#i once again have nothing constructive to ass because this is so so so on point

[sapphicvqmpires]

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ seven wonders

Pairing - shuri x black!fem reader

Word Count - 7.3k

Contains - smut (18+), soft!dom shuri, sub!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, tribbing, edging, choking/breathplay, overstimulation, clit play, shuri is a tease, praise kink, fluff

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @garden-of-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy @shaiwritesss @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)

Song Inspiration - another heartbreak: giveon, pov: ariana grande (readers pov), favorite song: toosii, reflections: dustystaytrue ft. toosii (shuri’s pov)

Writers Note: this fic is me self projecting in both of these characters. I just wanna love and be loved. This fic lowkey kicked my ass, why is writing fluff lowkey hard?? But shuri loves her baby girl so much in this one like whew, I need herrr. Anyways, as always, I hope you all enjoy my lovessss :)

♪ ༘⋆ Tears don’t fall when you’re right here, Perfect for me that’s my fear ♪ ༘⋆ (another heartbreak - giveon)

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The evening is nothing short of perfect, sitting on a rooftop in Rio de Janeiro while the sun sets in the distance, a perfect image of the panoramic painting you sat in. Vibrant hues surrounded you as you sat in front of a small circular table that came alive with the flickering glow of candle light, a vibrant bouquet of exotic flowers and the fresh aroma of Brazilian cuisine. There were the sweet sounds of Bossa Nova playing in the distance, mixing in with the gentle rhythm of waves that settled in the not too far shore. To complete the picturesque view is what you were in this city for in the first place: the Christ the Redeemer Statue.

It was at this very moment that you found yourself at the final stop of your trip around the world. It was a trip orchestrated by your beloved girlfriend, Shuri, who cherished you deeply and wanted to show you what beauty the world had to offer. You had visited the Seven Wonders, each destination bringing you that much closer to the true joy you deserved. Shuri understood that before her arrival, you did not get out much. Not because you had no desire, not because you didn’t have the funds to, but because you simply had no one to share the world with. Life has presented you with hardships, constructing barriers that made you wary of the genuine splendor life had to offer. It obscured your understanding of what love truly entailed, as your past relationships, be they platonic or romantic, introduced individuals who made you question your self-worth. However, once again, you found yourself on a rooftop, accompanied by your girlfriend who quite literally gave you the world, even within the few fleeting months you two had spent together. Her love for you surpassed any other person you had encountered, and it was precisely all of this that frightened you.

“What’s on your mind, sthandwa sam?” Her voice held a gentle quality, infused with a subtle rasp that made you dizzy. It was flawless. Almost unnaturally flawless.

“Kwenzeka ntoni kula ntloko yakho intle?” (“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”)

Being with Shuri was the most transparent you had ever been. She consistently motivated you to express yourself fully, urging you to share your emotions openly and honestly. She possessed a deep understanding of your thoughts and the fears that were buried in your heart, which often hindered your ability to fully embrace the love she shared with you. Nonetheless, Shuri loved and respected you unconditionally. She yearned to hear your emotional release, offering her unwavering support to catch and discard them, surpassing any previous support you had ever received. She aspired to be there for you, her princess, in ways that no one else had ever been. And this is why it wasn’t terribly challenging to open up to her.

“Shuri, you know what I’m thinking.”

“I know, nkosazana, but I wanna hear you say it. Thetha nam ndimamele.” (“Speak to me and I’ll listen.”)

“Shuri-”

“Please, y/n. Please.”

You observe her, appreciating the exquisite features that decorated her face. She was so beautiful, so full of love in a body that has also been through pain and suffering. Shuri intimately understands the harsh realities of life, having experienced her own share of adversity. That's precisely why she gently encourages you to release the emotions you've kept bottled up. Her intention is never to cause discomfort or obligate you to share your past traumas. Rather, she seeks to help you acknowledge and process the feelings your mind and body are urging you to confront, enabling you to progress forward.

You bask in her warm glance for a few moments longer before you softly exhale, preparing your heart for what’s to come.

“It’s just a lot, Shuri. Not in a bad way. It’s never in a bad way when it comes to you. You’re so perfect, your love is overflowing and shit. It’s just…I’m just…”

“Yitsho.” (Say it.)

You sigh.

“Shuri, I-I just…”

Shuri notices your struggle, the way your voice breaks off and she immediately runs to your side, placing a kiss on your forehead before she lowers herself on one knee in front of you. She takes your hands, running her soft lips against your knuckles and you could cry. You loved her so much and it scared the shit out of you that you knew she deeply loved you too.

“I’m scared, Shuri.”

“Mhmm. Keep going, my love, I’m right here. Let it out.”

“I’m scared that…” Your voice gradually faded with your words becoming entangled in your throat, making it harder to breathe. You took a brief pause, collecting your thoughts so that they could flow effortlessly from your lips. “I’m scared that one day you’re gonna look at me and not love what you see anymore.”

You stopped there, curious as to what kind of response she would give you. But of course, she only encouraged you to proceed.

“You’re doing so good, y/n. Keep going…I know there’s more in that big heart of yours.”

You let out another sigh, not born out of annoyance or frustration, but rather a sigh of relief.

“I’m just worried that one day you’re gonna get tired of me, that I’m going to be…I don’t know…I guess just too much. To be fair, I am kinda a lot to be around…I-I understand that I’m not the easiest person to love, and that I can be a handful…”

You were on the verge of tears, but you didn’t allow them to escape you just yet. “I’m just scared you’re gonna get tired of me and I’m just not sure I can handle that, Shuri.”

“Mmm,” Shuri hummed, not once taking her gaze off yours as she continued to kneel in front of you. She brought your hands in for a kiss, loving lips attaching themselves to your soft, brown skin. She lifts herself up to reach your forehead, placing one last kiss before she speaks.

“You know why I chose you, y/n?”

You shake your head, unable to speak in fear that your emotions might overwhelm you and you did not want to ruin this perfect evening with Shuri more than you already felt you had. Shuri lets out a soft chuckle, her pearly teeth revealed through a crooked grin that placed butterflies in the depths of your stomach.

“It’s actually quite simple, nkosazana. I chose you because I love you. I love everything about you. I love your dimples when you smile, and those beautiful eyes, sthandwa. I love your body, everything about it is perfect. Your stomach, your thighs…what’s in between your thighs-“

“Shuri, you’re just talking about my body--”

“Ssshhh, I’m not done. I love your sense of humor, how you’re always laughing and it makes me laugh. Puts a smile to my face when I have no smile to offer. I love your strength and your capability to love even though the world has not been so kind to you. I love your creativity and how artistic you are, it balances me out because you know I love my science. It's nice to have an artist to level the plane. I love your beautiful dark skin and all its simplicities and complexities. I love how you encourage me to be my best, and you push me to be better, for you but most importantly for myself…”

“Shuri…”

“Wait, sthandwa, I have more to say. When…when I lost my brother, I felt as if the world came crashing down on me…he was my favorite person to be around and when he was gone…there was just…nothing…”

Her voice started to falter, unveiling the enduring pain that Shuri carries within herself each day, concealed by the smile she presents to you. A solitary teardrop escaped from her eye, though she hastily wiped it away. She wasn't prepared to break just yet, and neither were you.

“Shuri, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to…and I need to. And you need to hear it.”

You offer a tender smile, conveying to Shuri that everything would be alright. Shuri breathes in, lightly grazing her lips against your hands before proceeding.

“And then…when my mother died…I just…”

“Shuri-”

“I had no will to live anymore because what was the point? I had no one. Nothing. Until…until you.”

You choked down a sob, one that would undoubtedly have torn through your entire being had you let it fully consume you.

“You reminded me of what it is to be happy, to laugh, like genuinely laugh…haven’t done that since my brother, I almost forgot what it felt like. You showed me that there’s so much more to live for, so much the world has to offer and I wouldn’t have it any other way, nkosazana.”

You offer a subtle nod, tears streaming down your face with an unrestrained flow, and this time you permit it. She was utterly flawless, an exquisite fusion of affection and happiness, seamlessly mending the shattered fragments of your own existence. Her embrace provided solace, her gaze offered a sense of security, and there was no place in the world you'd prefer to be at this very moment, and no one else you'd rather be with.

“Umhle kakhulu, y/n,” ("I love you, y/n”) she says with one last kiss before she stands, gesturing to you to stand as well. She pulls you into her embrace, a hug that engulfs every fiber of your being, immersing you in the warmth emanating from her body and permeating back into yours. She placed a firm kiss onto your forehead before you pressed your face into her chest, allowing gentle tears to cascade down your cheeks and onto the fabric of her shirt. Yet, she doesn't mind. She wanted to catch every single droplet that escaped you and tuck them away so you were no longer burdened by fears that weren’t truly there. She hated that you felt scared, apprehensive about the future and the uncertainties it holds, because she will never abandon you. She needs you just as much as you need her. Perhaps even more so.

She cupped your face in the palm of your hands, looking down at puffy eyes and puffy lips as you sniffled.

“You’re literally so beautiful, y/n,” she promises, pressing a kiss into your nose. “Just pour it out, let yourself feel the things you feel, my love. You have to let it out, y/n. Do you understand me?”

You nod, your lips forming a pout before more tears fell from her words.

“I’m not saying you have to explain things when you don’t feel like it. But what I am saying is I am your partner, your girlfriend and I’m here for you. I love you. And I want you to know that I love you, more than anything or anyone else in the world, and that I need you just as bad.”

If you hadn't been a tearful wreck before, you most certainly were now. Cheeks marked with traces of tears remained within Shuri's grasp as you drew her closer for another kiss.

“That’s it, y/n. Just let it out…I’m right here. Ndizohlala ndilapha.” (I’ll always be right here.”)

“I love you so so much, Shuri,” you promise, your voice broken from the lump in your throat.

“You know what the best part of this trip was, sthandwa sam?”

“Hmmm, what could that be, baby?”

A beautiful smile adorned her face as she lifted you up and twirled you around, dancing on a rooftop while your laughter echoed with genuine delight. She sat down on the chair, bringing you into her lap as you straddled her, holding her like it was your last time.

“We may have just traveled the world and its most exquisite landmarks, but you…you were my favorite part. No building or ancient structure is as beautiful and strong as my girl.”

The smile that graced your face was a sight of pure bliss in Shuri's eyes, as she cherished nothing more than the radiance of your beautiful smile. She buries her face in the nape of your neck, gently pressing her lips against your firm yet sensitive skin.

“Every morning I woke up next to you…every dinner I shared with you…every night I had my way with you…”

With each declaration, her kisses grew more fervent, targeting the places she knew weakened you. You wrapped your arms around her neck, fully embracing how much she rendered you powerless through every movement she made and every word she spoke. She was addicting, all consuming, fogging each and everyone of your senses but your pounding heart was a reminder as to where exactly you were.

“Shuri…we-we’re on a public rooftop,” you stuttered, trembling beneath her passionate kisses as you struggled to contain the pulse that found its way between your thighs.

“No one is coming. I made sure of that,” she replies, her face still sunken into your neck as she begins lifting your dress up to bunch around your waist. The light pulsing between your thighs transitioned to heavy throbbing, as melanated bodies grew more eager to feel one another.

“Let me know if you’re ok, y/n,” Shuri says, wanting to make sure that your head and heart is in the right place to proceed with her intimacy. You were more than ok, because even though your heart was often troubled and your mind was in constant battle, your body was always willing to receive whatever obstacle Shuri would give you.

“I’m ok, Shuri,” you reply desperately, slowly grinding your crotch in her lap. Shuri notices this, wasting no time in cupping your saturated cunt, casually stroking you over the thin lace of your panties. It was torturous, how close yet so far she was from where you needed her.

“Shuri,” you whined, a wounded sound that made Shuri smile.

“That’s it, sthandwa. Yilangazelele.” (That’s it, baby. Be desperate for it.”)

“Mmmm,” you moaned as she carefully pulled the fabric to the side, gliding her fingers through your folds, grazing your pulsing clit and it made you frantic. “Sh-Shuri.”

Her strokes came to a halt as she pressed into your clit, a shocking sensation radiating through your thumping nerves.

“Show me how you do it,” she whispered into you.

“Hmm?” you moaned in question.

“Show me how you do it, my pretty girl. Rock on me. Be desperate for it.”

She gently caressed your clit for a few more beats before ceasing, signaling your cue. Gradually, you widen the space between your thighs, allowing her more room to tenderly touch your delicate clit with the pads of her fingers, exerting a firm pressure as you slowly but surely start to grind in response. She wanted to watch you work for it, observe your struggle as you ascended towards your own pleasure.

“Shuri, baby. Ah.”

The feeling was deeply fulfilling, your clit fluttering with each swipe as your soft moans pleased Shuri’s senses. A grin appeared on Shuri's lips as she observed how your pleasure radiated through your facial expressions. Your eyelids grow heavy, your eyebrows relaxed as your mouth falls open. The knot in your stomach tightened as your grinds became harder, your pussy getting louder as you soaked her fingers.

“Look at you go.”

“Unh.”

“Yeah that’s right,y/n. Mntana oyimtombazana.” (“Work for it.”)

“Shuri, unh..shit.”

Shuri gently grabs your throat, not enough to hinder your breathing but enough to get your attention. She entices you closer, pulling you in as she presses her lips to your ear, her words eliciting a shiver that surges through your body, infusing your pounding clit with waves of pleasure, as if it wasn’t already too much on your body.

“Such a needy little pussy, huh?”

“Mhmm. Yeah.”

“So slippery, nkosazana. All this just for me, yeah?”

“Yes, baby yes.”

It was absolutely sensational, her fingers coming in contact with your body as you rubbed against her created a knot in your stomach as the heat coursed through your legs and Shuri’s gaze remained on you, shifting from your pleasured face to your tired cunt.

“Your pussy is so pretty, look at how swollen you are…Bast.”

“Sh-Shuri,” you tremble, a warning that you were close. “I..I..I’m close. Mmm…uhn.”

“Hold it, sthandwa. I know you can.”

“B-but I can’t. I need to.”

“You can do it. Cuz you got no choice, my pretty girl. The most beautiful girl.”

Her carefully selected words seamlessly intertwined with your every gesture, engulfing you in a sensation that overwhelmed your mind and your pussy. The intensity compelled you to surrender, to embrace the fiery passion swirling within your core, while your pussy delicately throbbed.

“Shuri, stop talking like that…you’re gonna make me…f-fuck. Shit.”

“What is it, y/n? Can’t handle being my pretty princess?” She gained pleasure from teasing you, relishing in the sight of your blissful torment while you writhed on top of her, fighting hard to obey her and not cum until she let you. “Would you rather be my pretty slut?”

“Baby…please,” you begged.

“Mmmm,” she hummed low. “You can be both.”

