck is already shoving towards your direction; you gladly take it. “Unlike you, I had to work in the café until one in the morning. I hate being rostered in the closing shift, but it pays damn well. Plus, I forgot to do my laundry so I had to throw my clothes in before I slept.

“Overworking again, I see,” he muses, sighing as he scoots to sit cross-legged across you on the bed too tiny for two people.

“The last week of the semester always sucks balls,” you answer, tilting your head in attempts to stretch your stiffened neck and get some kind of relief. “Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be out there doing something stupid with Na Jaemin?”

“There’s a music festival on Friday,” he starts right away. “Jaemin’s wondering if I’d be interested to go, says he could get us some free passes from the guy he’s hooking up with. Apparently, the guy is DJ-ing.”

You blink. “Which one? Lee Jeno? Or Yoon Sanha?” you ask, genuinely curious because Jaemin is Jaemin and he could never be caught exclusively hooking up with one person.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Does it matter? Is it a yes or a no? That’s the question.”

He begins to fiddle with his fingers, playing with the rings on his long, delicate digits, and you recognize it almost instantly. Donghyuck is nervous. You might have an idea why.

“Is this you finally asking me out, Lee Donghyuck?” you half-joke, scratching your head. Donghyuck looks anywhere but your face. A glimpse of his eyes is all you need, because if the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, then Donghyuck’s are wide open, with no curtains and bare from all layers—at least that’s how they are to you. His eyes are wavering, and though he’s mastered the ability to keep his face tough as steel, those orbs could only do so little when it comes to hiding from you.

So, you smile, reaching out and leaning closer, kneeling until you’re face to face with him. “Only kidding, Hyuck,” you say finally, taking it easy because this conversation is not for one who’s hazy from sleep and one who can’t even look at the other in the eyes. “Of course, I’ll come with you. Who else can you bring anyway?”

Donghyuck looks up, rolling his eyes; he’s back. “You’re not really irreplaceable,” he replies smugly. “Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

You poke your tongue out and reach over your night stand to check your phone; at the same time, Donghyuck starts biting his fingernails. You don’t think twice—like blinking, a habit, natural—and reach out to pull his hand away, mumbling about how he should start working on getting rid of this bad habit of his. Donghyuck’s hand is warmer compared to yours, and he lets out a whine, complaining about your freezing hands, but squeezes you hand back anyway.

You are content with this. You hope Donghyuck is, too.

The lingering touches. The stolen kisses. The piercing glances.

While they all seem fleeting and simple, they mean the most to you. You begin to think if Donghyuck feels the same as he pulls you closer until you’re both back lying on his bed, your cheek resting on top of Donghyuck’s warm, cloth-covered chest. You wonder if he means it, when he says you’re not irreplaceable and that maybe you’re a little too comfortable, a little too satisfied with whatever it is that you have.

On a drunken night, Donghyuck may have asked you once. You remember it and think about it so much that sometimes it felt like a dream.

“How long, Y/N,” he had asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, gaze a shade darker. “How long until you let yourself just lose it? For once, just—just please, let your feelings consume you.”

You didn’t want to—not then, not now—because it’s going to hurt.

It’s going to hurt because it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Donghyuck who feels like home, whose hands are warm enough for your cold ones, your own little sun. Losing him is the extinction of your solar system.

“Y/N,” he had whined when you didn’t reply, shaking you, pleading. “When are you going to want for more? I want you to ask me for more.”

But Donghyuck had passed out before you had the chance to think of an answer—time frame—and you wonder what your answer would have been if Donghyuck stayed awake for a couple more minutes.

“I guess napping at this time of the day doesn’t sound too bad,” Donghyuck murmurs against your hair, kissing it before relaxing. “Set an alarm for me. 3 pm.”

You hope Donghyuck asks you again, not this time, but you hope the question lingers in his mind a little longer.

He falls asleep to the sound of your breathing.

When the person sitting next to you finally wakes up, you could only sigh in relief.

The aircraft has landed a few minutes ago, and your flight seatmate slept so soundly that it took you a couple of minutes to shake her awake.

The 12-hour flight is a pain in the ass, and you wish you mean that figuratively. Waiting was something that you were once good at, and Renjun often told you he wished he had half the patience you had. If you think about it now and reflect whether you’re as patient and as willing to wait as before, you’d changed vastly. Ridiculous, how one could change so much in a lifetime.

Huang Renjun is standing behind a barricade when you finally reach the arrival area after going through immigration. He’s holding a piece of paper that says WELCOME HOME, Y/N! Renjun doesn’t give you the time to cross the boundary because he attacks you in bone-crushing hug the second he’s allowed to. You almost topple over him, your glasses at risk of either falling out of your face and into the cold, hard ground, or being crushed between your nose and Renjun’s shoulder.

Renjun chants your nickname over and over again, swaying both your bodies left and right as though you weighed nothing. “I’m literally about to combust. My chest has been pounding since I arrived here. You have no idea how much I missed you, and you were taking forever to go through immigration.”

“Oh, Huang Renjun,” you sigh, inhaling his scent and returning the hug. “Some things never change. You’re still the sweetest when you miss people. Absence really makes the heart grow fond.”

Renjun pulls away to get a good look on you. “Y/N, you’re all grown up. I can’t believe you resisted not seeing me in person for four years.”

“You’re just as grown up as I am,” you reply. “We Facetime each other every other day. What are you talking about?”

“It’s never the same,” he mumbles and helps you with your luggage despite it only being one small luggage, a small duffel bag, and your small backpack. He starts nagging as soon as he notices how small your baggage is.

“You were away for literally four years and you think packing three old shirts and a pair of jeans will be enough to get you through your entire trip here?” Renjun gasps. “You’re stupid if you think Chenle and Jisung are allowing you to leave after what we’re all here for. They have an entire month planned out the second you agreed to come home.”

“I didn’t bring only three shirts, for your information. And I did bring a few pairs of trousers and a coat, plus my dress for the wedding,” you defend. “And I can’t extend my trip here. I thought we’ve all got that one settled.”

Renjun laughs, as if what you said is some kind of joke, as he leads you towards the exit of the airport. “You know we would 100%, without hesitation, burn your passport if it means we could make you stay longer, don’t you? I hope you don’t underestimate us like that.”

You chuckle at his empty threat, your chest swelling at the thought of your long-time friends being thrilled of your arrival in Seoul. You wonder how much has changed in the last four years, and you reckon nothing much has when it comes to your friends. You’d left when most of you were twenty-three, and the only person you’d ever seen in person since then was Chenle, who at that time, had business in London so he stayed where you lived instead of a luxurious hotel he could afford.

“We’re heading to Chenle’s place,” Renjun announces as soon as you sit comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. “But he’s still in his studio recording something, so he won’t be around until maybe five.”

“Why are we going to Chenle’s place if he’s not there yet?” you ask. “He didn’t tell me he had work.”

“We’ve all worked around our schedules to meet you today,” Renjun explains as he turns the ignition on and starts backing up. “And everyone knows his home’s passcode. Remember back in college when his stupid fancy condo eventually became everyone’s? That’s still how it is now. Only this time, he owns a penthouse in Gangnam’s most expensive building. What a spoiled brat.”

“He earned it,” you comment.

Renjun hums. An old track from the local radio station plays just as the vehicle exits the airport’s parking area. You hadn’t heard this song in years, but your mouth sings the lyrics as though it’s only been yesterday.

Renjun is amused. “Some things never really change.”

Donghyuck suddenly changes his hair color on Sophomore year in college. You, on the other hand, are about to have an aneurysm.

Na Jaemin makes fun of you, laughs as if your reaction is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen his entire life. He deems it as the best day of his life.

“Jaemin, am I a fucking joke to you?” you ask. Jaemin doesn’t even bother to answer. “You think this is funny?”

You almost choke on nothing when Donghyuck decides to walk towards the table you’re sharing with Jaemin inside the university’s very own cafeteria. He’s holding a tray of food for lunch. The man himself has a shy smile on his face, evidently aware of the attention that the people around are giving him because of his newly-dyed pink hair, and you can’t really blame anyone if they stared a little longer.

Because Donghyuck is already beautiful, with his shining eyes and glowing skin and a smile that could make the earth stop orbiting around the sun.

But this Donghyuck, Pink Sun as Jaemin had started calling him, he’s something else. You might pass out if you look at him a little longer.

“I told you pink looks amazing on you!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as Donghyuck is close enough.

Donghyuck instantly blushes, but covers it up with a smug smirk across his mouth.

“Careful,” Donghyuck warns. “I don’t want you getting hurt if I reject you.”

Jaemin gasps, “You would never!”

Donghyuck playfully sticks out his tongue on Jaemin and finally, finally, turns towards you. Your breath is caught in a hitch. Donghyuck tilts his head slightly and you’re about to punch himself in the face.

“What do you think?” the man asks, smiling cheekily. “Do you think I look better blond or pink-haired?”

You swallow. It takes you great power not to pull Donghyuck and kiss him squarely on the mouth.

Blond Donghyuck was a menace in the society. Pink Sun is giving you a heart attack.

But you’re not about to make things too obvious, so you shrug and mutter a small “either is fine.” Jaemin kicks you under the table. Donghyuck sighs, taking out his phone to open its front camera, probably to check himself out as he brushes his fingertips in his hair.

“You’re cheap, Y/N,” he says, putting his phone down. “I basically burn my scalp to get this hair color and pull it off better than Lee Taeyong ever will, and all I get from you is, ‘either is fine.’”

Jaemin laughs hysterically, taking his phone out as Donghyuck takes the empty seat beside you—like always, because seats beside you are always reserved for him. Donghyuck carefully places the tray of food he got, immediately, your eyes catch the extra drink he has and your heart somersaults because you know it’s for you.

And this is supposed to be normal. Your friends tell you it’s a routine—every day—and you and him do things for each other like second nature. So, why does it make your heart race like this?

Your phone chimes as Donghyuck starts eating.

“We really need to work on your communication skills,” the text message from Jaemin says.

Your comprehension in Korean went from bad to worse, if it’s even possible.

Renjun is currently roasting you for it, while Jisung and Kim Minjeong are arguing about what to eat. You tell them how small the Asian community in London is as compared to other countries. Jaemin announces that Mark Lee just boarded his flight from Vancouver, too, and you cheer, excited to see him as well after all these years. Yoo Jimin calls out Jisung and Minjeong’s bullshit and says she’d already ordered from the nearest restaurant.

How you all end up in Chenle’s penthouse before the owner himself is aware, you have no idea. All you know is that things have not really changed that much.

You feel a little disoriented, your mind still a little hazy from the 12-hour trip, and you hate that the jetlag is hitting you as early as now. You feel like you could fall asleep anytime soon.