“Shit,” you whined, unintentionally slowing your movements down to give your swollen clit a moment to wind down.

“Khange ndithi ungacotha. Qhubeka uhamba. Ndibonise ukuba ufuna embi kangakanani.” (I didn’t say you can slow down. Keep going. Show me how bad you want it.”)

“Shuri..I-I…”

As you were at the threshold, a few more swipes away from releasing onto her, she removed her fingers from you, a long sticky line connecting with her fingers until she drew them into her mouth, cleaning them dry as she kept her eyes on you.

“Wh-why did you do that?,” you struggled to say as your impending orgasm remained trapped between your legs, so close to being released from your body before she denied you. Shuri chuckles before kissing your cheek, still tear-stained from earlier.

“Ssshh, my love. You’ll get it soon. Don’t worry.”

Gently raising you from her lap, she clasped your hand as the two of you headed back to your hotel room. Your tense pussy nerves made walking a challenge, causing you to falter occasionally, but Shuri guided you every step of the way.

♪ ༘⋆ You love my lips ‘cause they say the things we’ve always been afraid of, I can feel it starting to subside, learning to believe in what is mine ♪ ༘⋆ (pov - ariana grande)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Oh my god, Shuri!" you exclaim, caught off guard, as Shuri effortlessly lifts you off the ground and twirls you around, cradling your body in her embrace as you walk down the hotel corridor. With a playful gesture, she plants several kisses on your cheek, eliciting another burst of laughter from you. “Shuri, put me down!,” you manage to utter amidst your genuine laughter, even though your plea for her to let you go was anything but.

“Absolutely not, nkoszana,” she teases, spinning you once more before you make it to your hotel door. It was then Shuri placed you down, trapping you between the door and her body as her mouth traveled back to that sweet spot on your neck. Your hand made its way to the back of her head, gently grasping her soft curls as her passionate kisses milk a moan off your lips. Her hands creep down your body, caressing your curves before her fingers slowly find their way between your legs again, causing your knees to give out for a split second as you were still sore from your unreleased orgasm.

“Wait-Shuri…shit.”

The instant her fingers stroke you over the drenched material, a familiar sensation stirs within you, beckoning your orgasm to well up once more, eager to escape from your body.

“Shuri…please.”

“Hmmm?”

“Shuri…I…inside please, let’s go inside?”

She lifted her face from your neck, her hungry eyes meeting your pained ones as she continued her assault on your pussy. She dips her ring and middle finger beneath the fabric, coming in pure contact with your swollen clit once again, sending an electric pulse swimming through your aching cunt.

“Shuri-ah!,” you moaned loudly, most likely audible to anyone that may have been occupying any other of the hotel rooms. Shuri lifted a finger to your lip, a gesture that told you to keep quiet.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, struggling to keep your heavy moans at bay.

“It’s ok, sthandwa, you’re ok. Let’s go inside now, yeah?”

You nodded, the only response you could give because if you dare to speak, coherent words would not fall out. Shuri only smirked at you, opening the door before lifting you up once again, shutting the door behind her aggressively while the two of you passionately kissed until your back gently pressed onto the bed.

Shuri was delicate in removing your dress from your body, gliding the zipper downwards and gracefully allowing the slender straps to slip off your shoulders. Your panties, she was not so gentle with, hooking her fingers underneath the lace that hugged your hips and tearing them, causing a whine to escape your lips.

“Shuri!”

“I’ll get you another pair, my love, do not worry.”

You yearned one another intensely, craving Shuri's touch with a deep hunger, and she desired you just as deep. For a moment, she got off the bed, allowing herself to become entranced with the way your slick glistened your inner thighs, doing all this as she unbuttoned her dress shirt and rolled up her sleeves, her small gold chain crystalline against her ebony skin. She was so beautiful and the sight of her only heightened your arousal, your core pulsing beneath her gaze.

Shuri got on the bed, resting herself on the headboard before motioning you to sit on her lap and you oblige, spreading your legs over hers as your pussy lingered above her crotch. She wasted no time sinking her eager fingers through your folds, her digits getting lost in your thick, swollen pussy as you feel the coolness of her rings up against you. She occasionally brushes over your clit and you flinch every time, still sensitive from her lingering touch.

“Shuri, stop playing baby,” you whine, completely unashamed of how needy your plea sounds.

“Where do you want me?”

“Inside…pl-please?”

“Mhmm….” Shuri pressed into your clit once more, pushing loving circles into you before she made her way down to your clenching hole. You were drenched, desperate for her touch but Shuri desired to savor this moment as if it were a rare occurrence, aiming to reaffirm that you were more than what others perceived you to be because in her eyes, you meant everything and even more.

She traced her fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your pussy chased after her in desperation. The relentless teasing she subjected you to was unbearable, driving you to the edge of exhaustion as your impatience mounted, begging her to put an end to it.

“Shuri, pleeease.”

With a sly expression, Shuri's crooked grin compliments her fingers as they firmly dig into you, using her free hand to guide your body onto her as if you were sitting onto her strap. She continuously pushes into you until her knuckles kiss your pussy lips, Shuri’s fingers are well acquainted with your body, swiftly linking the pads with that special spot inside you that makes your pussy walls convulse violently, prompting you to bury your head into her as you moan into her shoulder.

“Oh yes, Shuri, unh.”

“I want you to bounce, nkosazana. Ride me like you ride my dick.”

With her words infused with the depth in her tone, it provided all the motivation you required. A shiver rushed down your spine, intertwining with the shiver that surged through your pussy walls, instantly targeting your g-spot as you milked Shuri’s fingers.

Raising your head from her shoulder, you met her gaze fixed not on your eyes but on your body, observing every reaction you had to her touch. The way your breasts bounced frantically in tempo with her thrusts, and the way your pussy lips swelled from the stimulation made it evident just how much you desired her and how eager you were to surrender to the woman below you. Shuri brought her lips to your face, her eyebrows scrunched together as she planted fervent kisses on your temple before softly whispering words of reassurance into your ear, causing your walls to clench around her with urgency.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle. Yileqe.” (“That’s right, my pretty girl. Chase it.”)

“Shuri, please.”

“Ukhangeleka umhle ngolu hlobo. Intle kakhulu xa uyinqwenela.” (“You look so pretty like this. So pretty when you’re desperate for it.”)

It’s moments like these where you’re thankful that you learned to speak Xhosa fluently, your mind becoming foggy with the native words that spill off of Shuri's tongue as her thrusts and your bounces simultaneously find each other in your g-spot. It was nothing short of pure bliss as your orgasm crept through you, the heat in your stomach igniting as your wet pussy echoed through the hotel room.

“Sh-Shuri…I’m gonna cum, Shuri.”

“Then do it.”

“Ah!”

For a few moments longer, Shuri showers you with praise, extolling your body and emphasizing how flawlessly your pussy compliments her, designed to take her and listen to her and this was all made clear with how her voice radiated through her next words, instantly pushing you to your orgasm.

“Cum, baby. Let this aching pussy have what she’s been begging for all night.”

And with her words, the pressure built to your breaking point as you released right onto her, oozing onto her hand and trailing down to her crotch. Your orgasm crashed through you wave after wave as Shuri continued to praise you through it, making promises of forever and how much she loves her pretty girl.

“Shuri, yeah,” you trembled, moans shattered and delicate, struggling to articulate thoughts while your mind and pussy absorbed everything.

"Ngokwenyani ungoyena mntu umhle ndakha ndambona. Ndifuna nje ukwenza ukuba ube cum ngokuphindaphindiweyo." ("You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I just wanna make you cum over and over again.")

“I..fuck.”

“Will you let me do that, y/n? Make you cum all the time? Whenever I please?”

You nod frantically, the pulse in your walls growing as Shuri continues to fuck you through it, switching between rubbing your clit and thrusting into you as you struggle to come down from your blissful state.

“Fuck, I love you,” she mumbles, repositioning you so your on your back, almost unaware of where you were but you snapped back to reality as you feel Shuri spread your legs open and place her mouth inbetween them, grazing her lips over your still sensitive clit and your whole body spasmed at her touch, absolutely fragile from your lingering orgasm.

“W-wait Shuri…I can’t…please,” you whimper, placing your hand over your aching pussy.

“Yihambise.” (“Move it.”)

“Baby…I-I…”

“Y/n…I said move it.”

You shake your head from side to side in protest, your face contorting in a mix of desperation and fatigue as your delicate pussy continues its rhythmic throb. Shuri removes herself from between your thighs, leaning forward to meet your gaze as she gently pinches your chin to redirect your attention to her. Cradling the back of your head, she holds you close, her light chain dangling inches from your face.

“There isn’t a woman in the world as strong as my baby girl. You can take anything. I promise. Do you understand me?”

You vigorously nod and she chuckles at the sight of your vulnerability, noticing how your responses have been reduced to mere head gestures, as you grapple to form coherent sentences.

“I know what your pussy needs, and from the way you’re still leaking onto these sheets like a slut, I know she wants more. Am I right?”

Another nod.

“Uze ube yintombazana elungileyo kum, nkosazana, wenze le nto ndiyithethayo. Hambisa isandla sakho.” (“Then be a good girl for me, princess, and do what I say. Move your hand.”)

You hesitated at first before you obeyed her words. You removed your hand from the heat between your thighs, revealing your pussy that continued to drip for her. Your pussy lips were puffy, your clit enlarged as you opened your legs wider for Shuris devour and she practically salivated at the sight of you before she dove into her meal with one flat lick through your folds. Instantly, your hand gravitates to your pussy again but Shuri lightly pushes it out the way, allowing nothing to get between her and what belongs to her.

“Ungakhe ucinge ngayo.” (“Don’t even think about it.”)

Finally, she takes your clit into the swells of her lips, pulling you into her mouth as she sucked and slurped both in and around you. Your legs rest on her shoulders, her hands hooked around your thighs, your toes perfectly pointed. It was overwhelming, her mouth on you as she moaned into your pussy and connected her gaze with yours. You brought your hand to gently fist her curls, using them as a handle to grind down on her tongue.

“Shuri, oh my god, baby yes,”

“Take it easy, sthandwa. I don’t want you cumming just yet.”

“Oh…okay…fuck.”

The squelch of your pussy resonated loudly, wet lips meeting wet lips as you sensed your impending climax. Your stomach started to twist into knots, the soles of your feet and palms of your hands tingle while your pussy hole tightened. You weren’t certain with how much longer you could keep it in as Shuri’s tongue work seemed to intensify, causing your cunt to clench repeatedly.

“Baby…I’m gonna-you’re gonna make me-”

Once again, Shuri moaned into your pussy, a sound that added to your already soaked cunt before reluctantly letting go. The physical and mental turmoil of nearing the threshold, only to be abruptly pulled away was agonizing. But Shuri had a different plan for the both of you. She wanted to experience your body entirely, to witness your release directly onto her as your body completely unraveled and understood that you belonged to her and it will remain so as long as you allow it.

She locks eyes with you while standing by the bed. With elegance and sexual frustration, she begins to unbutton the rest of her dress shirt, meticulously lifting the fabric from her body. Her perky breasts rest beautifully on her chest, her dark skin seemingly eager to intertwine with yours. As she begins to undo her belt buckle, you shift your position to sit at the edge of the bed in front of her, wanting to take over and complete the task yourself.

“Here baby, lemme take these off of you,” you plead. She nods in agreement, making room for you to complete the job. You earnestly unbuckle her belt, undoing each button one by one as you press your lips against the valley in her breasts. When her pants were undone, you slipped your hand beneath her boxers, your palm coming in direct contact with her dripping pussy and she took a sharp inhale as you glided through her folds.

“So wet just from tasting me,” you whispered with a smirk.

“Ndimanzi kuba ndikuthanda,” she replied. (“I’m wet because I love you.) She completely removes her pants and boxers from her body, standing before you fully bare in her petite yet toned body. “Lala phantsi ngenxa yam.” (“Lie back down for me.”)

In no time, Shuri grips your calf, guiding you into a perfect position where her pussy can meet yours. The moment she touches you, the instant her aching bud kisses yours, a surge of immediate pleasure overwhelms you, your jaw falling open as you sing soft melodies of praise meant for her ears only.

“Fuck baby.”

She embraces you, swaying back and forth until it feels like the entire universe is within your grasp. Your melanated skins meld as one, two feminine bodies intertwining to form the most exquisite shades of brown.

“Sh-Shuri, un-UNH.” Your moans escalated, becoming filthier by the second and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment with how easily aroused you became and so you bit your bottom lip to try and contain the shameful moans that sat in the pit of your throat. Shuri's face was concentrated, eyebrows furrowing as she was captivated by the sight of your puffy pussy on hers; concentrated on sloshing cores and the friction created below. But she was determined to hear you, reveling in your inability to keep quiet as she pleased you with her body. She allowed muffled moans and gentle whimpers to linger on for too long, fully aware that you wanted to completely unleash yourself. And she would make you.

“No, don’t do that.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hold back.”

No matter how many times she saw you naked, how many times she’s fucked you into oblivion, you always became embarrassed with how effortlessly compliant your body was, how loud your mouth and your pussy desperately became.

“What’d I say about holding it in?”

You shake your head in defiance, struggling to muffle the pitiful moan welling up within you. It's almost as if you're testing her, curious to see how she'll respond and whether she'll get her way. Shuri doesn’t hesitate to snake her palm around your throat, almost in a loving manner as she grins. She presses lightly, again, not enough to hinder your breathing pattern but enough to get your attention on her.

“Answer me, princess. What’d I say about holding it in?”

“Y-you…fuck. You said n-not to,” you struggled to say amidst Shuri’s heavy grinding.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle,” she responds (“That’s right, my pretty girl). Still, you resist her, intrigued to witness the depths of determination in your normally tender and affectionate Shuri, to see how far she'll go in pursuing her own desires. You feel the compression on your windpipe escalate much harder than it was, oxygen struggling to move down your throat and it makes you soak as you moan in unison with your guttural gasps. You clasp her wrist for support, a soft smile appearing on your face as you get lost in your dwindling breathing pattern.

“I…Shuri…AH!”

“That’s it, y/n. Pour it out, just like I said. Let yourself feel the things you feel. Let me give your pretty pussy what she deserves…shit.”

“UNH.”

“Nantso ke sthandwa sam, mandikuva.” (“That’s it my love, let me hear you.”)

Your pussy entrance clenched frantically, your used clit beating like rapid thunder as your orgasm awaited you. And it was no different for Shuri. It was written all over her face. The more she spoke, the more broken and disheveled her sentences became, her jaw twitching and abs contracting as she chased her own high, absolutely desperate to feel your pussy cum all over her palpitating clit.

“Sh…Shuri! Ooooo fuck baby…I-I’m gonna…”

“Do it. Flood m-me…unh.”