Then you hear familiar voices faintly coming from the door, then the door itself being unlocked. You observe from the digital clock above Chenle’s fancy television that it’s only nearly two in the afternoon, so it’s not Chenle who’s coming in.

Donghyuck appears from the door before you realize it, and he takes your breath away before you could even look him in the eyes.

“Sorry, we’re late,” the dark-haired man says, his voice making you feel suffocated, stepping out of his boots because God forbid anyone who steps inside Zhong Chenle’s penthouse wearing the outdoor shoes.

Lee Jeno enters behind him, his eye smile ready to meet you, while Jaemin says they arrived just in time for lunch. All is a blur and everything sounds like white noise, because Donghyuck looks at you in the eyes with the softest gaze, the smallest smile, and suddenly it doesn’t feel so cold in Seoul.

Jeno walks past him and finds his space beside Jaemin. You hear Renjun and Jisung start arguing about another thing. All while Donghyuck stays still from where he stands, about ten feet away from your space, eyes still on you.

When they’re done dancing, Donghyuck walks with her, holding her hand and keeping her close.

He passes by, doesn’t even take a glance to your direction.

Donghyuck looks at you in amusement.

“It was terrible,” you grunt. “The worst day of my life.”

He giggles and pulls you in his arms, kissing the top of your head while you stand in the middle of the room. You’re still dressed in your warm clothes as you’d just arrived from the airport. You sigh in relief because you’ve been waiting for this all weekend.

“Don’t be too dramatic,” he mumbles. “Your cousin’s going to be ballistic if he learns that you called his wedding the worst day of your life.”

“You should’ve gone there with me,” you muse. “They were introducing me to so many people, and my uncle knows I’m shit at socializing, therefore forcing me to hang out with people I barely know is like stabbing me in the eye and asking me how many fingers you’re holding up.”

Donghyuck chuckles. “What could I have done if I were there?”

You smile, burying your face in his warm chest. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why’d you need me there?” Donghyuck asks again. You know he’s teasing you now, poking until he gets the answer he wants to hear. And you’re not about to deny Donghyuck of that. Besides, nothing is more satisfying than knowing you could make Donghyuck feel flustered despite of his strong, wild persona. So, you reach up and kiss him on the chin and hug him closer.

“Because nothing is as bad as it seems when you’re around, my love.”

Donghyuck begins to pull away, making you hold onto him tighter, as if your hands would grow cold without touching him. Donghyuck only laughs, allowing you to hug him longer, and you wonder if you could stretch this night out for as long as he can.

The moment passes by quickly.

“Donghyuck, will you at least listen to me?”

“I’m done, Y/N.”

Renjun announces he’s done cleaning up.

Jaemin doesn’t waste a single second, getting up from his space on the other couch and announces it’s time they really catch up with everyone. It turns out that Jimin herself just got back from Germany yesterday as well, while Minjeong took a week off from work, and all had waited for you to come home before gathering in Chenle’s place.

“Mark’s a piece of shit, just like you,” Jeno comments when asked why the older didn’t take the earliest flight. Apparently, like yourself, Mark couldn’t get a couple of weeks off from work, hence he’d decided to travel a few days before the wedding, which is essentially why you all had a reason to gather once again after all these years.

“Why are you all harassing me and Mark for not being able to take a longer leave from work?” you whine, throwing a cushion towards where Jeno is seated, right beside Jimin. “It’s not like we can help it!”

Minjeong snorts, “You could’ve said you have COVID or something.”

You snicker. “Only you could think of that, Minjeong-ah.”

Jeno talks about his recent flight to Yonagunijima in Okinawa for a business trip. Renjun tells him he’s never gone that far in Japan, his farthest trip being in Osaka; Jeno says he can take him there anytime he gets some free time from work. Jaemin hypes up Jisung’s newly built dance studio and the contract he’d just signed with the biggest entertainment company in Asia, to which Jisung only downplays and says it’s not that big of deal.

You and Donghyuck stay quiet while everyone else talks over one another. He sits at the other end of the same couch you’re sitting on while Jisung occupies the space between you and him. Renjun probably feels the tension, so he cuts it.

“Donghyuck, what have you been up to?” Renjun asks, reaching over for a piece of chocolate you’d stolen from Chenle’s fridge.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Renjun-ah, don’t act like we don’t see each other every weekend.”

Renjun scoffs. “We’re here to catch up. Do you want me to tell them what you’ve been up to myself?”

Donghyuck throws a cushion and misses. “Nothing’s new about me, guys. Nothing that’s interesting enough.” Then, he leans forward and turns to you. “Maybe Y/N has anything to say. I mean, she’s the one who’s been away the longest.”

It takes you aback, the interaction unexpected, and gets you stuttering. “I’m—There’s really nothing, I mean.”

Donghyuck laughs lightly. “Loosen up. You look like you’d rather be elsewhere but here.”

“It’s not like that,” you defend. “It’s just—jetlag.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck nods. “How long was the flight?”

“Twelve hours,” you answer. Renjun does his best, distracting everyone else with a new conversation so you and Donghyuck, you assume, would feel more comfortable rather than have everyone listen to you talking with the person you used to know the best. Jisung tries to subtly leave, pretending like he needs to go to the restroom, and you know it’s a tactic because you also know Jisung like the back of your hand.

Donghyuck immediately moves closer, taking the space Jisung used to sit on, the distance pulling the air out of your lungs.

“And my flight was delayed for a couple of hours because of a storm,” you continue, clearing your voice. “So, fourteen hours in total, plus one hour from Incheon to Gangnam.”

Donghyuck nods. “Well, you fly frequently.”

You nod back. “Not that frequently anymore. Since the pandemic, I’ve been working from home a lot; there was no need to travel after all. Or move to a different country. It turns out we can do everything virtually.”

Donghyuck chuckles, almost sarcastically. “What a shame that the entire world realized suddenly that everything could work virtually.”

You smile, sadly almost. “Yeah. What a shame.”

“I didn’t get the whole thing,” Jisung sighs. “What a shame. The last parts were the best.”

“You know Chenle’s going to kill you if he finds out you took a video, right?”

Jisung nods proudly. “That was the point.”

“Lia, wait,” Donghyuck’s voice echoes—not loud enough to catch anyone else’s attention, but definitely enough for you. You watch him follow Lia out.

You decide you’ve had enough. The wedding’s done now, anyway. There’s nothing left for you here.

Jisung looks at you. “Y/N.”

“Just need some space, Jisung,” you say. “I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” You gasp, almost dropping your iPad upon Donghyuck’s revelation. “Holy shit, Donghyuck, that’s huge!”

“Never thought I’d hear that in another context but thanks, my love,” Donghyuck replies, a proud smile etched on his mouth. He reaches over and shows you a piece of paper, the confirmation of his participation in a convention in Shanghai a couple of weeks from now.

“Wait until Jaemin hears this,” You ramble, already on his phone to text said friend about the good news. “He’s going to throw a party for you.”

“You guys are too proud of me,” Donghyuck whines. “What if I end up being such a flop outside my comfort zone? There are going to be so many amazing artists out there. I heard some vocal majors from Konkuk are attending the conference with me, and I am already terrified of them. I can't imagine myself once I'm surrounded by even more talented and more intimidating singers."

You put down your tablet on your desk, sighing as you step closer towards Donghyuck. You’re in the apartment you share with Jimin, and Donghyuck called in earlier to tell you he’s got some great news. Neither of you really have much time to meet these days, with your internship at Seoul's biggest web developer company and the drastic changes in Donghyuck's schedule, it's a little too difficult to hang out in the safety of your apartment.

Donghyuck is evidently taken aback when you suddenly wrap an arm around his neck, tumbling when you pull him closer and kisses the air out of his lungs. You regret closing your eyes when your lips touch, thinking about the way Donghyuck looks like whenever you kiss him like this. Like Donghyuck's all you’ve ever needed. Like all the years of pining and hurting are expressed in a single kiss. Like it's everything you’ve always wanted and more.

It's not the first time you kiss—you’ve lost count you made out in the back of Jeno’s car two months ago while all your friends are drunk and out of their minds—but it always feels like it is.

Donghyuck's lips are soft, soft, soft, and you can never get enough of the kissing him. The first, featherlight, a little hesitant touch of your lips would be your second favorite part (the favorite is when Donghyuck's licking your mouth and nibbles on your lower lip), and his hands, his delicate hands would always be in your hair, pulling and pressing and touching.

It's perfect. Donghyuck pulls you down with him on your very own bed, letting you sit on his lap.

He's kissing you everywhere, your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your jaw, but he stops when you begin to unbutton his shirt. You look down on him, confused and eager and dazed, and usually, Donghyuck would give in without a single fight, but this time he stops you.

"What are we doing, Y/N?" Donghyuck lets out, like he's been holding this breath forever and now he's finally exhaling it.

"We're," you start, confused why he’s asking all of a sudden, but you don’t really have an answer to that. "We're—”

"Messing around. Having fun while we can," Donghyuck finishes, quoting your own words the first time you hooked up. "I know. But that was before, right? What about now? What are we doing now?"

Your hands drop on Donghyuck's side. Donghyuck quickly takes both of them in his, giving you a comforting squeeze, as if he's encouraging you to say something. To be brave. To let go.

"We can't go on like this if you don't answer me, Y/N," Donghyuck says softly. "I know what I want, and you know that it's you. Just you. From the beginning. As long as I live. And you are making me happy right now. But I need to know if this is what you want, too."

"Love, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want you," you explain, eyes wavering.

"Y/N, listen to me," Donghyuck urges, letting go of one of your hands to hold your face so you could look into each other's eyes. "Tell me now. Tell me now, honestly, if this is something you would want in the long run."

"Donghyuck," You sigh, like you’re begging for Donghyuck to stop asking. But Donghyuck doesn't let his guard down. He keeps his hands on you, waiting.

You want nobody else but Donghyuck, too. From the beginning. For as long as you live. And Donghyuck is making you happy, and you know well that Donghyuck will make you happy in the long run. The last two months of whatever game you’re playing had been fun. There was no agreement on being exclusive, no rules of some sort, and it all fell into place like you and him are supposed to end up like this. You hadn’t put a label on it, but you and Donghyuck are best friends for many years now. You went through growing pains together, survived each one of the flights you frequently took around the world, went to the same college together, and you don’t really see the point of rushing for a label now.

Because you have other things in mind other than what you feel right now. You have codes to master and board directors to impress. Donghyuck has auditions to pass and flights to catch as well, and now, an opportunity in Shanghai. Not to mention you’re both cramming to have the best credentials to get you the best job after graduation. Now is not really the best time.

So, just like many happenstances in your life, you come up with a stupid, stupid answer.

"I—I don't know, Donghyuck," you say nervously. "I mean, you're clearly making me happy. And I don't plan on seeing anyone else, but I haven't really gotten around to think about it."

Donghyuck takes his touch away all of a sudden. You reach out to hold his hands in place back to your face, but he lets go.

"Think about it?" Donghyuck asks, voice shaking. "What is there to think about? It's a simple question, Y/N. Do you want me for a long time or am I just some good fuck for you?"

"Donghyuck, why are you saying that?" you retort, angry now. "I just said you make me happy. And I'm not playing with you. I just—it's—with all the things going on in my life and yours, a relationship is not something I can maintain right now."

"Maintain?" Donghyuck chuckles, pulling his hands away, gently pushing you off his lap and standing away from your bed to put some space between you and him. "Y/N, we've been best friends since we were in high school. Literally nothing has changed for us except we kiss and fuck now. What is there to think about? I really do not understand."

You sigh. The sound of it makes Donghyuck pull away further until he’s picking up his backpack.

"Donghyuck, wait," You say, but Donghyuck is already out of his room, barefoot, his shoes in his hands.

Barefoot, his shoes in one hand, two bottles of beer on the other, Donghyuck finds you by the pool outside the wedding reception. He sits beside you and mimics the way you rolled the bottom of your dress up to your thighs so it doesn’t get wet and does the same with his expensive trousers.

“What are you doing out here?” you muse, eyes staring blankly at the way your feet look blurred out underwater. “Shouldn’t you be inside getting drunk and having the time of your life?”

Donghyuck chuckles, his cheeks painted like cherries, mouth glazed like strawberries, and hands you the cold bottle of beer. “I’m already drunk. Do you think I’d have the courage to come find you here if I was sober?”

You nod, taking the bottle from his hand. “Good point. Fun party?”

“Jaemin and Jeno never fail to organize the best party,” he stammers. “They used to invite everyone in their shared apartment to play the American games they learned from Johnny-hyung. I can’t believe they’re married now.”

Jaemin and Jeno, the very reason why all of you gathered after all these years, have always been destined for each other, and you know this because you’d seen them start off as nothing and watched them turn to everything. Their wedding had been the sole reason why you’d returned to Seoul.

“I always knew they’d end up together,” you mutter, drinking from the cold bottle. “I used to manifest it. I said it all the time I saw them together.”

Donghyuck giggles. “You used to believe in the law of attraction so much. You manifested everything that’s happened in your life.”

“I did, didn’t I?” you reply, tasting the bitterness coming from the drink, a reminder why you prefer any other drink aside from beer.

It’s quite for a minute until Donghyuck talks.

“Why didn’t you manifest us?” he says suddenly, words a little grumbled. He’s probably had too much to drink already. You hold onto him naturally as his head starts swaying until his head is leaning against your shoulder, close enough to hear each other breathing. “Y/N, why did you never say we’d end up together like this, too? You were so damn good with this law of attraction bullshit. You could’ve manifested our wedding, too.”

Donghyuck is drunk, and drunk Donghyuck is always vulnerable. His tone of voice is enough for you to decide to cut this trip shorter than it already is. A week, you had promised Jeno and Jaemin, you’d leave two days after the wedding. But at this moment, when you’re frozen in place, Donghyuck’s warmth touching your coldness, you begin to ponder if it had been a good idea to come back in Seoul at all.

You love Jeno and Jaemin and would do anything for them in a heartbeat. Therefore, when the couple announced their engagement two months ago, it had been a quick, solid yes, of course, I’ll be there because you wouldn’t miss their wedding for the world, even if it had been exactly four years and two months since the last time you’d breathed the air of Seoul and that you’d rather die than be in a 12-hour flight, you swore you’d be with your friends during such a huge chapter of their lives.

Your schedules were immediately reconstructed, a ticket to Seoul safely tucked in the files in your desk’s drawer, and all your friends from London were already asking you to bring something back from Seoul when your trip is over. It was all set, with the promise of checking in with your teammates from work during your one-week leave, and it was the easiest itinerary you’d ever made. What you failed to prepare, truly, is yourself.

Somehow, you knew this would happen. You knew coming back would mean seeing Donghyuck. And seeing Donghyuck means opening wounds you’re not certain have healed and resuming conversations you’d never wanted to go back to. And this means, at any given time Donghyuck is within your space, you’d be a goner.

Because four years, it turns out, isn’t enough to get over him.

Quite funny, if you think about it now, how after all these years, you’re still orbiting around him.

You clear your throat, no words coming out, and Donghyuck starts to fall asleep against your shoulder.

Your right shoulder feels sore after falling asleep on your side on Chenle’s couch the morning after Jaemin and Jeno’s bachelor party. It was crazy, to say the least, and you’d decided to drink your guts to in hopes of not remembering anything in the morning. It sucks because you’re stupidly hungover and you remember everything.

The group was divided into two. You, Renjun, Donghyuck, and Minjeong were in charge of Jaemin in the other side of the city, courtesy of Jung Jaehyun for sponsoring and personally planning the grand party for his favorite dongsaeng. Meanwhile, Jisung, Chenle, Mark, and Jimin had planned Jeno’s very own party, along with Lee Taeyong who funded the event.

If you’re being completely honest, you’d think that after college, your friends would lose their sparks in setting up amazing parties, but last night proved you wrong.

The alcohol was disgusting, but you like that it made Renjun do things he wouldn’t do sober. Jaemin refused to get shit-faced drunk because his wedding is in two days, his hangovers usually last an entire day—he doesn’t want to show up at his own wedding looking like a zombie. Minjeong, well, she’s Minjeong, so she was just all over the place, nagging and getting drunk. She’s also a snob who thinks so highly of herself despite being the youngest in the group and liked to look down on her older friends all while attempting to stand upright after downing five shots of tequila.

Donghyuck, however, decided to bring his new girlfriend. Her name is Lia. And the only goal last night was to stay as far away as possible.

You knew that the relationship was new because Jisung filled you in before you had all parted ways for the parties, said that Donghyuck started dating her two months ago right around the time Jaemin and Jeno got engaged, Jimin being their bridge because Lia and Jimin have been friends since last year. Apparently, Lia’s been interested with him for years now; she just never had the chance because like you, Donghyuck also disappeared in and out from Seoul for a couple of years until he’d decided to stay here for good two years ago.

You can’t remember how many shots you had and how many cocktails were handed to you last night, but you wish you had more because it was evidently not enough to erase the scenarios from last night. It wasn’t enough to blur out the memories of Donghyuck holding her, kissing her, dancing with her, and just all out being a lovey-dovey boyfriend.

It’s a relief that you got home safely. There was no designated driver because the plan was to really get drunk, so Jaehyun had one of his employees drive everyone to Chenle’s penthouse because it’s the closest. You hope the others returned to Jeno’s place safely, too.

You stay still from where you’re lying down, eyes up on the ceiling, wondering what time it is. There was no plan for today aside from wedding rehearsal at six in the evening to make sure everything’s all set for tomorrow, so you reckon you have the entire day to get rid of your hangover.

You roll over to your side, facing the television, and the clock tells you it’s eleven in the morning. Renjun is snoring away from the other couch, and you remember letting Minjeong sleep on your bed for the night. You’re staring at Renjun’s sleeping form when someone on the carpeted floor suddenly rolls over, allowing you to see their face.

Donghyuck’s sleeping on the floor beside the couch, body parallel to yours so you can see his peaceful sleeping face, mouth slightly agape. He’s now sleeping on his back, head supported by one of the cushions, body covered with his jacket from last night. You remember parting ways with him with him last night. He’d taken a taxi with Lia back to her place while the rest of you went home in Jaehyun’s SUV. You don’t remember him coming back here.

You stare at him for as long as you can, because in the last three days in Seoul, you’d never really gotten the chance to get a good look on him. You and him don’t follow each other from any social media, so the last four years had truly been radio silence from both sides. Donghyuck, at 27, doesn’t look like he’s aged that much, albeit his round cheeks being gone, replaced by prominent cheekbones. It looks like he never bothered to get rid of the constellations forming on his face and neck, too, because they’re still here, just like many things that haven’t changed. Donghyuck used to love dyeing his hair crazy colors, now his hair is just colored naturally. His lips, wonder if they still taste the same.

“He’s going to melt,” Renjun says suddenly, you plop your head back to the couch, guilty for staring too long. Renjun sits up, stretching and laughing at your misery. “And you’re going to have a heart attack if you keep sneaking glances and getting caught. How many times has Jisung caught you in the last 72 hours?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, getting up and stretching as well. “What do you want to eat for breakfast?”

You carefully get off from the couch, making sure you don’t topple on Donghyuck’s sleeping body, draping the blanket over his body, walking towards Chenle’s fancy kitchen. Renjun helps you, rummaging through the fridge, and comes up with a breakfast menu with whatever you had in the kitchen.

Donghyuck wakes up before you and Renjun could finish cooking everything. He’s quiet when he approaches you in the kitchen, softly asking if you could make coffee for him. You don’t say no, of course.

“This is the most disgusting cup of coffee, I’ve had my entire life,” Donghyuck complains, leaning over the counter where you’re working on the opposite side of. “Stop jeopardizing the café’s reputation. You’re not some scientist so stop mixing concoctions from hell just to brag that you’re a part-time barista and a full-time college student. You make me sick. Literally.”

You ignore all of it, of course, eyebrows furrowed as you take another sip of the quote and quote disgusting coffee, trying to figure out what went wrong this time.

“I think it needs a bit more vanilla,” you think out loud.

“I will not join you in this stupid crusade of making your own “Barista’s Special” recipe,” he continues. “And I will tell your manager you’re wasting coffee!”

“Aha!” you exclaim when you think you got it right. “Maybe I need to level the grounds better and add another pump of vanilla. Let me try that. It should taste better.”

Donghyuck chuckles as you move around and attempt to make another cup. “You’ve been saying it should taste better since last week.”

He keeps complaining, but takes the new cup of coffee as soon as you’re done.

Donghyuck drinks.

You wait.

It still tastes disgusting.

“It’s sweet,” Donghyuck comments when he drinks it. You tilt your head. Renjun is finishing up on the scrambled eggs. You hear Minjeong come out of your room.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask, hopeful.

Donghyuck shakes his head, chuckling. “Better than the ones you made when we were in university.”

“Hey!” you laugh. “I was awarded employee of the month once!”

“That doesn’t erase the fact that you forced me to drink your disgusting concoctions for three weeks straight,” he states, making you laugh even more. “I guess, all these years you’d learned what you were missing.”

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble against Donghyuck’s chest. “The internship will just be for a few months. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck kisses the top of your head. “When you come back,” he mutters. “When you come back, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You freeze.

“And you’ll say yes. And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

You pull away a little so that you’re looking at him face to face. Donghyuck has tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You wipe it off with the sleeves of his jacket you’re wearing.