Both of your moans were messy, filling the air with cries of each others names as Shuri continued to fuck you with her drenched pussy. It was exhilarating, a rush of warmth that surged through your body, starting as a tight ball of heat in your sex and radiating outward. The thump between your dewy folds pulsed at a faltering rhythm, one beat upon another, as you felt Shuri's clit continuously twitching and teasing against you.

“Fuck, y/n. You make my pussy feel so g-good,” Shuri moaned, struggling to descend from her own state of bliss. And she was a sight to see. Her dark skin glistened with perspiration, the chain adhering to her body due to the sweat. Her curls were ruffled, their natural pattern still discernible but marred by the droplets of sweat that trickled down her forehead. And you could always tell how hard her orgasm was rushing through her body with the way her abs tightened and her jaw clenched, her pussy puffed out as her clit jolted with pleasure. Your girlfriend was ridiculously sexy and the way her body reacted to yours was a testament in itself with how much she loved you.

Before you were able to come back to earth, you felt one last lick up your folds and you shuddered violently forcing Shuri to grip your thighs tightly in order to keep you still. You were still so achy, pulsations still finding a way to decrease as Shuri pressed her mouth onto you, kissing your pussy lips like they’re the lips on your face.

“Ugqibelele kakhulu,” she hums into your cunt before licking your juices up (“You’re so perfect,”). “Intwana yakho igqibelele.” (“Your pussy is so perfect.”)

Another lick through your folds that makes you jolt and you consider trying to squirm out of her grasp but the sight of Shuri worshiping words of praise into your pussy in her native tongue is enough to let you keep her there.

"Ndifuna ukudlala kwi intwana yakho ngalo lonke ixesha.” (“I want to play in your pussy all the time.”)

“Ufuna ukwenza ukuba uze ngapha nangapha nangaphezulu kwakhona.” (“Wanna make you cum over and over and over again.”)

“Nanini na ndifuna.” (“Whenever I want.”)

"Kuba ndiyakuthanda." (“Because I love you.”)

“Intwana yam.” (“My pussy.)

“Umntwana wam oyintombazana.” (“My baby girl.”)

They were words of promise, words of desire as you cum once more. The waves of her husky voice surged through you as her mouth wrapped around your clit and you whimpered through your overwhelming orgasm, legs trembling as you trapped Shuri between the thickness of your dark thighs.

“Sh-Shuri…please. I-ah…I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, baby.”

“Then…please.” You were shaking, completely overtaken by it all. “Please Shuri…I can’t.”

Shuri plants one last kiss onto your clit and you shudder, breasts and thick thighs jiggling one last time before Shuri removes herself from the heaven between them. You were her baby girl, her princess, her everything and she didn’t want you to feel anything less. She comes back up to face you, caressing your cheek as sleep crept through your mind.

“Y/n…are you able to wash up yourself?”

You nodded and Shuri smiled, proud of you.

“Then go do it, please. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”

“W-wait…why can’t we wash up together? We always do it together,” you pouted.

“Sshhhh,” she whispered, still caressing your beautiful face. “Kukanye nje, sthandwa sam. Ndiyacela." (“Just this once, my love. Please.”)

You hesitate, but nod, bringing her in for a kiss as you taste the remnants of your pleasure on Shuri’s lips.

“Good girl. Always my good girl.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♪ ༘⋆ Open up those gates to your heart, Only if you’ll let me ♪ ༘⋆ (favorite song - toosii)

After finishing your shower and changing into pajamas, you step out of the bathroom only to be greeted by a heartwarming sight that leaves you holding back tears. A trail of rose petals leads from the bathroom door to the neatly made hotel bed, where you and Shuri shared your intimate moment. Placed on the bed is a large stuffed panda bear, a thoughtful reminder that Shuri noticed your love for these creatures during your trip to China to visit The Great Wall. Right in front of the bear sits a beautifully wrapped box. Shuri's smile warms your heart, and you rush into her arms, straddling her with a passionate kiss. She changed into low waisted black joggers with a matching black crop top, showing off her sculpted body and toned arms as the subtle gold chain remained on her neck. She looked damn good.

“Baby, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girlfriend.”

“Shuri…”

“Sshhh, y/n, just open it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Y/n…I don’t get you things to get things in return. I get you things because I love you and because I can. Now open it…please?”

"Mmmm okay!," you giggled, playfully pecking Shuri's nose before removing yourself from her lap. You picked up the gift, giving it a little shake before eagerly unwrapping it. Inside, you found exquisite souvenirs from each of the stops you and Shuri had made on your trip to the Seven Wonders. The items looked rare and valuable, serving as a beautiful memento of the precious time you had spent with the woman you cherished the most.

“Shuriiiiii! Where-how? How did you get these??”

Shuri shrugs her shoulders, a half cocky grin painting her face. “I have my ways.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, proceeding to dig through the gift. Along with it all was a kimoyo bracelet, and you smiled at the gesture.

“Thank you babyyyy,” you squeal, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Now I can do all the things you do!”

“Welllll not quite. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now,” she chuckled. “I made this mostly so I can keep you safe even when I’m not around. That amongst…other things.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What things?”

“Oh you know…like…things…like I can give you orgasms with it.”

“Oh my god, Shuri!,” you laugh, playfully hitting her once more before proceeding to look in the box, finding a folded piece of paper at the bottom.

“Oooo, what’s this??,” you ask before Shuri takes the paper from your hand, laughing in your state of confusion.

“I wanna read this to you myself,” she says, her voice smooth as silk.

“What is it?”

“Just relax for me. Here…hold this,” she says, placing the panda plush in your arms. It was so cute.

Shuri slowly unfolded the paper, kissing your lips before inhaling deeply.

“I call this piece ‘Seven Wonders’.”

“Piece? Shuri, what is this?”

“Just…listen...”

✎✯ “They say the world contains wonders, I heard there were seven

But what wonders do they speak of if we don’t live in heaven?

They say the world contains beauty, but for me it was tragic

And though I don’t believe fables, I believe you are magic

I say the world contains death, yet in you I find life

And though now I’m your girlfriend, I hope one day I’m your wife

I say the world is but hell, yet you are my heaven

And if the world contains wonders, then you are all seven” ✯✎

With each word, each stanza and rhyme, you were brought to a state of healing. A state where you could feel Shuri’s words pick up the pieces for you and mend them back into one. You were an emotional wreck, tears falling down your cheeks uncontrollably to a point where softs sobs ripped out of your mouth. Your chest felt heavy and light all at once, as you were overtaken and consumed by the love you had for your girlfriend.

“Shuri, what the fuck???,” you cried, basking it all in. “That was so fucking beautiful, what? I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, nkoszana. You just have to believe it.”

“Shuri I…I didn’t even get you anything.”

"Baby, come here," she murmurs gently, gesturing for you to return and settle back into her lap, and you comply willingly. With your puffy eyes meeting hers, she can't help but be overwhelmed with love for you.

“You are my gift.”

Your lips form a pout, eyes twinkling with your tears.

“What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

“Thank you my love,” you whisper for her ears only, nuzzling your face into the warmth of her neck as she kisses your temple in longing. “You’re my everything, Shuri.”

“Nawe ungowam.” (“And you are mine.”) ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

♪ ༘⋆ I see reflections of me when I look at you, and I ain’t never felt this way, and I can’t lie girl you got it, and I got pain all in my body you helping me heal from, lil’ mama a real one ♪ ༘⋆ (reflections - dustystaytrue ft. toosii)

#shuri x reader #shuri x you #shuri black panther #shuri fanfiction #shuri smut #dom!shuri #sub!y/n #smut #fluff #lesbian #sapphicvqmpires

[paranormalactivity5]

✮If you film me while I suck it you can be a superstar!✮

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Famous!Fem!reader

*This takes place in 1990 simply because cameras were smaller*

A/N: ok second ficc!!! I kinda don't like this tho but it got me out of writers' block soooooo. Also, love the writers' block after one fic. I welcome feedback and constructive criticism!

WARNINGS: P in V, oral sex (f receiving), one thigh slap, chocking, lmk if anything else but I don't think so

word count: 1.2k

You were sitting there staring at yourself in the mirror occasionally taking a nervous peek at the not yet recording camera set on the table next to you, waiting for Eddie to get home. It was Valentine's Day and you finally had the day off but just your luck, Eddie had press all day for Corroded Coffins' new album, you really couldn't be more proud of your boy but…really? Today? You had loved Valentine's Day even before getting into a relationship, just seeing people be happy and in love was nice, and now you were one of them but of course, Eddie's manager Brenda had to take that away, however, you still had some tricks up your sleeve.

Eddie had bought up the idea of possibly recording yourselves having sex, which you were apprehensive about considering your status but you were very intrigued by the idea…..you didn't tell him that though. You wanted to wait for the right moment to bring it back up and this was it. You were dressed up in a light tan sheer little two piece that was littered with little red hearts, it fit you fucking perfectly. He was going to lose his mind.

The second you heard his car pull up in the driveway you threw on your regular fluffy black robe with little comic skulls on it and put the chicken pot pie you had prepared earlier in the oven, you only put it in now because you knew you would be occupied for awhile. You greeted him at the door saying your hellos, and a quick peck on the lips “mmmhp is that chicken pot pie?” he asked smiling “yup, just put it in the oven”. He tells you about his day and all the interviews he did but all you can think about is how hot he looks in those black jeans, that black tee shirt, and leather jacket. He turns around to hang his jacket up and you quickly drop your robe, exposing yourself. He turns back to face you and you swear you can see his Brian short circuit, he does that every time he sees you like this but just as he also does every time he rapidly gatherers himself and a smirk appears on his face. “Well damn baby…” he always speaks so smoothly “I mean I knew you would probably do something but shit, I wasn't expecting this” You can already see him beginning to harden in his jeans which in turn makes heat pool in your stomach.

He walks over and pulls you into him, kissing passionately, only ever pulling apart for air. “Jump” the command from him is so simple but it makes you oh so excited. You do as he says wrapping your legs around his waist and his hands grip your ass, he always holds you so effortlessly, he really is one of those guys that is so much stronger than they look. He begins to walk into your bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Once he gently sets you down on the bed he pulls up to remove his shirt he leans down again but you put your hand on his chest to stop him. He looks confused when you walk over to the dresser, until you hand him the camera.

He looks like he could blow his load right then and there. “...Are you sure?” he asks “Yes.” you say breathless and quickly reattach your mouth to his. He lays you down and turns the camera on but confuses you when he hands you the camera. He lowers himself and starts laying kisses down your stomach and on your hip bones, your breath starts to quicken and you can feel your clit throbbing with need. He continues down, now sucking hickeys into your inner thighs. After what feels like forever he ghosts’ his lips over right where you need him, you can feel his long hair tickling your thighs. He looks au at you with nothing but want in his eyes “Record this baby. Record me making you cum on my tongue”.

He peels your sheer panties off you, the string of your wetness to your underwear could be considered pornographic. The feeling of the cold room was quickly replaced by his warm mouth. You let out a loud moan. the second his mouth is on you he goes to work. Licking around and sucking your on your clit. You use your hand to rub your tit through your bra but he quickly stops his 

actions and slaps you on your thigh causing you to let out a whine. “Keep the camera on me. Or I stop.” he says sternly but you know its killing him not to have his mouth on you right now. You place the camera back on him and he dives back in. You can feel the tension building in your abdomen. For the first time, you look down and you can see him grinding himself into the edge of the bed, and feel him groaning into you; the vibrations are what send you over the edge.

He continued his work on your pussy letting you ride out your orgasm. As soon as you come down from your high his mouth is on yours and he tugs his pants off and puts the camera on the side table where it can get the perfect view. He looks at you for permission, you breathlessly reply “Yes” looking up at him with so much want you can barely see straight. He lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in you both let out moans of relief. He quickly begins to build up his pace, You're both moaning so loud  “fuck. Fuck yes. Take it” he groans. he’s pounding into you so good it’s mind numbing.

He pulls the cups of your bra down “Lemme see those perfect tits babe” and begins palming your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Oh my god Eddie” you moan out shakeily. He slides his hand up your body and around your throat just barely putting enough pressure on your pulse point to make your head spin. For the second time tonight, you feel the pressure build and you can tell he’s feeling the same from the way his thrusts are becoming more sloppy and his glorious abdominal muscles are tightening.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie cum in me” you beg him. He leans down to kiss you and his pelvis rubs against you triggering your orgasm, the feeling of you clenching around him triggers his own. You both ride out your highs moaning into each other's mouths. You now lay next to each other with him still inside you feeling the after shocks of your orgasms. “Oh my god….when was the last time I told you how much I love you?” he asks while chuckling sarcastically and you lightly slap him on the chest. Just in time for a nice dinner, after which you will probably show him some gratitude on your knees. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things fic #paranormalactivity5

[shslbunnylover]

★★★𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 (𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮 13: 𝙈𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙭)★★★

Character: Alcina Dimitrescu

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 @marvels--slut

Trigger warnings (DL, DI): Mirror sex, boss/employee dynamics, body image issues, clitoral stimulation, Top Alcina/Bottom reader,

Genre: Smut (With hurt/comfort)

A/n: New character bitches!!

Word count: 1.1k

...

...

It was pornographic the way you were positioned, the way your ass was perfectly laid in between the beautiful pair of legs that belonged to the one and only Alcina Dimitrescu, grinding up against her heated sex. Your body was completely nude except for your black lingerie that was quickly torn off your body with the help of the taller woman's claws that emerged from her fingernails.

"So...do you want to explain why you're here in between my legs?" Alcina asks, her hand finding it's way to grip your chin after retracting her claws back into her hands.

You shake your head with only a whimper trembling from your lips, fully aware of the reason you were in such a lewd state, and it was all because of your own stupid body image. You had been trying really hard, you were trying to care of yourself, you were trying so hard to love yourself for the sake of your own mental health and well-being.

You looked over at your maid's uniform, a black and white colette uniform given to you by your wonderful employer at the Dimitrescu castle, tears threatening to prick at your eyes from the fear you felt of the woman holding you.

"My lady...I assure you my problems won't affect my work in any way," You whimpered, looking forward to face the mirror you and the black-haired woman were propped up in front of.

Alcina growled in response, eyes narrowing as her grip increased on your chin, turning the skin around it slightly red thanks to the pressure.

"I don't care what you assure me, my pet," She replied, sliding her opposite hand to your aching cunt, rubbing her thumb around your sensitive bundle of nerves. "I want an explanation for the reason you were being mean to yourself,"

You shiver under her touch as you're aware of how intoxicating yet terrifying it is.

"It's nothing My Lady, please rest assured that it wouldn't-"

You're once again cut off by the aggressive grip of Alcina pausing your speech in order for her to speak.

"I have already told you little mouse, you are not to be mean to yourself as long as you work for me," Her seductive voice said, the lust and anger in her voice causing for a trail of goosebumps to appear on your back. "Now explain,"

You take a deep breath, eyes finally letting the tears fall as you began to explain, your speech being mixed with the moans caused by Alcina, who was currently rubbing your clit just a bit more aggressively than before.

"I just wish my body was as beautiful as any of the other maids in the castle, they have everything perfect!" You confess, the end of your sentence being a bit higher in pitch thanks to your lewd whimpers and soft cries.

The older woman only hummed in response, letting go of your chin as you quickly hid your face from the sight of the mirror, becoming slightly shocked when Alcina only sped up her pace to suck out all of your whimpers and moans, not even bothering to pick your head up to face the mirror.

"Little mouse, beauty is a construct," She simply said, her voice beginning to soten as her other hand began to caress your thigh. "You're expected to be skinny, but curvy, but no too curvy that you show any weight other than on your butt and breasts. You're expected to have a symetrical face when that's not even possible to achieve. You're expected to have perfect skin but if you cover it with makeup so that you do have perfect skin, you're a liar. There are so many things us ladies are expected to do that I could go hours on about, but the point is that they're all unrealistic."

Your ears perked up a little, your body still on fire from how fast your orgasm was approaching your shaking body.

Alcina had a plan though, and you were unknowingly following each step to the letter.

"You have to love your body, it's the only one you have," The older woman smiled, showing just how much she cared for her favorite maid. "Our smiles are what make us beautiful, along with our sounds, everything else is just a bonus,"

And just as Alcina planned, you spoke up once again.

"But I just am ugly! You don't get it because you're so beautiful!" You cried out, one of your hands covering your mouth to muffle the noises of pleasure that were currently escaping your throat at high volume.

The golden eyed woman smirked, quickly pulling her hand away from your clit, and using her other to pull your head up to face itself in the mirror.

You cried out in pain over the loss of her touch, tears managing to prick at your eyes as you begged for her to pleasure you like she had been doing.

Alcina's eyes narrowed, and you felt a shiver go down her spine at the sudden glare and lack of warmth in her expression.

"Why would I let an ugly girl cum?" She asked, "Why would I pleasure someone who's ugly?"

Your body froze up at that, and your eyes finally locked with themselves in the mirror, and you truly saw a beautiful person. Even with how blissed out and sweaty you were from the older woman's somewhat magical touch, you somehow saw beauty in you. True beauty.

The lady holding you smirked, and she slid her hand down to your clit, beginning to toy with it but at a much slower pace than originally.

"So if you want to cum, you're going to admit that you're beautiful, my little mouse,"

You blushed furiously, and you took a deep breath.

"I'm beautiful,"

More speed was put into Alcina's touch, your moans filling the room as you gripped onto her thighs, watching your pornographic scene that was displayed in the mirror in front of you.

"Thats a good little mouse, now cum for me, cum all over my fingers while screaming about how I was right, how you are truly gorgeous," She cooed, her fingers moving at speeds so quick your brain was practically going haywire.

"You were right! I'm beautiful! I'm beautiful just the way I am! I ahhh~!!!" You screamed, coming completely undone in Alcina's arms.

Her touch was still soft as she looked down at you as you began to curl up in her arms and cry softly from gratitude.

"You're my little mouse, and you are beautiful despite what your brain tells you," She smiled softly in an uncharacteristic way as she licked the white fluid of her fingers.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #resident evil #lesbian #wlw #pansexual #wlw ns/fw #kinktober 2023 #smut #bisexual #hurt/comfort #body posititivity

[mins-fins]

all flights are delayed !

"i like to call myself a pretty man connoisseur.."

synopsis: your sad to say it, but you don't have much going on in your life. you have a very time consuming major, just a few friends, barely any time to go out, and spend most of your free time either a: working, or b: sleeping. so for once, when you finally have the friday off, and your dragged off to go watch a football game between a rival school of yours, you really do wish you were anywhere else. somehow though, it turns out to be one of the best things to happen to you, because a charming oreo–haired musical theater major from your rival school just happens to saunter his way into your life, you didn't expect to fall in love in your junior year, but your also not complaining!

pairing: xiao dejun x male!reader

genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers, musical theater major!xiaojun x health science major!reader, fluff, like the lightest of angst, lowkey fast burn 😖

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing(?), gay people, a little miscommunication, reader having a crisis over oreo xiaojun, probably a lot of repetitive phrases, huang guanheng is EVERYWHERE

word count: 12.8k

notes: OKAAAAAAAY hello! now in the beginning i really did enjoy writing this but after like the fourth scene its all so disgusting and jumbled up but i am also very proud of myself because this is the longest ever fic i have ever written (it is all xiao dejuns fault), actually it is ALL of nct's fault because why do i have a bunch of 8k word fics of so many nct members..😢 anyway if this seems any rushed or makes absolutely no sense at times its because im tired and i worked extra today but it doesn't really matter because constructive criticism is good (i shouldn't even publish this tbh) but there is a first for everything! enjoy!

YOU'VE NEVER BEEN A FOOTBALL FAN. now you know that might be a little of a sour opinion, especially to the men in your family, but it's just never been a sport you enjoy. it is just a little fun to watch, especially when drunk, because the sight of men in tight ass clothes running around a field chasing a ball is possibly one of the funniest things you think your drunk mind has ever seen. which is why now— in the stands, listening to the loud shouts and screams from your schoolmates, and rival scholars, you feel as if your ears have just been popped.

after all the days of working, and doing nothing but schoolwork, you were glad to have the rest of the friday off. there was nothing else you wanted to do but put on an oversized sweater, make a bowl of ramen and rewatch gossip girl for the seventy fifth time already (yes, you keep count), but no— guanheng decided he was going to drag you out of the dorm to watch stupid football game, one about "school spirit" or whatever, you weren't paying attention to him when he decided to go on his ramble, and now he's abandoned you once again! probably off to go talk to one of his 1000 other friends or something.

you almost consider leaving, but then you witness the amount of people you'd have to maneuver through, the amount of excuse me's you'd have to utter, the amount of pushing you'd endure as you tried to make your way through the crowded stands, besides, you can't leave without guanheng, your pretty much the only person responsible for keeping him alive at this point.

so you somehow suck it up and manage to stick around. your ears are practically on fire right now, and you desperately want to take off your shoes because of how they are poking you at the moment. you almost feel like your being pressed together by all the people in the stands, as if walls are slowly pushing in and crushing every single bone in your body.

"that team is doing horribly.." you mutter to yourself in an attempt to calm your crazy mind.

"i know, we suck".

at first you think you've made up the voice, because in the past hour and a half all you've heard is shouting, cheering, and loud music blasting on your ears, no one has made any attempt to talk to you since guanheng up and left you alone in the stands, so the response almost seems like muddled up words created by your brain as a response—

but it's not.

someone actually did respond to you, and in a split second there is a completely new person standing beside you, also observing the game but not looking as pleased to be there. when you do glance to your left, you come across possibly the most beautiful boy— no, person, you come across the most beautiful person you think you've ever seen in your twenty years of living, for once it feels like everything stops.

you are not the kind of person that just.. does that. now you've met tons of pretty people, you've met so many people that you could definitely say are so beautiful they could be displayed in a museum as an art exhibit, but never in your twenty years of living have you ever seen yourself go silent at the sight of a beautiful person— your brain feels like it's malfunctioning, you're not exactly sure what to say, you open your mouth but no words come out, and you almost consider punching yourself because you probably look like a complete idiot right now.

"oh? you don't go here?"

that's what you decided to say? of all things you could've said, of course he doesn't go to your school, he just implied that the other team belonged to his school, why would that be the best thing to say out of everything else?

the stranger looks up, then he laughs, and your not sure how you keep your composure. "oh no, i go to vixsith" he replies, using his thumb to point backward, though he's not pointing at anything in specific, just pointing to point. you're not sure why you pick up on that, or why you're even watching where his hands are going anyway.

"your insulting your own team?" you inquire, and he laughs even harder at your question, covering his mouth with his hand. "this is about school spirit, have faith in them" you joke, and all he does is continue laughing, crossing his arms as he tries his best to calm himself down.

"i'm being honest, the only person on that team who knows how to play is mark, he deserves better" he remarks, eyes focused on the player he just named. he then seems to have a random realization and turns to you once again. "i'm dejun by the way" he holds out his hand for you to take, and you just blink at it like an idiot, before coming back to your senses and quickly shaking his head.

"y/n".

at the sound of your name, he seems to have yet another realization. he points at you and narrows his eyes. "we have a mutual friend don't we?"

at the question, you narrow your eyes, cogs turn in your brain as you think about who he could possibly be referring to, then it comes to you—

"guanheng".

the two of you say his name in unison, and the two of you both try to stifle your laughs as the realization dawns on you. "he knows everyone i swear" you mutter, and dejun snorts, looking away from you to laugh. "even from other schools.."

"oh we go way back" dejun responds, moving his hair out of his face. "middle school actually" he adds, and your eyes widen, as if your shocked, of course guanheng has friends from way back when, why are you surprised?

you don't feel as surprised as you do lucky..

"was he still as inhumanely flexible as he is now?"

dejun laughs again, he does that a lot. "yes, yes he was".

"he talks about you a lot.. you know" dejun comments out of the blue, tucking his hair behind his ear. "he basically lives with us, and if he's not sleeping over we always assume he's with you".

"oh so that's why he always just.. appears and disappears.."

"yeah that's kind of his thing" dejun scrunches his face, looking bored by the lack of action happening on the field. "i can never find him unless he directly comes to me first" he doesn't look at you as he says those words, but you're very much staring at him the whole time.

you almost feel like a creep in a way, you want to punch yourself in the face again for continuing to stare at him. you blink a couple times before turning your face away, trying to correctly articulate your thoughts.

"both teams suck".

you only say those words because you want him to continue talking, you want to hear him talk, it's nothing that crazy, having a conversation with him is just so intriguing to you for some reason..

"well yeah— but you guys get more training so you have an advantage" he comments, narrowing his eyes at the field, arms crossed over his chest. "the guys on our team have no idea what their doing".

"do you like football?" you ask, not sure why your so interested in his answer, you just are, you have no explanation for your sudden intrigue of this charming oreo–haired boy that goes to your rival school.

your much too distracted by how gorgeous he is to worry about giving yourself an explanation.

dejun laughs again, shaking his head. "not really, my dad does, so i just know things because of all his screaming and shouting" he replies, arms still crossed over his chest. "i'm not really a sports person, i do musical theater for pete's sake".

"oh so you sing?" you don't mean to ask another question, you're worried that you might be bothering dejun with your constant inquiries, but he actually seems glad, excited that someone is asking him about his major.

"well yeah" he responds, his smile growing. "all things theater, i write the songs, i act the parts, i play instruments, sometimes i even take offstage roles instead of my usual onstage ones".

he fiddles with his fingers, picking his nails. you assume, from his mannerisms, that he doesn't know what to say because most people don't really ask him about his major, or what he does, it's like he's elated that you even asked him.

"what about you?" dejun instead asks, veering away from the topic of his major and instead making yours the main topic of discussion. "what do you do?"

"health science" you say the words as if it pains you to, like it's the single most uninteresting thing you've said this whole interaction. "i know, it's boring".

dejun laughs again; "no no! i didn't say that!" he waves his hands in a disagreeing manner as he chuckles at your words. "i just don't meet a lot of people interested in pursuing science.."

"it's more of the health aspect than science actually" you mutter, and dejun just looks even more interested in what you have to say now. "but science is a big part of it so.."

"you must be very smart then" dejun remarks, smiling as the two of you make eye contact.

"i'm alright" you just say, finally pulling down your formerly rolled up sweater sleeves now that the air outside has begun cooling down. you only lightly shiver, and you glance back at dejun one more time..

"where do you think guanheng is?" he asks, clearing his throat as he scours the still full and lively bleachers, searching for your friend. "off doing whatever he does.."

you're currently very distracted, and you don't even realize what's going on when you snap out of whatever daze you were having and everyone is suddenly standing up and cheering like there's no tomorrow.

dejun looks over at you, and he can clearly see how confused you are because he laughs for one last time. "you guys won!" he somehow manages his voice over the roar of the crowd. "congrats!"

he's yelling, but he's not exactly loud, he still manages to sound so gentle whilst yelling at you.

"thanks!" you blurt out as a reply, and you feel like a complete idiot for that, but dejun smiles, so you don't feel all that embarrassed.

the game is over, and people are going to start to leave soon. dejun looks back, spotting a group he recognizes, then he looks over at you, a smile on his face. "i've gotta go now" he says, almost disappointed in a sense. "it was nice meeting you y/n!"

you nod, not knowing what to say. "yeah! you too!"

you too? you too?? is that what you say y/n!?

dejun gives one more beautiful smile before heading off, and you blink, having absolutely no idea what just transpired in those few minutes.

holy shit i forgot to ask—

but you couldn't— because he was gone, gone in such a flash you couldn't even spot his oreo hair in the crowd.

YOU FORGOT TO ASK FOR HIS NUMBER. YOU FEEL SO STUPID, your not even sure why you wanted to ask him that, but in the back of your mind that was the question you were preparing yourself to ask from the moment he told you his name, that he was friends with guanheng, the moment the two of you began laughing about your majors and stuff like that. the whole interaction with a pretty oreo–haired musical theater major at a football game is all that you were thinking about last night, as you tried to find pretty much anything else to think about as you struggled to sleep.

how did you forget to ask him for his number? you want to smash your face into your computer screen because of how stupid you are. you said "you too!" like a fucking idiot, but maybe you were just too distracted, he was smiling at you with that beautiful smile and staring at you with his absolutely gorgeous fucking eyes, how could you even think coherently whilst a beautiful man (from a whole other school but who cares?) was staring at you with his pretty brown eyes like you were the only person in the world?

okay your pushing it now..

but there is just something, something about him that drew you in, your not sure why you were so adamant on getting to know him, but he was just so— you can't explain it right now! you are currently very sleep deprived and also moody because of your disappearing roommate that always decides to appear at the worst times.

you don't remember the last time you ever got an actual eight hours of sleep, these days that seems like a dream more than a reality, but guangheng is just never tired. he's somehow always up, doing something, hanging out with people, he never sits down in once place and just stays still.

when he walks into the room, hands on his hips and gaze immediately focused on you, you barely bat an eye at him, just spare him a quick glance, noticing how pissed off he looks. you scour your mind for an explanation as to why he must be mad now, probably something someone said, or he got into yet another argument with one of his classmates, your not even sure anymore, you don't know where he is half the time.

"could you do me a favor?"

you almost laugh out loud, not at him, but at the idea that he wanted you to do him a favor. at this point, he probably owes you thousands of favors considering how many you do for him, but he seems upset, and you don't have any of that pettiness leftover to ignore him, so you move your eyes to look over at him.