“I’ll say yes,” you promise. “And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

A woman’s voice announces your flight number once again and says the gates are closing in five minutes. Donghyuck kisses you in the mouth—a promise—and tells you he loves you.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” you say. “I love you, too.”

“Come back home to me, yeah?”

“I will.”

Yours and Donghyuck’s favorite restaurant was located two blocks away from his parents’ home. It closed a few years ago when its owner passed away and his children were too heartbroken to keep the business running. It was a staple from your entire high school life, and if you could say it, it defined your standards when it comes to food.

You’d just gotten a call from home that your childhood pet had to be put down because of old age and many diseases, and you called in sick for work—thank God, Johnny was willing to cover for you otherwise the manager would’ve rejected your request to stay at home for the day—and you’re truly not in the mood for anything at all.

You haven’t been home for quite sometime now, the last time being the holidays and you normally just spend a couple of days before heading back to the campus, so everything really sucks. You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

Donghyuck hears this from Jimin, of course, because your roommate called him as soon as she heard you crying from your room. He literally carries you out of your room, says grieving is better when there’s food.

As soon as you see the person standing behind the counter, you recognize the place right away. Although located in a different street now, nearby where you are, the place looks exactly the same from when it did years ago.

“Y/N! Donghyuckie!” the lady behind the counter greets.

“Oh my,” you squeal. “Auntie, I didn’t know you’re back in business! How long has it been?”

The new owner, the late owner’s eldest daughter, smiles at you and tells you they re-opened sometime this year. She tells you to find a seat and confirms she knew your order by heart.

Donghyuck sits across you. “You like it?”

“Why did you not take me here sooner?”

He smiles. “Supposedly on your birthday a couple of weeks from now. But with what happened today, I guess this is the best time.”

“You’re the best.”

It’s Jisung and Chenle who find you and Donghyuck by the pool area hours later. Donghyuck had completely fallen asleep on your shoulder. The younger ones help you and practically carry Donghyuck towards the car.

Jaemin and Jeno have left the venue so they could prepare for their flight the next day. You hadn’t paid much attention to the time when Donghyuck drunkenly approached you. Jisung tells you it’s already two in the morning.

Chenle tells you Donghyuck had broken up with Lia—the reason, he’s uncertain—which is why she stormed off from the reception and Donghyuck decided to drink his ass off while you were wandering around the place. You shrug, acknowledging the news like it doesn’t make your heart race, like it doesn’t give you some sort of hope you didn’t know you had stored, and tell them they should take him home.

Jisung says Donghyuck lives on the other side of the city, so it’s best you all head back to Chenle’s.

Jisung and Chenle share the latter’s bed, and you’re not going to let Donghyuck sleep on the couch after he had complained about his back hurting when he’d fallen asleep on the floor the other day, so it’s only right that you let Jisung and Chenle carry him to your bed.

When you wake up on the couch the next day, Donghyuck’s shoes are no longer by the doorsteps.

His footsteps are loud.

“Donghyuck, this isn’t going to work if you don’t fucking give me a chance to explain!” You scream a few feet behind Donghyuck.

Donghyuck is running away, and you’re beginning to think that convincing him to go to the gym might not have been the greatest decision because Donghyuck is literally sprinting, like he’s being chased by something so terrifying.

You almost stop. Donghyuck, who always called him home, never ran away from you all these years. Not, it looks like he’d rather be anywhere but where you. Nothing feels worse than that.

You’d just gotten back from your internship in the US, one more term and you’re graduating. The internship was easily the best thing that’s happened to you this year. They were already thinking of offering you a contract as soon as you graduate. They let you go back home, of course, to complete your degree, and said they’d be willing to keep training you in the states and have you relocate to Europe once you graduate because they’ll be expanding their business out there.

It's also the night of Donghyuck's first showcase, the first show he's headlining along with musicians and artists from different universities. You had promised Donghyuck you’d watch and support him, but things doesn't always go on your favor, because as soon as you’d landed, you were needed back to the campus for an interview for the university’s publishing team because they wanted you to talk about your experience alongside the others who went to the states to complete their internship. It was supposed to be an hour session, but you and everyone in the panel liked the questions they were asking, and somehow you felt like this was a sign that the company in the US could lead to better, brighter things for you.

Hence, you were late. Halfway through the show. Donghyuck got mad, but promised he understood. He asked for some space, at least for the rest of the night. But you wanted to apologize properly, to take him out for dinner even if it's already past midnight, and insisted that you should talk about it. Donghyuck refused, you kept insisting, until the former said something about you being a shitty girlfriend.

It’s a shitty excuse, but you were absolutely fucking tired. You’re still jetlagged from the 16-hour difference, and the entire session with your fellow interns took two hours of your day.

What you had left for the day was so little, and you chose to spend it with Donghyuck, but he decided to be an ass about it.

"I never said anything about being your girlfriend," was your dumb reply, which is why you’re now running after him from the building of Chenle’s condominium.

You pull Donghyuck with force as soon as you catch up with him, and you’re faced with your worst fear.

Donghyuck is crying. He’s never cried before, not because of you. A deep painful breath comes out of your mouth, and it hurts when you breathe, like inhaling a cloud of smoke or being hit by a ball in the back. Donghyuck keeps crying, doesn’t even hide it. He sobs and heaves and he doesn’t wipe his tears.

"Donghyuck, can you just—”

“I’m tired,” Donghyuck sobs. “Y/N, I’m so tired. I sound pathetic and I’m not sure if I’m exhausted from the performance or I’m just done with you.”

“I’m sorry,” is all what you could come up with.

“This,” Donghyuck says, gesturing the small space between you. “I don’t think it’s worth all of the pain I am feeling right now, Y/N. You’re my best friend. I—I, fuck, I used to think that maybe someday this will all be worth it, but I am tired of waiting for that day. I am drained and you have consumed all of me. I waited for you, and I keep waiting until you finally just—let go and decide you want to be with me and stop playing this never-ending game of friends with benefits bullshit we started. I’m done. What else do you want from me?”

“I—I… Donghyuck,” you stutter. I want you to give me a chance. I want you to give me more time to figure some things out myself. I want you to wait a little longer.

"I rejected Ryujin a week before you came home,” Donghyuck confesses. "When you were in the states, and you suddenly changed your mind about being my girlfriend and told me I should go out and date other people and that I shouldn’t hold myself back, I was angry. I didn’t understand why you were pushing me away so much when I’m here!”

You stay still, crying.

“I’m here,” he repeats. “I’m here and I love you, and I’ve never asked anything in return. And you tell me you love me, but you do things that—that hurt me. Every time I think we’re finally going somewhere, you—you push back and I’m just—I’m sick of it. And Jaemin said I should just move on if you can’t make up your mind because I don’t know if you haven’t realized it but Y/N, we’ve been at it for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jeno and Jaemin set me up with Ryujin,” he continues. “We went to a couple of dates. And then you called me saying you’re coming back home. So, I broke it off before we even got started. I told her it would be unfair if I kept leading her on when I know that I am still ridiculously in love with you. She said it would be alright and that she's giving me all the time and space I need to think about things."

Donghyuck curses and continues, "But I didn't need time and space, Y/N. Because I already knew that all I've ever wanted was you. I didn't need to think. I only needed you."

You don’t know what to say. You’re still holding him by his arm.

“If you're not going to say anything, let me go,” Donghyuck sternly says. You have a feeling it’s not the grip on his arm that Donghyuck is talking about. “Please.”

The single biggest mistake of your life happened on the third street from Chenle’s place, under the broken streetlight, across the ice cream parlor Donghyuck used to work at when he was seventeen.

You let him go. Donghyuck stops waiting.

The wait from the audience was long enough.

They say your graduation day is going to be one of the happiest moments in your life. It’s not. Not at all.

Not when you’d gotten your diploma on stage and Donghyuck shows you he doesn’t give a fuck by looking everywhere else. Not when it’s picture taking time with your friends and families and he decides to stand on the other side, far, far away from you. Not when his parents ask him to take a picture with you and he shrugs it off and says he’s hungry and that he’s meeting everyone at the restaurant, leaving with his entire family.

Renjun whispers, “Does he even know you’re leaving first thing in the morning?”

You shrug it off, too. “Looks like he has other things to care about.”

Jaemin sighs. “You’re not serious about this, are you? You and Donghyuck better pull your shit together. Both of you already ruined the moment for everyone.”

Renjun eyes him. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. If Donghyuck doesn’t want to listen, then so be it.”

“It’s not Donghyuck’s fault either,” Jaemin defends. “Because he’s been trying to get answers and you wouldn’t give it to him. So, I don’t think it’s his fault that he’s done.”

“We’re not picking sides here, Jaemin,” Jeno says. “Let’s go.”

Jeno and Jaemin sandwiches you in a tight hug.

The next day after the wedding, in the afternoon, the newlyweds are bound to France for their honeymoon. They’re traveling the continent for two weeks (unfortunately, London excluded from their itinerary), and all of you decided to drop them off as if they’re leaving for years. In your case, this may be the last time you’re seeing them for a long time.

“I love you,” Jaemin says as the two very strong and buff men hug you. “I know things have been tough and coming back here took a lot from you, but thank you for making sure you were present during the wedding.”

“I hope this isn’t the last time in another four years that we’d see you in person,” Jeno adds. “We miss you, you know? Please come visit us when you have time.”

“I love you two so much,” you cry, emotional with the way they’re holding you. “Go have fun.”

They bid their goodbyes to everyone else and enter the airport.

“If I don’t get the same treatment when I leave, I’m ghosting everyone,” Mark announces. Jisung laughs. “What? You all acted like they’re going away for two years. They’re coming back in literally and exactly two weeks!”

“Go be unhappy somewhere, hyung,” Donghyuck teases, making everyone laugh as you all walk back to where their cars are parked.

Chenle needs to go back to work, so did Jimin and Jisung, hence they ride all together. Minjeong’s visiting a friend, so she’s riding with Mark and Renjun because they’re all going to the same side of the city. Which means, Donghyuck is driving you back to Chenle’s place.

“Your flight is tomorrow, too, right?” Mark asks. You hum, nodding. “Come visit me in Vancouver sometime soon, too. Or I’ll fly to London.”

“Wow, you have a lot of money to spend on flying around the world multiple times, huh?” you tease.

“Hey, you’re the frequent flyer here,” he comments. “Wonder how many miles you’ve earned and redeemed from all this flying you’ve done in this lifetime.”

You laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mark.”

Renjun and the others bid you goodbye. You’re not really certain why you and Donghyuck silently agreed to watch your friends leave, you and him standing a foot away from each other as they all drive away. For some reason, it feels like the last time.

The first time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s an accident.

You were drunk, and it had been a while for the two of you considering how busy you both have been because of finals coming up. It was convenient, if you say so yourself, to have your best friend right beside you when you were feeling hot and horny. The morning after was settled with a kiss on your forehead—no apologies as discussed, because neither you nor him regretted it anyway, but there’s a promise that nothing changes.

The second time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s not going to be a one-time thing.

“So, to make it clear,” you huff as you quickly get rid of your pants while Donghyuck pulls his shirt off. “This isn’t a one-time thing.”

“I don’t see an issue if it’s not,” he replies, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, pushing you against the wall and kissing you down your neck. “Besides, we’re best friends.”

You lean your head against the wall, thinking if it’s too late to back out, but Donghyuck’s already has his hands all over you—one on your breast and the other on your waist. It’s not really that bad of an idea. Donghyuck is your best friend, and your friendship has withstood time, distance, growing pains, and mostly everything. And perhaps it’s the way you haven’t stopped thinking about your first time together that’s making you feel so, so vulnerable under his touch, but it’s not like anything’s changed since that night. In fact, if you’re being completely honest, it made you feel like you and Donghyuck know each other better now—in ways that other pairs like you don’t.

Hence, whatever thought you had a minute ago, you throw it down the drain and you let Donghyuck (messily, heartedly giggling) carry you by hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist and bring you back to his unmade bed.

Donghyuck knows how to use his tongue, and you’ve kind of always known because all the girls he’s ever slept with talk about him like he’s a god of tongue or something. Donghyuck licks your lips before diving in, as if he’s giving you a taste of what you’re about to have, and he pushes his tongue in, massaging it with yours, and it almost feels like he’s teaching you how to use the muscle in your mouth. You realize how much he likes kissing, because he kisses more than he touches. He kisses you for what felt like hours, and you’re not about to complain about it.

You let him gently drop you on his bed. His warm palms caressing its way from your waist down to the side of your thighs where he knows you like being touched the most (and you’re not certain whether he’d learned this from stories or from the time you and him had sex); Donghyuck keeps his mouth on you as he rubs circles against your hot skin.

The finger he slips between your underwear and right above your clit sends you shivers down your spine. He allows you to catch your breath for a second, moving his mouth from your lips down to your neck, but doesn’t give you enough time to recover because he rubs your clit oh, so gently.

“We’re best friends,” he repeats, murmuring the words against the skin on your neck. “Nothing changes, except now I know where to touch you.”

He does. He touches you everywhere and slips his middle finger in your hole, sighing against your skin when he feels how wet you’ve gotten simply from kissing.

“You’ve always been such a good girl for me,” he whispers, keeping his finger inside, his palm pressed against your clit. “Such a good girl. Wet and ready for me. You really are my best friend.”

“Donghyuck,” you whine. He starts rubbing from inside, moving a single finger in an upward motion, eliciting a moan from you.

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are. You are my best friend. I don’t think everyone can say they let their best friends fuck them when they’re horny. Which makes me the best best friend, too. Because I fuck the brains out of you when you’re horny. Aren’t we the best team the world has ever seen?”

Donghyuck slips another finger in—easily, because nothing can describe how we you are now. He tongues the skin on your collarbone, licking and tasting and smirking all throughout, then he fingers you properly. At this point, your underwear’s stretched from one thigh to the other.

Donghyuck likes to tease you, and you know this because he massages the inside of your hole in a swift upward motion before pulling his fingers out and slowly filling you again. He does this slowly, then fast, then slowly once again. The explicit sound of your wetness makes him chuckle, leaving your collarbones and using his other hand to pull the left cup of your bra down and goes in. He bites and nips and licks and sucks your breast while he fingers you stupid—legs apart, shamelessly wet and fucking ready for him—and you take everything he gives you.

He doesn’t make you cum though, because Donghyuck is Donghyuck. Nobody is more cunning than him.

But he doesn’t make you wait. As soon as he feels you’re about to cum, he slips his fingers out and rids himself off his own underwear, then slipping the last two pieces barely hanging on your body.

He fucks you dumb. Raw. All his glory and skin. You have no other words aside from that.

He doesn’t wait because there’s truly no need to adjust with how wet and ready you fucking are. He’s big, but Donghyuck knows how to fuck well. He knows how to prevent discomfort and he’s done a very good job at proving that to you.

He fucks you missionary, and usually, this isn’t something you’d opt for. You like being fucked hard with no sense of affection and all that bullshit when you’re stressed and in need of some kind of relief. But with Donghyuck, it’s heavenly despite how sinful his hips snap.

He fucks you. Again and again. He makes you cum twice before he pulls out and spills himself on your stomach.

He kisses you, giggles at the way you’re dumbfounded, cleans you up, and lets you sleep on his bed as though nothing has changed.

Because nothing did. Nothing ever will.

“Funny how things have changed so much in the last four years, huh?” Donghyuck asks, eyes on the road.

Donghyuck’s said he’s driving you home. You haven’t been in Seoul in four years, but the route he’s taking is definitely not the way to Chenle’s.

“We’re taking the long way home,” he interjects when he realizes you’re looking at the GPS on his car’s tablet. “There’s, uh, heavy traffic on the usual way because of some road construction. And you’re going back tomorrow. You haven’t really gone around the city, so I figured it’d be a good time.”

You hum, looking at him with a small smile.

“Sure,” you buy. “It feels like only yesterday you were driving a beat-up Hyundai. Now, you’re all fancy.”

He chuckles, turning as his car speeds through the bridge. “Well, many things have changed since you left.”

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: Seoul’s horizon running like a movie as he drives, smile soft, eyes bright.

“I’m sorry,” you brave up.

It takes you great courage to say it out loud. As best friends, you and Donghyuck had always said “thank you,” and “I love you” openly, and in countless of occasions, these words have healed scratches made around your friendship. Rarely you and him would ever say you’re sorry. The only time you can remember apologizing to him was the night, a few weeks before graduation when you’d just returned from the States after your internship. That sorry barely made up the wounds you’d caused.

At this age, you understand why saying sorry wasn’t normal for you and Donghyuck. You and him were inseparable. You were soulmates—are if you can bravely say it out loud. Your bond is stronger with him than anyone else, and you’d always believed that nothing could ever come between you and him. Like the decisions you’d made, nothing changed until something did. And when things changed, you and him had no idea what to do. Because as far as you can remember, you and Donghyuck remained constant, like a routine, a bible with a comprehensive and cohesive series of stories that’s never changed. So, when feelings got in between—denial and pining and confusion—neither of you had any idea how to handle it.

Donghyuck was bold and brave. You, on the other hand, had no ounce of courage to give it a try.

He only smiles. “A few years too late, don’t you think?”

You nod. “I know. Do you accept my apology?”

“If you buy me ice cream,” he answers.

“Done,” you say, smiling back at him. “I was scared.”

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on the road. “Of?”

“That I’d come back to Seoul and see you married with kids and all.”

“And what’s so scary about that?”

“Because it would mean I’d thrown away all the chances the universe has given me.”

Donghyuck looks ethereal like this: in a suit, smiling as he watches his bride walk down the aisle.

“Take care, yeah?” Renjun whispers as he hugs you.

Mark’s Dad and Mark himself are waiting for you outside. As most of your friends have gone home to their families after graduation, with the exception of Renjun and Jisung who spared some time today just to see you off, Mark volunteered (his dad) to drop you off the airport.

“I will,” you say, burying your face into his chest. “Any word from Donghyuck?”

Renjun pulls away and looks down. You know the answer.

“It’s okay,” you answer, mostly to yourself. “He’ll call me back soon. I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Renjun mumbles.

The only call you get before you enter the gates is a drunken one. It’s Donghyuck.

“I hate you,” he grits through the device. “And I never want to see you again.”

“I didn’t want to come back,” you confess. Donghyuck keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “Because you’d said you never wanted to see me again.”

“And I sent you messages you never received,” Donghyuck says. It surprises you. “Because your Korean number was no longer active and you’d blocked me from everything at that time.”

You smile, wondering if you had a little bit more understanding—if you had waited a little before deactivating your old number, if you had given it some time—would you and Donghyuck end up together in the end? If Donghyuck hadn’t been drunk the night you left Seoul—if he’d taken a taxi before you boarded the plane, if he’d just said sorry back—would you and him have gotten into a relationship right away?

Regret, just like grief, makes you feel things like this. They make you wonder what could have happened, if it would’ve given you the same, awful outcome, or if it would take you to the happy ending you keep dreaming about.

“Funny how we had many things we couldn’t say despite us being best friends,” he comments. “And you agree that many things have changed in the last four years, right?”

You hum, looking out your window, watching the horizon blur in motion.

“Donghyuck-ah,” you whisper, eyes still on the moving horizon. “The only thing that hasn’t changed for me.”

“What?” he asks.

“You,” you say. “You’re the only one that hasn’t changed for me. You’re still sharp when you need to be, but gentle where people you love need you to be. You’re still beautiful like the day I had realized I loved you. It wasn’t shocking, though. That day. I wasn’t all too shocked that your newly-dyed pink hair was the eureka moment for me. Because I knew all along. It was more like a flick on the wrist rather than a surprise. Like it’s always been there. The pink hair was just a reminder.”

Donghyuck stays quiet.

“And I say this like I’m hoping I could go back to four years ago and try harder to apologize,” you continue, tears already brimming your eyes. “But I guess we needed this, Donghyuck. We needed to grow—sadly—apart. And I feel like, no, I know that I wouldn’t have gotten to know myself better if we didn’t grow apart.”

“Yeah,” he speaks for what seems like a long time. “We were—you were right all along. We couldn’t just risk it all for a relationship. I had offers left and right even before we’d graduated, and you.”

You look at him. Donghyuck’s eyes are carefully still on the road, but his gaze is soft, eyes shining from the tears welling up.

“You were made to see the world,” he says, and it breaks you like glass. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I were the reason why you don’t have the life you have now. Because it wouldn’t have worked. I love you, and I just know that at that time, when we were young and all, I wouldn’t have let you go work abroad. The few months you spent in the state for a mere internship already shook our friendship in ways we didn’t expect. What more if we had been in a relationship?”

“Donghyuck,” you sniffle. “I love you. And it hurt. And I’m sorry it us this long. I’m sorry it took me this long.”

“Stop apologizing. Y/N, I would’ve let you go eventually,” he confesses. “Because I love you so much that I’d be willing to let you go if it meant you could soar.”

The sun sets in the horizon the next time you look out your window.

Donghyuck keeps one hand on the wheel and shows you the other, palm up.

You take it with courage.

And you. You look beautiful like this: dressed in white, smiling as you walk towards your groom. You best friend. Donghyuck.

493 notes · View notes

ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 3 months

Text

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Me: i think pre-journey Sun Wukong is an alcoholic

Hello yes, as previously stated, on my first re-read of jttw, this time reading it out-loud to my brothers and I gotta say i’m noticing WAY more this round. It’s slow going but we just read chapter 5 and I have not stopped thinking about it. (This is completely unedited and written in one sitting after cleaning for like four hours so forgive me for my grammar mistakes or any misremembered stuff, I’m swirling thoughts around in my head like orange juice in a wine glass.)