"why should i?"

okay— you lied, your still just a little petty, but you totally have every right to be! guanheng deserves just some sass from you after disappearing each and every time he decides to take you out somewhere.

guanheng blinks, then he pulls out the signature guanheng frown, a sad stupid frown he always makes when he wants to persuade you into doing something. you're not sure how you've even ever fallen for that signature frown, maybe it's because he's just so great at looking sad, at looking upset, he somehow always manages to make you feel bad for him, and therefore, end up doing the favor for him.

"because i'm your best friend, your roommate, and you love me so much" guanheng smiles wide, like he just found out he won the lottery, and clasps his hands together as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

"i don't know.." you mumble, looking back at your computer screen. it's a saturday, you have no classes saturday, you can just sit down, relax, be the absolute lazy motherfucker you were put on this earth to be. "i don't feel like going out today".

guanheng huffs, crossing his arms. "one last favor! just one! then i'll get off your back!"

"your horrible at following your promises, heng" you comment absentmindedly, your tone is much meaner than you intended, and guanheng's gasp is enough to tell you that he indeed takes offense to those words. "what? i'm not lying".

"y/n!" oh great, he's whining now. "i will get you anything i can, anything! just this one favor! please?"

your about to say no again— but then it's like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you get a spectacular idea. anything? he did say anything, and he can give you something you want.

the number of a pretty boy preferably!

you let out a sigh, and guanheng knows what that sigh means, it means you agree. "fine, i'll do you this favor, but this is the last one".

guanheng's smile brightens, and he cheers like a kid that just got the best christmas present one can receive. "thank you! thank you! thank you! i love you!" he kisses your cheek, and skips off to another room.

"get your jacket!" he shouts, already rooms away from you, so he has to shout.

"what?"

"get your jacket! were leaving!"

you furrow your eyebrows at his words, but you don't say anymore, because you did agree to do this favor for him after all.

so, without questioning it more, you get up and go grab your jacket.

"SO WHEN YOU SAID A FAVOR..?" you don't continue on with your sentence, pausing to let out a breath as you shove your hands into the pockets of your jackets. guanheng looks over at you, and he just chuckles at the unreadable expression on your face. when you agreed to do this favor for him, you didn't know it included leaving your dorm and having to be dragged out to yet another unfamiliar place. "did you forget to mention the fact that we'd have to leave the school?" you finally finish, eyes focused and narrowed on your friend, who again, smiles at you with that signature guanheng smile.

"it's a saturday, most of us don't have classes anyway, they won't question it".

"is that supposed to make me feel better?" you ask to yourself more than to guanheng, but he hears you anyway, and that results in a snicker from him. despite that, he doesn't respond to your silent question, making you frown just the slightest.

"stop pouting".

"i'm not pouting" your quick to rebut, rolling your eyes at his words. you almost bump into him when he suddenly stops, and your about to yell at him again for being stupid when he places a finger on your mouth.

he knocks on the door in front of him, not paying attention to the burning glare your currently sending him.

"i'll bite off your finger" you threaten, moving forward and pretending your about to do that. guanheng squeaks and quickly moves his fingers away from your lips, a flash of true fear in his eyes. all you do is give him a menacing and totally not threatening smile.

"psycho.." he whispers, he looks like he's about to say more, but the door opens, so he closes his mouth and turns around.

"come on!"

he grabs your wrist and drags you into the dorm, and you felt your heart rate increase. maybe he knew these people, but you sure didn't! what if they thought you were weird? you want to pull him back and tell him that he shouldn't just drag you into some strangers dorm, but he is much too distracted to even notice your uneasiness.

"i've returned!" guanheng yells, letting go of your hand to place his hands on his hips, as if he was proud of himself.

"can you slam the door on him!?"

"ten! come to me!"

before you can ask him what the hell is going on, he sprints down the hallway, you assume to go after this ten person, you just blink, shoving your hands into your pockets as you begin to rock back and forth on your heels.

"hello stranger!" an unfamiliar voice exclaims, you look up and come face to face with a pink–haired boy with a bright smile.

"hello" you reply politely. "i like your hair" you immediately remark, pointing at his hair like an idiot because you don't want to touch it and make him uncomfortable.

his face lights up, as if you were a millionaire that just gifted him a life changing amount of money. it was as if no one ever told him that his hair was pretty before, or that they liked it. he jumps up and squeals, excited. "thank you! ten said it was stupid!"

you furrow your eyebrows, then chuckle. "what? no it's very pretty, pink suits you!"

"hah! i told you guanheng! pink does suit me!" he yells down the hall, and you can hear the small shout of rebuttal that guanheng responds with from all the way down the hall. "thanks! only a few people actually noticed that i dyed my hair".

you laugh again, okay he is very funny, you like him!

"oh! i'm yangyang! the nicest person who lives here!" he introduces himself in the same fashion a reality tv star would, and quickly grabs your hand to shake it. you don't complain, just laugh again as he vigorously shakes your hand.

"y/n, it's nice to meet you".

he gasps, recognizing your name. "oh you're the famous y/n! guanheng always talks about you, for a long time i was convinced he was in love with you!"

"why are you tarnishing my brand!?" guanheng shouts again, sounding even more pissed off than he did before. "huh!? liu yangyang!?"

yangyang shakes his head, ignoring guanheng's loud shouts and flapping his hand, mocking him. you laugh as you watch him mock the other, who has absolutely no idea what he's doing right now.

"you have a project to do!" another unfamiliar voice shouts.

yangyang gasps again, suddenly looking stressed. "fuck yeah— um!" he turns around and reaches over to grab his laptop, then he turns back to you and gives you a smile.

"yeah, my apologies" you just wave it off, urging him to keep going. "um i'm doing a project where i have to interview people on their majors.. trust me i don't know either, but! i've interviewed like the whole school already, and i need one more person.."

"and that person is me?" you ask, but you already know the answer to that question, yangyang nods, much more quickly than he seemed to intend to.

"yes!" he exclaims, but then he clears his throat. "but only if you want to, i don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do—"

"no no no it's fine!" you cut into his sentence, shaking your head. yangyang, again, looks elated that you agreed.

okay so this was the favor guanheng wanted you to for him! (not for him necessarily— but his friend). he could've just told you about this straight up instead of being vague about it, it wasn't even that burdening of a favor, not like the other ones you've done for him.

"guanheng! why don't you bring him around more often? he's better than you are!" yangyang yells again, probably for the nth time that hour.

guanheng doesn't answer, but you knows he's pouting, you can just sense it at this point, you call it your "roommate instincts".

"oh hi y/n".

now that's a voice you recognize, and you almost don't believe your eyes when the one person that kept you up all night walks into the room and smiles as he sees your figure. "dejun, hi" you smile back at him, hoping you don't sound as awkward as you feel.

dejun looks so so pretty, as he always does. he fiddles with the necklace hanging around his neck, his eyes lingering on you for an unspecified amount of time.

"ten hit me with his shoe" guanheng suddenly storms into the room, arms crossed over his chest. "asshole.." he mutters under his breath, huffing like some sort of baby.

dejun then laughs, covering his mouth with his hand, and that causes you to laugh, turning your head to the side as to not make it obvious.

guanheng exchanges glances between the both of you, a prominent glare in his eyes, but then the look in his eyes changes, and he points at the two of you. "you two have met?" he asks.

dejun pauses, still humored by the previous words said by guanheng, and your brain almost malfunctions once again. "i— um" great, you just sound so natural and not awkward.

"we met at the game" dejun immediately says, saving you the awkwardness of having to collect your words in your brain. you thank whatever god or deity up there for dejun's quick response, and he just flashes you that familiar pretty smile. "yesterday, you know, while you were off doing who knows what.."

guanheng gasps, looking at dejun like he'd just cursed his entire bloodline. "you— your just such a bitch! you know!?"

"ow! don't punch me! i'm fragile!"

guanheng lands one more punch on his shoulder, and it gets one more squeak out of dejun, who jumps once again. "i don't care, your horrible".

yangyang blinks, probably already used to their little quarrels. he then turns to you, just shaking his head as they continue to whisper–argue. "so, what do you major in?"

it's almost like you totally forgot, his project, the thing that guanheng dragged you here to help him with. "health sciences, i take courses in everything related to healthcare and like— half actual science courses?"

"so your looking to work in healthcare?"

"yeah basically, i've already taken courses in emergency service's, becoming a paramedic is my top option!"

yangyang gasps at your words, he looks over at guanheng, then quickly back at you. "are you single?" he asks, again with the same quickness.

dejun snorts, hitting guanheng as begins laughing hard. guanheng scrunches his nose, staring at yangyang like he's crazy. "what kind of question is that!?"

"what? that is a totally valid question to ask!" he exclaims, crossing his arms. "it's for my project! clearly!" he lies.

"your— oh my god, unbelievable".

"so are you?" yangyang asks again, looking at you with suspenseful eyes. he is very much interested in your answer it seems.

your finally finished with your laughing fit, and nod, still very amused. "yes i am, i'm single".

"good, this is very important information".

yangyang gives you a giddy look, and dejun just continues to laugh.

you're not sure why your so focused on him though..

YOU AGAIN, HAVE NO LUCK SLEEPING that night, and after the first hour and a half of tossing and turning, you gave up on trying to chase slumber you knew you wouldn't be able to catch. you assumed that the longer you stared at your computer screen, the quicker you'd get tired and the quicker your eyes would become heavier, but no! it's now almost two in the morning and you still aren't sleepy in the tiniest bit, you didn't know insomnia got this bad, if you knew this prior to coming back to school this year, you would've bought more of those sleeping pills. you lean your chin onto your hand as your computer continues playing audio from a random episode of brooklyn nine–nine.

the millions of thoughts rampant in your mind were probably distracting you, rendering it impossible to sleep, and also rendering it impossible to focus, seeing as your just looking around your room, which is pretty much boring you considering all you've been doing for the past thirty minutes is looking around your own room.

you think your gonna bore yourself to death, you pretty much prepare to stay up for the next five hours until your alarm rings and startles you out of your daze (which has happened way too many times for your comfort), but then your phone rings.

it's almost two in the morning, who exactly is calling you at this time? who knows that you're awake at 1:56 in the morning and decided to call you? they probably knew you'd pick up..

and you know who it is— it's so obvious.

dejun.

you don't mean to pick up your ringing phone as fast as you do, you want to punch yourself in the face for how desperate you seem, and you almost don't answer the phone because you feel so embarrassed. "hello?"

"hi!" dejun sounds way too joyous for someone who is sleep deprived, and up at 1:57 am. "sorry? was that too loud?"

"no no your fine" you reply, even though the speaker is on, guanheng can quite literally sleep through anything, there was one time the fire alarm was going off for a good ten minutes and he didn't even budge. "guanheng is a pretty heavy sleeper".

"he's lucky, i can't sleep" the sound of shuffling on the other line resonates in your ears, and dejun huffs, sounding frustrated. "you were the only person i assumed would be awake".

you snicker. "why is that?" you inquire, he was right, of course, but you just wanted to hear his reasoning, and also wanted him to keep talking.

you really like dejun's voice for some reason, it just scratches the right part of your brain. in these past two days you realized that you like a lot of things about dejun, many more things than you thought you might.

"your major has the word 'science' in it so i just assumed the amount of sleep you get is slim to none".

now that gets another laugh out of you, you laugh much more than you intend to, but also— it's dejun, and you can't resist the loud laugh that escapes your lips.

oh your such a desperate little bitch—

"well you'd be correct" you respond, humming as you pick at your nails. "at this point sleeping is beginning to make me tired".

there's a long pause, and your worried you made everything more awkward, because you don't hear anything from the other line. for a moment, you're almost convinced dejun hung up on you, but before you can speak he beats you to it.

"i can keep you company until you get tired" he immediately suggests, and you almost choke on your spit when he says that. "i don't mind".

you go silent, feeling as if all logical thoughts in your mind have suddenly disappeared into the air. you might sound like a complete loser right now but that was just so sweet of him to suggest, you smile much too wide for your own comfort, but you don't even think about that, because your just so charmed by the words.

"you are.." you pause, clasping your hands together as you think about what words to say next. "yeah yeah, that's fine" you finally continue, your new words having no connection to the previous ones you previously said, you just hope dejun doesn't notice.

"good! it would've been awkward if you said no" dejun giggles, and you just can't get over how cute he sounds. "plus, i wouldn't want you to be tired in the morning, lord knows how much you do in a day.."

you feel an unfamiliar fluttering feeling in your stomach, because he is so considerate? he wants to help you, he's just being so nice to you at.. two! two in the morning! you bite down on your bottom lip, hoping it doesn't bleed from how hard your tooth drives into it.

"aww, you care about me that much?" you ask, just wanting to hear him talk again. you feel like a teenage girl giggling and kicking her feet over a high school crush, except you can't kick your feet and giggle because then dejun would know.

"okay, be quiet, don't make me hang up".

"okay okay don't do that!" you say, totally meaning to sound as desperate as possible this time. "if your not here i won't ever fall asleep".

you hear something similar to a squeal on the other line, as if dejun had heard your words and just freaked out.

the realization honestly boosted your ego.

"you— you suck!"

"you offered to help me jun, don't get like this now!"

you're not sure how long it goes on for, but you swear you two laugh all night while on the phone.

"SO WHOSE THE GUY?" the question is asked so abruptly that at first, you assume you heard your friend wrong. when you look up, he stares at you with that deadpanned gaze, and that's when you realize he's completely serious. you chuckle at the realization that your friend is sure that your in love with someone (well you are— your just surprised that he figured out so quickly). "what guy? there's a guy?" you tilt your head, acting as if you have no idea what he could possibly be talking about. you giggle as you watch him slowly get even more irritated by your answer.

"you always come in here looking a little less miserable each day" chenle observes, leaning forward as he narrows his eyes at you. "someone is making you excited to live life?"

"do i always come in here looking miserable?" you ask, completely diverting your attention from chenle's previously asked question, which makes him pout.

"yep!" renjun exclaims, sitting beside you, he crosses his legs in his chair and presses his lips into a thin line. "so! who is he?"

the two seem way too excited to know about your never talked about before crush on dejun. now— you didn't know it was so obvious that you were now smitten for this new guy, you're usually the friend that's known from straying the furthest away from love, you don't remember any people you've legitimately liked that weren't elementary school crushes..

so yeah, your friends totally had every right to be surprised, because your absolutely smitten for a man and they just want to know who this man that is making you so happy is!

you hate that you give in so easily. "he's one of guanheng's friends.." you mutter, picking at your nails, looking down to make sure you don't witness renjun and chenle's reactions with your own two eyes.

renjun gasps, sounding like those ladies at the hair salons that just heard the juiciest gossip. "ooh! who? does he go here? do we know him? is he pretty?"

chenle looks over at renjun like he's crazy, that familiar judging stare in his eyes as he watches renjun lean closer to you with a totally not creepy smile on his face. "don't you think your acting a little too interested in this?"