Chapter five is when he gains the title of Great Sage Equalling Heaven, gets the job of peach watcher, eats said peaches, crashing the banquet, drinking the wine, eating the pills, heading back to FFM, heaven surrounding Flower Fruit Mountain and basically laying siege and the subsequent battle. All the Yaoguai generals get captured and the only ones who are left are The Great Sage and his monkeys. As I’m reading this out loud to my brothers, I notice there’s a tone shift. To be honest I thought I was imaging it but MAN this is where Monkey King changes. Like, up to this point, he’s been pretty chill in all honesty. He’s thrown his weight around, he’s been a little unhinged, but there’s been a childlike wonder about him and just a genuineness in everything he does. He’s loved learning, he's loved people, he’s loved making friends. Even at the start of the chapter, he just loves hanging out with the celestial deities that they don’t think he should be socializing with, hence why they give him a job.

And the rest of the chapter he’s just drinking. He just keeps going and going and laughing and laughing. And he shares the wine with his monkeys and his demon brethren and when heaven comes knocking and his monkeys are panicked he waves them away. The mountain is surrounded? We’re being threatened? It’s fine, it’s fine, have another cup! Have another cup! He keeps drinking until they break his door down, and like a drunkard he stumbles to his feet yelling about how rude that is and goes and beats them easily. Because he’s so immortal now he can drink as much as he wants and get drunk enough on immortal wine that he should be dead but all it does is make him more and more immortal and more and more drunk. He’s different at this point. The tone shift is the most prominent when he comes back and his monkeys tell him all the yaoguai sworn brethren and their armies and people have been captured. They cry and then they laugh because he is unharmed as ever and they’ve lost everyone else. And from once caring about the community and those under his rule, suddenly the Great Sage’s reply is that it’s fine because no monkeys were taken. Let’s eat and sleep. And drink. He has no concept of when or how to stop. He drinks wine.

Then he gets his hand on the immortal wine. And, listen. He’s already gotten the peaches by this point. He’s a little off already, but he still has that just… lack of object permanence that he always has when he’s in heaven, but he still seems pretty Monkey King. Up until the wine. Then things start to shift. He gets his hands on the immortal wine and he gorges himself on it. He’s already taken the best of the best of the peaches and left the rest, likely because they can’t compare. And now he’s gotten the best of the best wine. The best of the immortal, celestial, heavenly wine. You cannot get better. And he just keeps drinking it. He drinks until he’s so drunk he gets lost on his way back to the peach orchard. He’s so drunk he stumbles into Lao Tsu’s palace and just… eats immortal pills like fried beans. Just pops three gourds of it into his mouth one by one until they’re gone. He was so drunk that once he starts to sober up, he panics a little. He panics and he leaves. He runs back home because he knows he’ll be in trouble. And when he gets back home, a couple centuries have passed and they throw a party like always to welcome him back, having been dutifully waiting for him the whole time. And he tastes the wine and it’s disgusting to him. His monkeys tell him he’s tasted heavenly food and wine, nothing on the mountain can compare to that now. And without even a second thought, he goes right back to the place he just fled from, just barely sobered up, and he steals a bunch of the wine that he didn’t get to and brings it back.

I wonder how much of chapter 5 he spends drunk out of his mind. Just barely sober enough to process his mountain is at war again. He’s so immortal by this point, it’s no wonder he’s so confident he’ll win. He probably feels as immortal as a thousand suns and moons. A couple thousand demons are nothing in the face of that. It’s fine. He was already loud and confident in his power by this point. I still can’t believe the Jade Emperor just put a monkey right next to the most delicious peaches ever and didn’t expect him to eat any of them. Like, genuinely bro wdym you didn't see this coming. That’s like giving a kid their favorite cookies and saying to look after them but don’t eat any of them without giving them an end time frame of when the watching ends or telling them if they get to eat any or not. I have such a rudimentary understanding of jttw at times, I’m not a super deep thinker, I do think about stuff, but other people’s takes are definitely gonna be more complex that mine. Reading chapter five and remembering when he was nabbed and escorted to the afterlife, I can’t help but look at this monkey and think maybe he would have done a few things differently if he was thinking clearly. Because I don’t think he was entirely there during chapter 5. I think he wasn’t focused or thinking about anything beyond beating the guy in front of him and getting back to another cup of heaven. It feels like Sun Wukong is missing. He’s still there, he’s powerful beyond comprehension, but it feels like he’s missing. His return to his monkeys after a battle doesn’t really feel triumphant. I have such a visual of him descending in his armor and looking like a god, untouched and pristine. But he remains untouched, even by their reports of their allies being captured. He feels untouchable.

Most of this is just me rambling, but clearly Sun Wukong had an alcohol problem before chapter five when he pretty much drank himself to an early grave then fought his way back to life. With Immortal wine though, there’s none of that need to end, there’s no hangover, just bliss. And boy does it show. I’m not sure if this was intended in the writing but OUGH I haven’t stopped thinking about the change that comes over Sun Wukong when he gets his hand on the wine. When he’s in heaven that’s all that matters. All that matters is that he has the best of the best. His monkeys are always there and praising him if he ever wants to come back. He doesn't even bother to think about how his absence affects them. He cares that he wasn’t invited to a party. He cares about his monkeys, we know this. But by gosh if he doesn’t feel like an untouchable deity in chapter 5. No wonder this dude felt like he could take on Buddha. I don’t think there’s a minute during the Havoc in Heaven where Sun Wukong is sober. He’s drunk on the agony of immortality. It’s in his bones and not even a furnace used for that very thing can burn it out of him. Sun Wukong is a hundred thousand suns and moons.

But Buddha is everything.

And that’s how he’s beaten.

I’d say a couple hundred years is enough for some of that immortal wine to burn through that monkey’s system. It’s putting him in a, albeit very harsh, time-out. It makes a lot of things make some more sense when I’m thinking about it from the view of an addict. The circlet is about self control. Once he has it, once he’s more at peace, it vanishes on its own because he doesn’t need it anymore. He doesn't need that 30 days sober chip taped onto his forehead to remind him every time he sees his reflection in a bottle. Sun Wukong is very smart, but he doesn’t really bother with self-control. It gets in the way of having fun. He drank wine and didn’t bother with any inhibitions or self-restraint. He did whatever he wanted whenever he wanted however he wanted with whoever he wanted. Why control himself or his cravings or killings or anything of the sort? Drink more wine! Laugh! Have fun! Meet people! Come get drunk with him! Why bother with decorum or etiquette or anything of the sort? He’s fine with how things are until people start to look down on him, and then he feels the need to prove they can’t do that.

Okay, I’m rambling now and thinking about the potential of modern retellings with this kind of approach so I think I’ll end it here for now. I’m just thinking very hard about alcoholic Sun Wukong and am going slightly insane over it. Yeah, other people have probably pointed this out before, it’s probably so common, it’s just my first time really thinking about it and I find it so heckin neat. WHAT A GREAT BOOK YOU GUYS. Alright, enough of that for now, I’ve gotta get ready for bed and do prep stuff for tomorrow so, have a goodnight you guys, Knox out o7

#knox rambles #Sun Wukong | Monkey King #journey to the west #jttw #alcoholic swk #me on my absolute nonesense #im sleepy now #and thinking of modern aus #i have cleaning to do and sleep to get goodnight #ngl i feel like im reading it for the first time this round its really neat #okay peace out

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 9 months

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Love your writing! Could you do Carmy getting drunk for the first time in forever and it just makes him super sweet and clingy

Tipsy

I wouldn't say that it's something big. It's not an aftermath of clubbing or going out to a bar, or pub. All of these places are way too crowded and would only increase Carmen's anxiety. They're not for him and you're equally not that big of a fan of going out either.

I kind of picture it being something along the lines of you two staying even after family is over. Like letting everyone get home earlier because you've not rushing anywhere. So while cleaning the dishes, you decide to open up another bottle of wine. And Carmen has music playing from his phone. Something sweet, and sweet just some piano music. I don't know why but for some reason my brain goes to some whimsical playlist on Spotify - don't ask me why. And you just hum alongside the melody while drying the dishes and you both have these lazy smiles painting both of your faces.

And it's just so good to have this time finally for yourself. Like the restaurant had kicked off, everything is slowly starting to fall into place. You can start to somewhat manage your workdays and your free time. It just genuinely starts to feel normal. Yet the moments when you can be together alone, and just soaking in the presence of each other are still rather rare. Hence this feeling so special even while doing such a mundane task.

And you can tell that Carmen is getting tipsy but also you can't blame him. Alcohol always hits when you are tired and man is running on like three hours of sleep. Let's face it. Add on top of anxiety so it's just an insane mix. But you don't mind it. You're kind of happy that he's getting tipsy and letting go because his shoulders are slumped, but in the lazy kind away, he has somewhat of a light smirk on his face. His hair messy, shirt undone, and he's just absolutely vibing. Something that you haven't seen him do in forever.

End it feels so fragile almost so you don't even comment on and you don't tell him anything, you just kind of watch him. Until he catches your gaze and he gets all smug saying, "Are you checking me out?" And you're just shrugging your shoulders trying to play it off like , "No, why would I?" Carmen turns to you and goes, "Oh, because I have a girlfriend and she's the best of the best" and he laughing , while you're biting your lip as you say, "The best of the best, hm? Tell me more about her".

And he's dropping the plate back in the sink, lazily walking over to you. Hand sneaking onto your hips and you can feel the smell of his cologne and it's already driving you mad. "She got these pretty eyes", he says his fingers softly brushing the hair away from your eyes, "And she got this adorable nose", Carmy taps the tip of your nose, "And her fucking lips. So pretty and so fucking delicious"

You bite your lip in return making Carmen growl, "Do you even know what you're doing to me, woman?", he asks, you're shake your head innocently. "Well, you make me fucking hot and bothered yeah...", his grip on your hips tightens, he's pressing you against the counter and then all of a sudden gripping your bum as he lifts you up. You let out a squeal, but he doesn't go far, he's just placing you carefully on the kitchen counter, arms on either side of you. "You're so beautiful", he mutters. Lost in the way you look. "You're tipsy, bab", you brush some of his loose curls away from his face. "I can be freaking tipsy or as sober as a baby and still, you'd be the most breathtaking woman I've ever seen", he purrs, "How did I get so lucky?" You giggle slightly, "Well, you know... You are pretty good in the kitchen, make some delicious food", you trial off. "Only good in the kitchen, huh?", he raises an eyebrows at you, "I think someone is in desperately needs to be reminded of last night".

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear imagine #the bear x reader #the bear tv show

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echowithpain · 3 months

Text

Dirty suits, wine stain on Oliver/Buck's pants with one of the legs burnt like a marshmallow...

I can not put into words the amount of thoughts and emotions I'm feeling right now. My mind is actually racing...

*dumbass glasses going on*

Chimney's bachelor party is at the beach and something happens, either a fight broke out (dirty suits cause tussle??) or people were drunk (on wine hence the wine stain) and somehow someone gets hurt and in the chaos Buck ends up stepping in the campfire/fire pit to help them out (hence the marshmallow pant leg)

*dumbass glasses coming off*

Idk, I'm tired so all my thoughts are jumbled right now but I'm sure something will come to me later lol

What I DO know is that I need to see these episodes now!!! 😭😭😭😭😭 We're so close y'all! I can taste it!!!

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groenendaelfic · 1 year

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Verbier and Sex Workers

aka the Twinks? Bears? Asians? Latinos? line is not cute (says I)

One thing I love so much about this fandom is that we can all watch the same show on repeat, and still have completely different and equally valid interpretations of canon.

Case in point my recent fic about Erik’s death not being an accident. I never for a single second considered that, and I am still firmly team Erik likes being Crown Prince and is a bit of a fuckboy, but then I saw and eyeopening post here on Tumblr and rewatched the scenes and now I can see where they’re coming from even if I don’t agree? And that is great.

Something similar happened after I posted my most recent chapter of As Long as We Have Each Other (yes it’s back!) featuring jealous!Simon and talks of Verbier, after which quite a few lovely, lovely commenters pointed out that they never considered my interpretation of the Verbier talk before, and so I thought I might share a bit more about it here for those interested.

Anyway, in the show the scene starts with Wille asking Nils about dating advice, to which Nils replies that Wille is overthinking things followed by an invitation to come to Verbier with him where he'll throw some great parties.

So well so good.

Then however comes the (in)famous What are you into? Twinks? Bears? Asians? Latinos? line and a reassurance that they'll be discreet.

That's not Nils asking Wille if he should try and hook him up with one of his twink, bear, Asian or Latino friends so that he can date one of them instead.

That's him telling Wille that no matter what he's into, it can be arranged, without bringing up some hardcore stuff which might scare him away.

Nils doesn't actually think Wille might be into bears, he's just being, hey, you want a twinky Latino? You can get that in Switzerland, but also any other type of guy you might desire and they'll do whatever you want without causing problems or a scandal.

Sure Nils is going to invite other wealthy, closeted friends around his age to hang out and bond with, not unlike a secret club. In fact he very much wants Wille to start hanging with someone that's his league, but they aren't going to hook up with each other, nor would they be looking for a relationship or love, as that would only complicate things, hence Nils going all You're thinking too much. Stop making it difficult. when Wille brings up serious relationships.

something something sexualizing queer relationships something something internalized homophobia

I do think he wants Wille to be as happy as can be and means well, but he also can't see any of them breaking the status quo. His advice is settle down with a suitable girl if you really must, and bang prostitutes abroad who've signed an NDA and know better than to ever blab to satisfy your sexual needs. That's how it's always been done and that's how it'll always be, and anything else will only cause problems.

Also hiring sex workers in Switzerland is very easy and uncomplicated, be it at a brothel, as an escort or for a private party, the only hindrance being cost, but it's not like that's a factor here.

But Wille is sixteen!

Well yeah, but they'd be going to Switzerland, where the age of consent is sixteen. (So in fact was the age of prostitution until about ten years ago, but they thankfully raised that to eighteen, and while there was talk of raising the age for hiring sex workers a few years ago, as far as I know nothing much ever came of it.)

So yeah, Nils wouldn't be doing anything illegal if he invited a sixteen year old to one of his sex parties in Verbier and let him get drunk as long as Wille stuck to beer or wine or something similar because the drinking age is sixteen as well (18 for harder stuff).

I don't blame anyone who wants to see their talk differently, but I don't think I'll ever be able to see it as anything other than sad (for Nils) and horrifying (for Wille being presented this as his only reasonable future).

Especially if you watch Wilhelm's expression there at the end?

Wille knows exactly what Nils is talking about.

He knows there'll be sex workers present if he goes to Verbier with Nils without Nils having to state that explicitly, because in their circles men having their sexual needs seen to by sex workers and mistresses is something that's always been the norm, no matter the nature of said needs, as long as they do so discretely.

Wille doesn't want that, he wants love and he wants Simon, but he also craves physical touch and intimacy, and if sex workers in Verbier are the only option? Well ... it's something he can consider if he wants to.

I'm not saying he would have gone. I'm pretty much undecided when it comes to that, or at least to him going that particular year, who knows about the future had he not gotten back together with Simon, I'm just saying he understood what was on offer and didn't immediately vehemently say no.

(he said I don't think Mom would be very pleased if it got out)

(Source: my grandmother is Swiss and I still have lots of relatives there I visit regularly, including a cousin who worked in a hotel in Davos for well over a decade and who was there for all the drama that ensued when 16yo sex workers were suddenly no longer legal bleurgh, also like, the news etc)

#wilhelm in verbier #nils young royals #prince wilhelm #young royals meta #young royals #random ramblings #fic meta #as long as we have each other

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eggsaladsandwhic · 1 year

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Knives Headcannons (SFW and NSFW)

This is for my upcoming Poly CollegeAU Knives x OC x Vash fanfic and it's 2am and I gotta get my brainwaves out.

SFW and General

Nai is a double major in both Environmental Justice and Science

Likes taking philosophy classes it helps him understand humanity a bit more.

Probably autistic or at least on the spectrum

Is struggling with Bipolar and it hits him hard sometimes

College life is hard when you're a plant and he's trying his best to fit in

Speaking of Plants I've got this weird idea that Nai is definitely like a carnivorous plant (usually some species have barbs or thorns to trap their prey in)

Will not go to parties or bars (...Vash makes him every once and a while, but will not admit to being perceived whatsoever.

Likes fruity and sour wines

Absolute book nerd

Gets end of the semester burnt out depression (me too ngl)

Is the cook of the apartment surprisingly, he has learned to like some human cuisine. He's an alright cook but is a heavy meat and vegetables kinda guy (don't ask him to bake it makes him impatient)

Probably in a couple on campus band ensembles

Gets hit on and flirted with a lot and really hates it

Sleeps only with those soft af blankets and prefers to be cold rather than hot, and he usually needs to hug in his sleep, hence the blankets.

Likes the idea of love, especially a platonic to romantic type of affection

He's just so bitter about the fact that a human would likely never want him for what he really is

Touch adverse but even more touch starved

He's got to like someone for them to even be in his personal bubble

Actions over words

Vash and him both have a Mate for life concept so wanting to choose that special someone is really hard

So many goddamn hair products but the soft hair is worth it

NSFW ⚠️ Below

Okay shifting gears here now for ✨ The Spice✨ (NSFW)

Big dick energy - thinking around 8.5 hard

Prehensile penis and def looking like a softly barbed tentacle

Petals like a flowering butterwort, white to purple

Back to my carnivorous plant idea but this man is FERAL in bed - bites and makes plenty of noises

Aphrodisiac pre-cum, topical and ingestible

VIRGIN (this man hates people with a firey passion)

However does own one of those clear Fleshlights especially if he goes into rut

Has to go a couple rounds otherwise he feels frustrated even on a normal night

Amazing stamina and recovery time

Has a medium sex drive but the more stressed out the lower it is

This man has to Top, he'd really have to trust his partner to bottom and lose control like that (BUT THATS EXACTLY WHAT HE'S LOOKING FOR)

Don't let him get pussy drunk it's a bad idea for either party

Since I'm going for at least semi-realistic sex (especially with a dimensional being) in this fic I'll be honest and say he would accidentally hurt you and it crushes his soul

As much as I love self indulgent smut I think a human would have a hard time keeping up with a horny plant

Would bite either way too hard, overstimulate you too much, accidentally flung one of his knives into your side, started going marathon mode and having to literally slap him out of it

Usual kinks- Praise, hair pulling, breeding, choking, Size kink

Unusual - Blood, prey/predator dynamic

Wrote till I needed to sleep oopsies anyways please fill my brain with more ideas I'm begging 🙏

#trigun #millions knives #knives x reader #fanfic #headcanon #trigun smut #trigun stampede

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beauty-and-passion · 7 hours

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This is going to sound really strange but the most recent GRWM video has. Some of the best Janus characterisation I think we’ve seen in a while?? Also he canonically sheds now, so

You are not wrong, anon: this is the best characterization in a while. It's way better than the last one, in which Janus was mostly a drunk idiot, and it's way worse than SvS. This one sits in the middle: it's not bad, it's not amazing. It's good.

Just like Mr. Sanders' last videos regarding Sanders Sides, this GRWM is okay. Not groundbreaking, not impressive, not deep, not stupid. Just okay.

And trust me, this is the best possible outcome! When I found out Thomas was planning a video with Janus and it was a GRWM and Janus had questions to answer... I wasn't just scared, oh no. I was absolutely terrified. I feared to see the destruction of Janus' character. I feared to see him being all like: "YASSS QUEEN all I love is WINE and nothing else, also being SASSY is my religion BIATCH".

And we got a bit of that, sure. But it was a bit, not the avalanche I expected. I was bearable.

After all, this is just a random video. There's nothing plot-related here. Heck, there's not even too much Sanders Sides stuff, because this GRWM clearly was Thomas' attempts to reconnect with the character. I shouldn't care too much about it. I shouldn't overanalyze it.

But you know me: you know I love to over-analyze. And if you know me, you also know that Remus is my favorite child, but Janus has a special place in my heart and if one little thing about him is off I will start rambling.

Hence why I will overanalyze the shit out of these 9 minutes of a video and I will do what I shouldn't do, i.e. look back into the past's characterization. Not for shaming Mr. Sanders for not remembering it (even if the videos still exist and he can watch them too if he wants), but to remind you all of Janus' personality. The public needs to remember what kind of character he was and who he became.

So I'll over-analyze everything and no, you can't escape. You're stuck with me here, so put your seatbelt on, because you're in for one of the things I love the most: talking about Janus.

The importance of nuance

Let's talk about make-up a little bit. Don't worry, by the end you will understand my point.

The current make-up isn't even comparable to the past one. And if a lot of people complain about it and prefer the old one, it's not because they're all demanding: it's because of nuances.

Let me explain and let's start with the current photo Mr. Sanders showed to promote the GRWM video:

If you look at this make-up, your eyes will inevitably be drawn towards that sharp black line. And as soon as you will look at it, you will immediately register it as a drawn line.

It's so clear and so evident it's a line, I can literally see the black liquid eyeliner, the tip and the hand tracing that line on Thomas' skin.