"i just want to know!" renjun shouts, playfully glaring at the younger. he then turns back to you, and you assume his cheeks must be hurting from how hard he seems to be smiling. "tell me please?"

"he's— he's just your run of the mill pretty guy who is nice, and smart, and absolutely adorable who tells horrible jokes that still end up being funny in some way and he has a pretty laugh and i just love his voice, and talking to him, and, i can't even explain it because it'll sound stupid!"

"you sound like a psycho" chenle immediately says, laughing at you like you just confessed to an atrocious crime against humanity. you sink into your chair, slumping towards the side.

"aww! the pessimistic y/n is in love!" renjun squeals, again, like those women at the hair salon who just heard the juiciest gossip. he grabs your arm and shakes you vigorously, causing you to get dizzy in the slightest bit. "i can't believe i've lived to see this day!" he shouts, continuing to shake you as you can't properly get out your cries for help.

"renjun you're gonna kill him" chenle pinches the older in the arm, making him yelp and jump, he giggles as he witnesses the glare the older male sends him, his crushing grip remains around your arm, but you don't even mention at this point, because at least he's not shaking you anymore.

"sorry" he remarks, definitely not sorry as he squeezes your arm once again, beginning to get overly excited. "it's just.. exciting you know?"

"it's exciting that i'm in love with someone?" you raise an eyebrow, and though you expect renjun to respond, chenle quickly does.

"yep! you'll finally be gone!"

his cheer results in a gasp of offense from you, and all chenle does is giggle in victory.

THE ONE THING YOU'VE LEARNED FROM THE now excessive amounts of times you've hung around guanheng's other friends is that they're loud, they are all really loud (even sicheng! who, for a good majority of the time, is always quietly staring at his friends with clear concern in his eyes), even if they don't mean to, they're somehow always either yelling, shouting, or making some sort of scene. they're all just naturally hilarious, like comedians that don't realize they're comedians because they're just being themselves. in the past few weeks, it's like you spend more time with these people that don't go to your school in comparison to people that actually go to your school and that you can see easily.

but if you're being honest, you don't really mind that your spending all your free time with them, because they are indeed very fun to be around (and you get to see dejun much more regularly, which is something you rather enjoy), and because life would be insanely boring if guanheng didn't decide to drag you out of the dorm every other day to go do stupid things with his friends that go to a whole other school.

"you are such a cheater! i won fair and square!"

"you did not! your the cheater! sicheng is my witness!"

sicheng, who was not listening to anything either ten or yangyang had to say, looked over at the younger with a look of concern washed over his features. he blinks as he's suddenly put on the spot, smiling nervously as the youngest stares intensely at him, waiting for his answer. "uh.. i— i don't know".

his delivery makes you burst out laughing, and you cover your mouth with your hand as to not make yourself look like an absolute fool. you don't even realize that you picked up on one of dejun's habits, you might be spending too much time around him..

actually, forget that! there is no such thing as spending too much time around dejun, and that might make you sound like a "simp" but you don't care.

you've fallen, and you've fallen hard.

"okay.." guanheng presses his lips into a thin line, ignoring the way ten and yangyang now begin discussing the logistics of cheating in card games, unfortunately dragging poor sicheng into their argument. he turns to dejun and scoots closer to him. "can you do me a favor?"

dejun groans, playfully rolling his eyes. you assume he's done as much favors for guanheng as you have, and you barely stifle the snicker that dares to escape your lips.

dejun hears the sound, and smacks your arm hard, making you jump. he only gives you a teasing smile before turning to guanheng, having to give him a response.

"at what lengths do i have to go for this favor?"

guanheng scoffs, crossing his arms. "it's nothing insane or anything, i just want you to get me something.."

"and you can't get it yourself because..?"

"i have no money on me" and there goes that signature guanheng frown, dejun opens his mouth to argue but then he shuts it so quickly it seems like he just got out in some sort of trance.

"fine fine" dejun rolls his eyes once again, surrendering much too quickly. "you owe me though—"

"take y/n with you".

there's a pause, both you and dejun go very silent for a moment. whilst dejun is just confused, you absolutely know what guanheng is doing, and you have to use every bit of patience in your body to restrain yourself instead of jumping over the table and tackling him right then and there.

dejun is clearly clueless, though, because he just raises an eyebrow. "why?" he inquires, somehow sounding so sweet even though his question is asked with so much confusion.

"y/n knows what i want".

what a smooth lie, dejun glances over at you, and you just shrug, having no idea what more to say. "he needs to take a walk anyway" guanheng lies again, wow, two in a row! he's on a roll.

"okay..?"

so that's how you find yourself on a walk with the person that you are very much in love with, a somehow comfortable silence spread between the two of you as dejun hums an unfamiliar tune to himself, hands in his pockets, eyes closed as he slowly sways back and forth.

he looks very peaceful, just doing what he does, being effortlessly pretty as he does so, and you observe his behavior, almost entranced by it in a sense.

you only stop when he speaks up—

"do you think they're still arguing?" he suddenly asks, and you snap out of whatever daze you were having, praying that he totally didn't notice you admiring him like a creep. "or are they just.. conversing calmly now?"

you don't want to seem like even much more of a weirdo, but you feel like he asked that question just as an excuse to talk to you, and maybe your thinking too much into it, but you've definitely done that before, so you know what it looks like.

"i hope they aren't still arguing" you answer, and dejun looks up at you, smiling. "that'd be a long ass time to argue".

"well they like arguing just to argue" dejun replies, fiddling with his necklace. "but they're harmless.. for the most part".

his delivery makes you laugh, and you look down at your shoes. "you're a very calm person, you know, the opposite of guanheng".

the sudden statement from dejun makes you look up at him once again, and this time, he's staring directly at you, as if he had been waiting to make eye contact with you the whole time. "calm?"

"well compared to my roommates you are" he giggles, and maybe he doesn't mean to, but he stares at so intensely that your legs feel shaky.

"who knows? maybe i'm a fraud" you tease, purposefully leaning closer to him so your words have an effect. dejun's eyes widen, and he lightly leans away from you, looking speechless. "you'd never know, though".

you don't know how you suddenly got so bold, or why you were so amused at the sight of dejun freaking out, you feel like some sort of genius for what you just did, and you snicker at yourself before leaning back.

dejun takes in a deep breath, looking like he's trying to fix himself. he clears his throat and stumbles through his next words. "i— uh.. you're such an idiot!" he decides to say, crossing his arms over his chest.

your not sure how the two of you became so casual in this amount of time, a few weeks ago, dejun wasn't such a regular figure in your life, and you were just any other college student doing their best to get by, not thinking about falling in love with a gorgeous oreo–haired man—

but you're also not complaining.

you aren't sure how you got so lucky, how it just happened that you could continue to spend time with the cute boy you met at a stupid football game simply because the two of you shared mutual friends, it's one of times guanheng's actually done you a favor, without even realizing it too!

"okay i'm sorry" you giggle, shoving your hands into your pockets, you once again begin taking from dejun's habits and sway back and forth. "seriously!"

"you're unbelievable" dejun exaggerates, rolling his eyes, but it wasn't serious, and you knew it wasn't serious. "but i meant what i said, your calm".

you raise an eyebrow at him, wanting to know more about the observations he has about you. "could you elaborate on that?" you don't mean to laugh, but you do, and it causes dejun to laugh too.

"you just.. seem content with what you have" he explains, but he doesn't explain it enough, so he continues. "like someone could get you a piece of paper as a birthday gift and you'd be pleased".

you laugh, hard, because he somehow managed to get you spot on. you almost feel like he is reading your mind, because he nailed you down with each word. "really? i guess i am like that".

"ah, so my prediction was right then!"

you laugh at how glad he is. "yeah, i am truly not that hard to please, gifts are gifts and if someone gets one for me, there's no use in being mad if the gift isn't something i like, at least they remembered to get me something!"

dejun stares at you for a specifically long time, looking you up and down. he stares at you with warm eyes, a gaze that seems so near and dear to his heart, a gaze so loving that it looked like he was about to get down on one knee and propose to you.

"i like any and all gifts" you continue.

"are there any specific kinds of gifts you like?"

dejun asks that question in a tone that makes it seem like he's totally not trying to sound suspicious, but he is totally asking you that question for a very specific reason.

guanheng must've told him something..

at least, that's what you assume, but dejun is patiently waiting for your answer, and you can't daydream the whole time about the true meaning of his words.

"i like books, plushies, music tapes, vinyl's, you know.. regular gifts that people like receiving".

dejun hums, as if he's noting down the information you're telling him in his mind, still, you don't say anything about his mannerisms, just keep it to yourself.

"are you noting down my reply?"

"i'm just keeping it in mind!" he says, smiling brightly at you. "just in case your special occasion comes up and i don't know what to get you".

oh! so guanheng definitely did tell him something..

"i mean— were friends! any gift from you will be a good gift".

at the word friends, dejun seems to pause, cogs in his brains turning as he tries to process your words. you don't understand why he would be trying to understand your words, because the two of you were clearly friends, did he think you two were something else?

you see the flash of disappointment on his face, but it quickly reverts back to a smile and he simply acts like nothing happened. "sorry, the word 'friends' just caught me off guard".

a lie..

how interesting.

"seriously though, i just want to get you a gift you'll appreciate forever".

but you're already enough for me— do you know how much you've changed my life?

your own thoughts manage to surprise you, because the words that you just told yourself in your own mind startle you enough that you make a judging face at yourself. luckily, dejun is turned away from you, so he doesn't notice.

"well that's thoughtful of you".

"i try my best.." he responds, finally looking back at you with that same loving stare, one that wants to lure you in and make you trip on your own feet.

for some reason, the two of you stop. there's an uncharacteristically long pause, like the world just decided to cease for a moment, and you both are completely stuck in place, just there, staring at each other.

dejun's eyes move, as if scanning your face like a camera, and they (of course) stop at your lips. he stares at them for what seems like forever, and it almost looks like he's restraining himself, but by the way he bites his bottom lip, it's clear—

he wants to kiss you.

and maybe there's a small voice at the back of his head that tells him to cut it out, because he almost immediately snaps out of whatever daze he was having, and clears his throat, his cheeks going a bright red.

"uh— sorry, yeah, um, we should get going" he says, shaking his head as he pulls his sleeves down.

"guanheng will yell at us if we're late".

okay, so he just decides to not talk about it? you want to ask him why he didn't just do it, because he clearly wanted to, but before you can even open your mouth, or get any words out, he grabs your hand and the two of you continue walking back to the group.

he doesn't say anything more, doesn't try to make anymore small talk, and while you do want to bring up what just happened there, you don't.

you just bask in the feeling of dejun's hands intertwined with your own.

it's a good feeling, you decide.

THAT MOMENT IS STUCK ON YOUR MIND for what seems like years. you can't get over it! how he was looking at you, how he clearly wanted to kiss you, but for some reason, decided to stop himself from doing so. you're not sure why you didn't just tell him that it was okay, that you would be completely fine with him kissing you, but you guess that you're just a complete idiot as well, because you just stayed silent throughout the whole thing, the two of you equally deciding in silence to not bring it up, just sitting next to each other in awkwardly for the rest of the night.

and yeah, it's become normal for dejun to constantly run through your mind these days, it's like he has his own subsection in your mind, dedicated to thoughts about him and him only, but it's like he's just become rampant in there ever since that.. thing he did (or should you say, didn't do, considering he decided to not kiss you when the opportunity was right there), maybe you should've pulled him in, maybe you should've (for once) been impulsive and done the first thing put to your mind.

and this crawls through your mind for days, then those days become a good week and a half. now— you and dejun aren't not talking or anything, it was just sort of difficult to look at him without thinking about that.

you're so into your thoughts these days, that you are much more spacey during your classes, at home, and somehow, guanheng picks up on your weird turn, which is crazy, because guanheng was the last person you expected to notice something like that, he usually never notices most things in front of him anyway.

"okay, what the fuck happened?" he decides to randomly drop it on you when he seems to have had enough, which is funny, because he's technically the person that started the whole thing.

you look up from your phone, blinking at him like he just said something out of this world. "hm?" he scoffs at your lack of a response, shoving your shoulder, which results in a glare from you.

"what happened?" he asks again, this time without the extra swear word, he makes himself comfortable on the other side of the couch. "you are acting weird" he points at you accusingly, like you'd just been accused of a crime and he was trying to figure out if you were truly suspicious.

"i don't know what your talking about.."

"stop stalling!" he complains, grabbing your arm and beginning to shake you back and forth. "tell me! you can't keep acting weird and just not tell me what's wrong".

now you want to tell him, but in your mind it sounds so stupid that you feel like guanheng would laugh at you the moment you uttered the first few words of your sentence. "you're going to laugh".

guanheng gasps, offended by your response, though it is true, he just wants to be dramatic. "i won't! i'm concerned! i'm being a good roommate and asking you what's wrong!"

so, you roll your eyes, taking a deep breath. "okay so hypothetically.." you begin, because you have no other idea how to start your sentence.

hypothetically just means = it was indeed not hypothetical!

"hypothetically, uh huh.." guanheng hums, understanding the true meaning your words have. "okay sorry, continue".

"let's just say that, hypothetically, i am totally in love with one of your best friends, and that friend totally wanted to kiss me but then chickened out last minute and like an idiot i didn't say anything and i have no idea how to go about it".

guanheng's eyes widen at your words, and his jaw almost drops. "hypothetically though" you add to the end of your sentence after a long pause.

"right right! hypothetically.." he nods, though he can't contain his look of excitement at the words. "and you didn't kiss him back!?"

you're almost knocked off the chair from how intense his yell is. you groan and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed and ashamed. "i didn't know how to bring it up and not be awkward!"

"just say 'hey dejun you could totally kiss me and it'd be fine because we are both mortifyingly in love with each other'!" guanheng shouts, louder than his previous words. he's always so straight up, and you almost wish you didn't tell him anything. "it's that easy!"

"it is not!" you shout in rebuttal, crossing your arms and frowning. your acting like guanheng at this point, but that's not what you're noticing at this very moment. "it's easy for you! you date people and you kiss people all the time! i don't do that!"

"excuses excuses!"

you're at a loss for words at his lackluster words, you once again, frown and turn away from him. "i'm sorry! i have never been hardcore in love with someone like this before! i don't know how to talk about it!"

guanheng looks like he's about to yell again, but he takes a deep breath and relaxes himself, leaning back in the couch. "okay, i'm sorry for yelling.."

"y/n, you really just need to tell him how you feel straight up, because if you keep stalling than none of you will end up confessing in the end and you'll both just be going through a loop of 'should we or should we not?'"

you blink, staring at guanheng for a good few minutes, honestly surprised. this is probably the best advice he's ever given you, usually, you’re the one that has to give him advice because he always ends up doing something stupid and has someone that wants to murder him because of that stupid thing he did.

"that was actually.. good advice" you reply, laughing at guanheng's eye roll. he just shoves you, making sure he does extra hard this time to get his point across.

"shut up! i always give good advice!"

"you usually don't give any advice at all.." you mutter, running a hand through your hair as you look away from your roommate, who just glares at you like you just committed a federal offense.

"say something again and i'm gatekeeping dejun from you!"

"your what!?"

at the sound of your shout, guanheng giggles as he scurries away, proud of himself for the words that escape his lips.

YOU'RE NOT SURE HOW YOU SOMEHOW LET guanheng drag you off to a party on a friday night where all you wanted to do is relax. parties have never truly been your thing, but that's because being surrounded by a bunch of drunk and high adults just isn't your idea of fun, you're also just not a big drinker, so the only reason you usually even end up at parties is to take guanheng home when he gets too drunk and can't fully articulate his thoughts. so, the fact that guanheng was somehow able to convince you to get out of the house and go to a party when you truly should've been at home, watching horrible sitcoms.

but no, you're here! and you can't leave without guanheng because if you did, he'd probably find a way to end up killing himself, or he'd say the wrong thing to the wrong person and would end up getting punched in the face.

so you find yourself in a familiar spot, your back against a wall as you stare at your phone, somehow able to ignore the hundreds of screaming drunk people that surround you, it's become a skill of yours, and you're not sure how exactly it developed, you've just become such a natural when it comes to ignoring others.

guanheng, of course, has already walked off to do his own thing, but not before reminding you of the advice he'd given you a few days prior, yelling at you to 'just tell the boy you like him!'

maybe his advice is burned into your brain, because now all you wish is that you were with dejun, talking about something stupid, or just talking.

and there must've been somebody listening in on your thoughts, because he suddenly walks around the corner, head whipping around like he's searching for someone.

your not trying to look at him, but he catches your gaze immediately, and he skips towards you like a kid in a candy store.

"hi" he greets, a little giggle to his words. his face is a shade of bright red as he giggles once again, though nothing's funny. "pretty".

he whispers the last word, with the intention of you not hearing it, but his mind must be too clouded for him to realize that he said it much louder than he thought he did, but you don't say anything, just hum.

"hello" you greet back, and he laughs once again, covering his hand with his mouth. "are you okay?"

a loud snicker leaves his lips, and he moves closer to you to link his arm with yours. he rests his head onto your arm, a content smile spreading across his face. "i'm drunk".

his honest answer makes you question his state for a moment, since when do drunk people admit that they're drunk? or maybe he's only just tipsy.. your not sure, but he's not acting like a totally sober person right now.

"are you sure?" you raise an eyebrow, dejun just responds with a small 'hmph', and he keeps your arm linked with his. "dejun".

"yes! i am!" he yells as rebuttal, shaking your arm a few times. "do you wanna smell my breath?"

"oh no no no" you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. he laughs at you, his cheeks as pink as yangyang's hair, he grabs your hands, and whilst yours are cold, his are burning hot. "okay you have energy".

"i'm sorry" he suddenly blurts, another snort escaping his lips as he leans his head against your chest. you give him a look, confused as to why he felt the need to apologize.

"for what?"

"for doing that thing" dejun responds, closing his eyes as he sways back and forth. "i probably made everything awkward, i didn't mean to".

that's what he thinks? he thinks that he made everything awkward? you feel your heart break at the realization, but all dejun does is laugh sadly.

"you didn't— you didn't make everything awkward, it's okay".

dejun laughs again, clearing his throat. "just tell the truth, y/n.."

you chuckle, not at dejun, just at his words. he wants you to tell the truth? fine.. you will!

"dejun" you begin, using your pointer finger to tilt his chin up so the two of you make eye contact, you watch as his eyes widen, but he doesn't move, just lets you do your thing. "you can kiss me, it's okay".

he blinks, as if trying to figure out if you were lying or not. he opens his mouth, but no words come out, so he closes it again. "it is?" he asks again, just wanting reassurance, you hear his voice crack, but he's getting impatient, he wants your answer.

"yeah it's fine".

that's all the conformation dejun seems to need, because he finally presses his lips to yours after what seems like years of waiting. your arms naturally rest on his waist, and there's just something, something about this that makes you smile.

there's an urgency in the way he kisses you, and his hand comes up to hold your face. he is just so desperate, and it would be a lie to say that you weren't just as desperate as he is. you'd been wanting this for so long, you don't even know how many times you thought about what it would be like to kiss dejun.

his fingers caress your cheek, and the contact feels like your skin was set ablaze. maybe this is what you needed, and you assume it's exactly what dejun needed to, because he pushes on your shoulder with a seemingly inhumane amount of force, which makes you gasp a little.

while your one arm is around his waist, the other one goes up to run your fingers through his hair, somehow causing the two of you to both smile, barely stifling your laughs.

after what seems like forever, dejun pulls away, and while you're standing there, breathless, he just smiles, relaxing as you play with his hair. "you like my hair?"

you aren't sure why out of all things, that's what he decides to ask, but you laugh, completely enamored by the boy in front of you. "yep, it's soft" you reply, biting your inner cheek. "the color suits you".

dejun tilts his head, looking up at you with his insanely pretty eyes. you just want to squish his cheeks, or wrap him in a blanket and hold him forever, you aren't sure why you just have this surge of loving emotions for absolutely no reason, maybe it's the way he's staring at you, or that he just left you breathless and did it so flawlessly.

he hums, not knowing how to respond to your compliment. he just suddenly gets shy, his ears turning red at your words.

"you're so stupid.."

that's probably his favorite phrase to say to you by now, but you don't mind, you just smile as he hides his face away from you. 

"dejun" you call out despite him being right in front of you, and he looks up at you again, gaze warm as he gives you a small smile.

"yes?"

"i love you" you immediately spout, not even surprised by how high your voice has gotten. "like— in the i'm in love with you kinda way and not in a i just want you to kiss you but not call you my boyfriend kinda way".

dejun pauses, snickering at your words, he looks at you like you're the only person in the world.

what other way could there possibly be?

but you don't get any response, at least, not from him, because all he does is lean forward and press his lips to yours.

YOU'VE NEVER REALLY BEEN A FAN OF YOUR BIRTHDAY, and you aren't sure why. it used to be a fun thing up until you turned twelve and it suddenly felt like a switch had flipped, as if your birthday was making you miserable. now it's not like you always feel depressed on your birthday, it's just that sometimes you don't want to have a huge birthday celebration. most of the time— you only request for huge birthday bashes on specific days, like when you turned ten (you were very excited about becoming a double–figured age), or when you turned eighteen (you became an adult, not that exciting but it was definitely something, you could finally legally drink), but it's truly only specific days that you don't mind having large, people–filled birthday parties.

and not only were you not exactly anticipating your birthday, you already had something even bigger on your mind the whole time.

like dejun ghosting you! that's definitely one!

okay so you tell the guy you love him, you make out with him at a party (in the opposite order but oh well), he doesn't give you a response and then he decides to just ignore you?

maybe he just didn't know what to say, and that also lead to him just not picking up his phone for a good two weeks as he completely ignored your calls and texts and voicemails!

and with this being the only thing on your mind, your birthday seemed to be the least important event at the moment.

you didn't really want to think about it, and the campus was starting to make you feel sick, so this year you planned on visiting your parents after the day was over, considering your special day fell on a friday—

but guanheng, guanheng had other plans.

he practically begged you to let him throw the party for you, he wanted to do it so bad that he vowed to never ask you for a favor ever again (which is a lie! he never keeps his promises!), he was acting so desperate, it was like you'd just saved his life or something.

you're not sure what made guanheng so eager to throw a party for you, especially because you just didn't know what you would do with a bunch of people in your dorm.

but he insisted, he would throw you the best party in the world.

and after what seemed like forever, you two finally agreed on something—

you go visit your parents friday evening, and guanheng throws your party on saturday, easy!

"what do you mean strawberry isn't a good flavor!?"

you scoff at his question, nodding your head, as if confirming your words. "i don't like strawberry flavored things, you get me a strawberry cake and i'm making you sleep outside".

your threat results in a gasp from your roommate, who looks genuinely hurt by your words as he places a hand on his chest, horrified. "you are such a horrible roommate! threatening me when i'm throwing a party for you".

"it'll be a horrible party if you get me a horribly flavored cake".

you totally mean what you say as well— you truly dislike strawberry cake.

and when guanheng said party, you didn't exactly anticipate how many people he would decide to let into your dorm.

now you know a good chunk of these people, but most of these people probably decided to come just because they knew guanheng, all they did was utter some happy birthday's and then they ran off to do their own thing.

guanheng got most things right, he just invited a bunch of people that really didn't care for your birthday, just wanted to be around him.

so it's no surprise that you felt just a little disappointed about the people at your party that just didn't give two shits about your actual birthday.

and guanheng was off doing something else, though you could actually see him this time, he was telling people where to put the gifts they brought for you.

your beginning to feel suffocated in your own dorm, which is ironic to you, because this is quite literally the place you go to get away from a bunch of people, it's the only place of yours that isn't full of people.

so, you clear your throat, and push through people to get to the door, not wanting to stay inside with all these people, you'll probably end up throwing up everywhere if you stay inside even longer.

when you exit the dorm, you take a deep breath the moment you close the door, letting your back fall against it. you immediately jump as you see a person behind the door—

okay so dejun (who you confessed your love to by the way!), is pacing back and forth in front of your door, totally stressing. you blink, a look of confusion spreading across your face. "um.."

"are you okay?"

you aren't even sure why you opened your mouth, but if you didn't, this would just go on for a good twenty more minutes.

dejun jumps, clearing his throat as he smiles awkwardly. "you— scared the shit out of me".

he's acting so casually? after not talking to you for a good two weeks!?

"sorry—"

"i'm sorry!"

dejun immediately yells, covering his face with his hands. "i'm so sorry for not texting you! or calling you! or giving you a response! it was so stupid of me to not consider your feelings and instead of just telling you straight up how i felt i decided to ignore you but i was scared that i wouldn't be able to tell you without making it awkward and it—"

"dejun" you place your hands on his shoulders, turning him around to face you. "your rambling".

he sighs, eyes darting away from your face, he frowns. "but it's not okay, i didn't talk to you, i probably came off as such an asshole! you were probably so confused, and i just.. said nothing!"

you observe his features, and he looks even more anxious at your silence. his face goes red, and his leg begins bouncing up and down, whilst his hands look for something to hold.

"okay, calm down.." you mutter, reaching for his left hand and lacing it together with yours. "it's okay, there's no need to be worried".

"i'm sorry" he says again, finally looking up at you. "i get it if you don't forgive me—"

"dejun" you cut into his sentence, squeezing his left hand. "i forgive you.. i love you".

you repeat your confession once more, and dejun blinks, processing your words.

"i love you too".

and finally, after what seems like forever, after what was so long, he gave you a response.

before you could say anything more, dejun pulls you in for a hug, his arms circling around your waist. you're a bit taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but you also don't mind, because he squeezes you tighter.

"happy birthday" he mumbles, a small smile coming to his face as he feels your hand comb through his hair. "i'm sorry".

"stop apologizing" you say, lifting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. "i forgive you, it's okay".

and it is, you're being completely honest, but dejun doesn't say more, immediately pulling you back into a warm hug

but suddenly, the door to your dorm swings open and guanheng peaks his head out, eyes widening as he witnesses the current thing. he has absolutely no context to anything which was happening at the moment, he just opened the door to witness a totally unaware dejun hugging you.

"uh.." he blinks, glancing between you two, but not asking anything, just clearing his throat. "it's time to cut the cake?" he laughs awkwardly, and you just smile, giving him a i'll be right there look.

"o...kay" he doesn't say anything more, just goes back inside and closes the door.

dejun giggles as guanheng closes the door, pulling away again to look up at you. "oh he is totally tired of us".

"we didn't do anything, though".

dejun snickers, lightly hitting your arm. "okay okay, you need to stop, it's your birthday, you have to go cut your cake".

"and.." he pauses, pulling a box out of nowhere and handing it over to you. "open your gifts".

you raise an eyebrow, confused. "where were you even hiding that?"

"that's irrelevant! it's your birthday, come on!"

and you let him drag you back into your dorm, smiling at him the whole time.

YOU ALMOST CONSIDER THE WAY YOU are acting to be absurd, and it's funny how much of another side dejun can just bring out of you. now you would never consider yourself to be a grumpy person, but people usually do describe you as having a 'natural frown'. you never really thought of yourself as being like that, but you guess that people don't see you look so happy much, because they continue to point out how it's like some glitch in the matrix to see you just a little less miserable as each day passes. chenle especially makes comments, talking about how you need to "put your smile away" because not seeing your resting face constantly freaks him out, renjun on the other hand, is elated, or maybe he's just glad he can finally be rid of you, you don't know.

but all that put aside, you are happy, and you have a cute oreo–haired man to thank for that.

and maybe this is all you really need, just dejun, the two of you don't even have to do anything, he can just lay his head down onto your shoulder and you'd be having a good time.

you like it when he sits down and paints your nails for you, or when he watches you bake over your shoulder, not knowing what to do but happy to watch you do your thing, or when he coerces you to win prizes from carnival games for him with his absolutely adorable eyes (he doesn't even need to try to coerce you, you'd do it either way).

"i'm pretty sure this is illegal".

"it's not!" you reply, though you mean to reassure dejun, your words seem to worry him more than anything. you take his hand, squeezing it. "dejun, i'm not getting you into any illegal activity".

"i can never tell with you" he retorts suspiciously, keeping your hand in his as you lead him up, he would have tripped if not for you holding your hand and guiding you up.

you clear your throat, patting the spot beside you as dejun immediately sits, so close to you that your legs are touching. "if i ever wanted to do something illegal, i'd know better than to bring you along".

he gasps, and you can't resist the urge to laugh at how offended he sounds. "what is that supposed to mean!?"

"you" your pointer finger touches his nose, and he doesn't even try to move. "are a snitch, you would be horrible to commit a crime with".

dejun slaps your hand away, and you laugh at the way he crosses his arms, a familiar pout gracing his absolutely beautiful features. "you— i.. take that back!"

"it's true! even yangyang would be a better option than you!"

dejun is even more offended by the words, and he slowly scoots away from you, arms still crossed as he pouts. you giggle as he remains scooted away from you, still angry about the words you said.

"uh— jun, i was just joking!"

"you suck".

dejun glares, but his glare is anything but serious, as you can see the way he slowly starts to break under your gaze, resisting the urge to burst into laughter. "i hate you".