But this line isn't supposed to be a line: it's supposed to be/resemble a snake's mouth.

Now, look at the past make-up:

The line isn't sharp black: the line is nuanced. You can see a bit of brown and a hint of red/pink to give it depth and emphasize the shadow.

Also, this color is very similar to the little shadow given by Thomas' upper lip on the lower one, so it looks more natural against his skin tone. It doesn't seem like something added on him, but on something that was already part of him. And isn't that the goal of make-up? To add something and disappear, so people won't notice it exists in the first place?

Look at the eye as well: the past one is a softer, more nuanced pink. It looks more natural, against Thomas' skin tone. The present one is so dark, it looks more like a bad bruise.

So the problem with the current make-up isn't just that the colors aren't the same: it's that the current colors are too much. They're too sharp, too saturated and, consequently, too fake. It's clear that Thomas wears make-up, while in the past the blend was softer, the colors closer to Thomas' actual complexion. Consequently, the make-up faded and gave us an illusion of reality.

I know Mr. Sanders had skin conditions and everything, but I'm talking about colors and nuances here. Two things a make-up artist should know better than me, an idiot on the Internet who loves art, color theory and learns from artists on the web. You can obtain these things independently of the used products.

So my opinion on the make-up would be: please Mr. Sanders, switch for softer tones, no sharp black and no coral. Too much. Nuance is the key.

And not just for make-up.

---

The fakeness of reality tv

Janus enjoys reality television because nothing about it is real. His specific words are:

I very much enjoy reality television: the scheming, the plotting, the lying. Every person for himself and even on top of that, all of the production none of reality television is actually real. It's just delightful.

I get the idea behind it and I understand why Thomas thought it was a good choice. On paper, it works: Janus should enjoy this kind of show because it's made of lies and he's Deceit.

But if I follow this line of thought, I inevitably meet with Janus from Into the Unknown:

[Patton]: Well yeah I guess you'd like it, everyone all dressed up, disguised as someone else... [Janus]: How is it we've had so many of these visits and you still know so little about me?

Janus himself said that not everything associated with lies is something he enjoys. And it makes sense, because Logan too said the same thing in the last Aside:

"Is that all I am to you? The reading guy?"

So now I'm asking: why does he like reality tv? Just because it's fake? Then why is he so happy about it being fake? Reality tv should represent reality, it should mirror how society works. And thanks to SvS, we know Janus doesn't hold society into high consideration:

[Deceit]: Society itself is a lie! (...) You get enough people to share a piece of land and breathe the same air and... you've got a society. Why? It's just a bunch of people in the same general area. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed! But we obey these rules or get punished for breaking them. All in the name of society. It's absurd and terrifying.

Just like society, reality tv has a group of people put together and they make a society. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed. And these people must obey the rules or get punished for breaking them.

And yet, Janus doesn't think reality tv is "absurd and terrifying", but "delightful".

Again: why does he like it? Why does he like something so similar to what he hates most?

Maybe you can live with the "It's fake" explanation and that's good for you. But what if instead of liking reality tv because "it's fake", Janus likes it, because it perfectly mirrors the flaws and the emptiness of society? What if he enjoys it, because he loves the irony of society using its own means to unmask itself and show its real face? What if he watches it, not because "it's delightful", but because it's bittersweet to see such an inability to understand your own flaws?

Which explanation do you think is more fitting for his character?

---

Remus eats glue sticks

Of course he does. His digestive system is probably able to digest molten lava, so glue sticks are a walk in the park for him, bless his chaotic soul <3

(Have I already said Remus is my favorite boi?)

---

The possibilities of shedding

Okay, the "Have you considered not having pores?" is hilarious and I love it on multiple levels.

Well, here we are. Janus sheds, two to four times a year. And I know the fandom went crazy over this and I'm happy for you... but I never really cared too much about it.

I mean: it's fine, but I can't really think of anything truly special to headcanon about it. Snakes shed their skin all the time and they just chill around, while slowly peeling their skin off. It's not dangerous, it doesn't hurt, it's just exfoliation time✨. I mean, does it hurt you, when you remove sunburnt skin? Don't think so. The worst thing for snakes is probably not being able to take the skin off with hands, since they don't have hands.

But hey, this is canon now, so I should probably integrate it in my headcanon. And I can do it in two different ways:

The shedding is just part of Janus' routine: twice a year he gets one day off, takes a reeeeally long bath and slowly peels off his skin until he's done.

I can take inspiration from this fanart and imagine the shedding as a real "leaving your body behind" process, in which Janus slowly gets submerged into his room and re-emerges as a form of pure power and instincts, which then solidifies into a new body. I think I like this idea more, because when I go with Janus, I need something that makes him look either more god-like or more monster-like.

And since we're talking about snake traits, how many more does he have? Because I already added a few on my list, like:

sunbathing

climbing trees

laying everywhere (especially on trees)

taking long relaxing baths

And I'm just waiting for an excuse to add "mating". But I suppose only future will tell.

---

What you don't like

"An important aspect of being oneself, in addition to knowing what you like, is knowing what you don't like and saying to that thing: ew get away from me, I don't like you... Roman"

Okay, that was genuinely funny and it made me smile, so kudos for that, Mr. Sanders. It was a clever move and I enjoyed it.

Also, for more reasons I will explain further down, this makes me want to write a conversation between Janus and Roman, to study how they work together, why they don't like each other and their personalities in general. My only problem would be to put it on a timeline, because I don't like to write things suspended in a temporal vacuum. If inspiration strikes, maybe I'll do it.

---

Religion... and self-preservation

Now, I don't know who made that question about Jesus Christ, but you. You. You gave me real fear... but also indirectly confirmed one of my headcanons, so thank you, I suppose.

I was bracing myself, waiting and hoping Thomas didn't say anything stupid, because Janus and religion have a super tight bond and one misstep can lead to me rambling for the rest of my life, all while throwing canon into the trash because no one can say anything wrong about the relationship Janus has with religion, not even Mr. Sanders.

But the answer was... okay. Harmless. A bit simplistic, maybe, but I can accept Janus saying that Jesus is cool for having followers and turning water into wine.

What really struck me the most was when he said Jesus is his style because "he refuses to die".

For me, that's the most important part of the video. You can take away everything else, because this is the only part that matters for me.

Why? Because this is the essence of self-preservation. Because, as I said in the past, self-preservation is that force that protects you from dangers, threats, even yourself. And it protects you from death. It's part of that intrinsic will to live that defines all living creatures.

So, since Janus encompasses this role too, it has always been implied (at least for me) that he's that force that will fight against death until the end, just to make Thomas live a little longer. In my headcanon, he literally refuses to think Thomas can die before his time, because he's built to not make this happen.

Hence why when I saw Janus putting such emphasis on the idea that Jesus refuses to die made me immensely happy, because it's (implied) canon. Janus refuses to die, because he will never surrender to death. Because it's his nature, to never surrender to it.

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Deceit or Ego?

The snake telepathy part was fun when mentioned, then it was followed by the "memememe I'm gorgeous" part, which is perfect if you're the representation of Ego, a bit less if you're deceit.

Speaking of that, I think there's a bit of confusion in Thomas' mind regarding these two aspects. And since they're represented by two different Sides, the contrast is even more jarring.

Janus is confident and this is part of his personality. But confidence isn't repeating "me" in your head 400 times and telling yourself that you're gorgeous and handsome even when sitting still. This isn't confidence, this is Ego. This is something Roman could say to himself... and he did it, in the past. He looked at himself all the time, called himself gorgeous, asked if his makeup was okay because the prince's gonna slay, said he dramatically serenaded himself in front of the mirror. All these things are a constant reconfirmation of yourself and this is what the Ego does: it constantly reconfirms you're great and cool and gorgeous.

Confidence, on the other hand, doesn't need constant confirmations. If you're confident, you already know you're great, you don't need to repeat it yourself. You just do your things and if others criticize you, you shrug their reprimands off.

One example of confidence from this video? This part:

"What are my guilty pleasures?" Guilty pleasures? Why would a pleasure be guilty? I've got none of those. Indulge in your pleasures guilt-free, people: life is short.

This proves Janus is confident, WAY MORE than him repeating how cool he is. This is the tone he should've had for most of the video, not that "Oh, look at how cool I am".

Also because it may seem a paradox, but the more you repeat how cool you are, the less people will believe you. That's why people who constantly show off are perceived as weak and insecure: because they search for a constant reconfirmation they would probably never need, if they were truly confident.

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All of the selfcare - and what else?

Aside from the things I already mentioned, the rest of the video is mostly made of advice like "your opinion is the only one that matters/others are less than you/don't give a shit about others".

I don't know if this is Mr. Sanders making a reminder to himself to not indulge in criticism too much, but okay, let's ignore it XD

These pieces of advice can all be traced back to another aspect of Janus' personality: the self-care one. The last canonical one.

And since it's the last, I can understand why Thomas latched onto it and made it be like 60% of the video. It's probably the part of Janus' character he remembers the most.

And it's the easiest too, along with the "sassy" aspect. Put them together and you get the sassy queen who tells you to relax dear, don't give a fuck about the rest of the world.

So I understand you, anon, when you say this is the best characterization in a while: it is, because it's based on the last canonical piece of Janus' character, mixed with the "sassy" aspect that developed more recently. Of course it seems more coherent with Janus' character, compared to him being drunk for an entire video.

But even if canonical, self-care is just an aspect of Janus' personality and it makes most of the video. The remaining part is a huge amount of Ego, which shouldn't even be here, because it's Roman's trait.

And the other aspects? Nowhere to be seen. No distaste for society, no cryptic language, no wittiness, barely any lie, barely any real confidence, barely any body language and zero foreseeing ability.

I know what you're thinking and yes, I said at the beginning that this video is clearly just a way for Mr. Sanders to reconnect with the character. So I understand why Janus' personality is like that and that there are mistakes or incomplete things. I am not blaming Thomas for trying.

I am writing this post, to remind you Janus' full personality. To remind you that he's not just "sassy wine aunt/self-care queen".

On the contrary, I think present Janus is exactly like his make-up: the traits are similar to the original one, but the aspects are too sharp. They should be here, they are part of him, but they're not in the exact shade or nuance to be him. They are similar, but off, because something is missing. And that something is nuance.

In the end, that's what this post is all about: nuance. Past Janus was more nuanced, because he was more than one aspect. Present Janus is less nuanced, because he's stuck between two aspects - which is a truly cruel irony, considering his entire thing is being a gray, multifaceted character.

My only hope is that, just like with the make-up, Mr. Sanders will find a way to bring nuances back into Janus' character and make him at least similar to who he used to be.

#sanders sides #ask #thomas sanders #janus sanders #I just love this character a lot #he has a ton to offer #and he has such a gray multifaceted personality #he doesn't deserve to become a one-dimensional cardboard

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