"you love me".

he does, and he can't pretend he doesn't, because he almost immediately snickers, looking away from you as to not laugh more.

oh he is just so adorable.

you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, making him yelp. "you're so cute" you mutter into his shoulder, and at this point, dejun doesn't even try to pretend anymore.

"you're so corny" he says, patting your arms that currently circle around his waist. you lean your head down onto his shoulder, making yourself comfortable, and he just lets you, because at this point he can't really push you off him.

"don't fall asleep, i'm not going to carry you back to your place".

"you would be too weak to carry me anyway— ow!"

you yell loudly as dejun nudges you in the stomach with his elbow, and while he looks absolutely proud of himself, you just glare, absolutely done with him.

but you don't say anything, just lets your fingers run through his hair, probably your favorite thing to do with him. he just cups your face, and he just smiles at your face, giggling. "your just as cute as when we first met".

the statement makes you snicker, because you did not expect for him to say that out of all things he could've said. you get why he says it though, because you are at the place where it all began, the bleachers, the same bleachers where you two were standing when you shared your first interaction.

you tilt your head, wanting to tease him more. "so there were moments where i wasn't cute, then?"

dejun scoffs, turning away from you. he lightly pinches your arm, and you yelp once again, inching away from him. "why do you enjoy hurting me?"

he smiles innocently. "i don't, i have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"

your face drops, and all dejun does is laugh, squeezing your cheeks. "don't be mad, babe, you know i love you".

and you do, you do know, he never fails to remind you of how much he does.

"i love you too.."

with your eye rolls, and tiny mutters, dejun knows, he knows that you're telling the truth.

#xiao dejun #xiaojun #nct #wayv #nct u #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv drabbles #nct x reader #nct x male reader #wayv x reader #wayv x male reader #xiaojun imagines #xiaojun x reader #xiaojun x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #338: Taisui Xingjun

if I can say one nice thing about taisui xingjun, it’s that lasengle went out of their way to make him feel very cursed. sometimes waiting for a servant to pop up in their event gives you cool new abilities to work with that aren’t part of their in-game kit, and sometimes they show up at the last second, throw out a vague party buff on for the last fight, and then fall asleep immediately. this time’s the second one.

thankfully, taisui’s not all that difficult a build, at least on the surface. he’s a Divine Soul Sorcerer, and that’s it! though to be fair, that class alone is really kind of mashing together two classes as-is, so he’s still not that simple.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

next up: make sure to like, comment, subscribe, and turn on notifications to see this build first!

Ancestry & Background

if we were being more objective taisui’d probably be a custom lineage, but it’s our build and I want him to be able to turn into his big form at will, so he’s a Changeling. with that, he gets proficiency in performance and persuasion, and his plastic presentation makes him a Shapechanger as well, so he can turn into any small or medium race as long as they have the same number of limbs, and you can’t turn into anyone specific without having seen them first. on top of all that, you get bonuses of +2 Charisma and +1 Dexterity.

finally, your background. you literally just sit there the whole event until like three deus ex machinas pile on top of each other to summon you into a vaguely human body, so that sounds like the Book of Many Things’ new background, the Rewarded, to me. that nets you proficiency in Insight and Animal Handling, as well as the Lucky feat for literally free. why anyone would ever pick a different background ever again, I don’t know, but now you get three luck points a day, and you can spend them forcing a reroll on any d20 roll directly affecting you and pick the better option of the two. whomst’d’ve the fuck thought putting that on a background was balanced.

Ability Scores

your highest score is your Charisma, because you’re basically skating by on your good looks and hoping that’s enough to make people farm the ungodly number of Cons needed for all your ascensions and NP levels. it is, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. second highest is your CON. yep, there’s a buncha them in there. third is Dexterity, because you don’t wear armor. like, at all. honestly this should probably be lower considering how easily you get eaten, but I’m trying to make a build that’ll survive level 1. after that comes your Intelligence, because the Con are quick studies at least when it comes to construction and video games, so they’re at least a little above average. that means your Strength is nothing to write home about- you’re a god, but you’re a kid, and your arms are kind of noodly. finally, we’re dumping Wisdom. as the Con you’re easily swayed, and as a god your tired ass isn’t helping anyone on watch duty.

Class Levels

1. as mentioned before, you’re a Divine Soul Sorcerer, which gives you Spells you cast using your Charisma. before we go into those, you also get Divine Magic, letting you pick spells from the cleric spell list as well as the sorcerer’s. you also get Inflict Wounds for free for your spooky shadow hands. I know taisui is technically true neutral, but his god form’s a god of curses and retribution, so I’m saying at the very least his powers are evil-leaning. speaking of, you’re Favored by the Gods, so if you fail a save or attack, you can add 2d4 to it once a short rest. whether being favored by this god is a good thing or not is anyone’s guess.

so then, spells! for cantrips, Blade Ward will keep your body in once piece for now, Morgan worked hard on that, while Chill Touch is another kind of spooky hand that prevents people from healing, which is pretty cursed in my book. you can also whip out your bell and Toll the Dead, dealing extra damage to injured targets, your you can curse someone with an Infestation, forcing them to move in a random direction if they fail a constitution save.

for leveled spells, Bane is a light cursing for a first level spell, forcing up to three creatures to make a charisma save. if they fail, every attack or save made for up to a minute gets a d4 taken away from it. we’re also giving you Mage Armor for +3 AC because we’re not that sadistic. even if taisui is.

oh, speaking of saves, you have proficiency in Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as Arcana and Religion. you kind of are a god, after all.

2. second level sorcerers become a font of magic! rn that just means u can cast another first level spell every day, like your new one, earth tremor! most of you is still down there, after all, just twitch a lil.

3. congrats! you survived long enough to get second level spells! now you can feed your party parts of yourself to aid them, giving them a bigger hp bar for the day! you also learn metamagic this level, so now your font of magic actually does stuff that’s important! you can spend your sorcery points to make a spell heightened, giving your target disadvantage to their save, or careful, automatically making the save for some of your friends! taisui’s got kind of a yin-yang thing going on between his feeding and his cursing, so this is the best of both worlds!

4. since ur kind of a nega-jupiter, you’re now a scion of the outer planes! yaaaay! since your god’s evil, you get resistance to necrotic damage, and you get chill touch again!

you can also cast mold earth to cover yourself up again, and you can cast wither and bloom! with this spell, every creature you choose takes necrotic damage, and one creature you choose can roll a hit die and gain hp back! it’s literally everything you do in a single spell!

5. fifth level, you have magical guidance, spend sorcery points to reroll checks, whatever! the important thing is now you can bestow curses! the phb gives some suggestions, but really you can do anything your dm lets you get away with!

6. sixth level divine souls have empowered healing, so whenever you or someone next to you heals someone, you can spend a sorcery point to reroll some of those dice, once a turn! i’m not sure if that works for life transference or not, but either way this spell makes feeding yourself to someone a lot more visceral. you take damage, and then someone else gets healed for twice the amount of damage you took!

7. you can now give urself an aura of purity, making friendly creatures in it immune to disease, resistant to poison damage, and they get advantage on saves against a buncha common status effects too!

8. at eighth level you get another ASI, so now you’re a Baleful Scion. that rounds up your Charisma and lets you pull people into the Grasp of Avarice- once a turn, you can add some necrotic damage to the damage you deal, which also heals you for that amount. your best healing spell so far uses your HP, so you need to fill that back up somehow.

you can also summon a Spirit of Death for an hour, making a floaty medium boy you can ride around on! you don’t even need to spend any actions commanding it or nothin’. it can only attack one creature at a time, but it’ll lock on to them and let you know where they are the whole time!

9. you can now make an insect plague! don’t misspell that, trust me. now you can make a 20’ radius sphere of locusts that obscure the whole place, and everything inside it has to make a constitution save or get piercing damage!

10. tenth level sorcerers have another kind of metamagic like extended, doubling the length of a spell you cast, up to an hour. you can also cast resistance to protect someone from a saving throw-related dangers.

speaking of saves, you can cast the most messed-up spell in the game, Contagion! if you hit your target, they have to make a constitution save at the end of each turn, working like death saves. after three successes, the spell ends. after three failures, you can curse them with a terrible disease for seven days.

11. at eleventh level, you can cast sixth level spells like Heroes’ Feast! after casting this, you can feed yourself to up to twelve creatures, curing them of all diseases and poisons, immunity to poison and being frightened, and they had advantage on all wisdom saves! on top of that, they gain extra HP, and all for a full day! just… maybe don’t tell them what the feast’s made of.

12. twelfth level, another ASI! bump up that Con for more Cons! it’s health, you’ll get more health. this is retroactive, remember, so you get an extra 12 HP this level.

13. thirteenth level sorcerers get seventh level spells, and its time to get real curses! with Divine Word you can hit any number of creatures within 30’ of you, forcing a charisma save on all of them. depending on how many HP they have, they’ll become deafened, blinded, stunned, or even straight up dead if they fail a charisma save. this also banishes any celestial, fey, or fiend if they’re not from around here, so that would make Dagon a real cakewalk. also, on the “instantly killing people” front, this gives you more than enough room to take out some poor bastard’s whole extended family.

14. your Angelic Form is a lot different than most people would expect, but you can still use your bonus action to fly around on your curse lump, with no limit on flight time!

15. eighth level spells! you can now Regenerate your allies by forcefeeding them a whole Con, giving them a healthy amount of HP immediately, with a trailing 1 HP per turn for an hour afterwards. two minutes into the spell any missing limbs grow back, though they can also instantly be reattached by just slappin ‘em back on if you got ‘em.

16. another ASI, another Con for more HP.

17. you can now use twinned metamagic, turning a single-target spell into one that hits two creatures!

speaking of single target spells, Power Word Kill’s a hell of one, ain’t it? if the chosen target has 100 HP or less, they die instantly! no saves, no nothin’.

18. you spent so much time putting Cons into other people, we almost forgot to get some Cons into you! with Unearthly Recovery, letting you spend a bonus action to regain half your HP once a day! big heal energy.

19. one last ASI before the build finishes! with the Tough feat, it’s like you ate two Cons at once, giving you an extra 38 HP now, plus another two next level.

20. at level twenty you get the sorcerer’s capstone, Sorcerous Restoration! every short rest, you get four extra sorcery point!

…yeah there’s a reason we usually multiclass.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

you have an amazing Con-stitution for a caster, giving you way more HP than most would expect of you. having a healer that doesn’t die easy is super helpful. this also means you have great con-centration. your more powerful spells don’t need it, but dropping a spell always hurts.

not only are you a great healer, you’re great at making other people heal too! you also have access to some strong defensive buffs like heroes’ feast, aura of purity, and resistance. also, being able to grow back limbs can be pretty useful!

you also dish out devastating debuffs, destroying enemy defenses with divine words, curses, and disease.

Cons:

yep, there’s a lotta them in there.

(but seriously, a lack of direct attacks drags fights out, the sorcerer capstone sucks)

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Taisui Xingjun

[bamsywrites]

Guilt Part Two

Summary: Tyrion worries. You have a baby.

Ships: future Tyrion x Reader, past Tywin x Reader

Tags: depictions of child birth, babies, probably ooc, fluffy, a lil bit of angst. not my best writing.

Notes: it's been forever, I know, I apologize. This is just a short fluffy piece. Let me know if you'd like to see more from this story or if you'd like to read what reader and Tywins relationship was like (spoiler warning: it's complex as fuck and reader did kinda sorta like him a little bit despite what she says). Like I said in the first one, this story has been in my maladaptive daydreams for forever and I love getting the story down. As always I'm open to criticism as long as it's helpful and constructive.

Part 1

Tyrion paced.

He'd been pacing so long he swore there would be indents of his feet on the stone floor of the halls. Hours have passed, day turned to night and still he paced. The torches had long since burnt out, nothing but the moon and stars coming through windows illuminated the stone now. The night was silent besides the muffled sounds coming from the closed door that Tyrion continued to pace in front of. He desperately tried to hear what was going on behind those doors. But all he heard was muffled chaos.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

He strained his ears once again to hear. Muffled pained moans. The sound of cups and bowls being moved. People were talking, frantic, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Damned those walls, damned his painfully average hearing, damned it all.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

He'd tried to gather information where he could, a few handmaidens had left the room in the hours that he'd been there to fetch water or medicine or... whatever, he wasn't sure because they wouldn't answer his questions. Not so much as a nod or a head shake. Damn those women too, he thought.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

You'd been in labor since early that morning, he'd been woken by the news that your baby was coming, and he'd been outside the door since. It shouldn't take this long? Should it? This was an area of women's anatomy that he has little experience with and it infuriated him. The not knowing, the sounds of your screams, the anxiety, the worry, the guilt.

Step. Step. Step - Stop.

"Agh! Fuck!" Tyrion yelled, throwing his flask full of wine at the wall as hard as he could. He watched it clatter to floor, wine splattering the floor and the wall.

He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to tune the world out, tried to focus on getting himself together and not allowing his thoughts to go too far. His fingers bitter themselves in his hair, his forehead pressed against his knees. Worry and guilt consumed all of him. You were the only person he had here, that babe was his brother. You were smart and kind and strong. You were good and all that came from you was good. Trysta, Nataria - they were good. The world couldn't lose you.

He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you.

There was a new sound from behind the closed door. A cry.

A baby cry.

Tyrion wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, but his ass was numb as he stood and waited for word of how you were doing. How the baby was doing. Just a word.

A young handmaid emerged from the room, "She's doing well, m'lord. Tired but she's doing well." But her voice sounded almost pitiful, it worried him for a moment until he heard the sound of your tired voice from inside the room.

"Tell him to come in."

You sounded exhausted but he could hear the smile in your voice.

Thank the gods.

Tyrion had never felt such a wave of relief in his life as when he entered the room and saw you with your babe swaddled to your chest. Your face was pale and you were covered with sweat, your hair sticking to your face and skin slick. Your lips looked chapped but they smiled down at the bundle in your arms. His heart jumped at the sight of your smile. Even now, he thought you looked beautiful.

You were the first to speak, "A baby boy. I haven't thought of a name quite yet," you never took your eyes off the baby in your arms. "He is beautiful though, come look at him. He's perfect."

Tyrion approached and his breath hitched in his throat as he saw the baby asleep in your arms.

"A dwarf?"

His voice was quiet as he looked at the sleeping baby. He was shocked. The baby was his brother after all, it would make sense he supposed but he was more shocked at how you were looking at the baby. You had no disgust. No contempt. You had love radiating from your features as you looked at your son.

"I...I am sorry," he apologized- for what he did not know. He felt that's what he's supposed to do.

Your eyes shot up to him and your gaze turned stern.

"No, your self pity is not going to taint my son'" your voice was harsh and firm "There is nothing to be sorry for. He's perfect the way he is, just as are you, and I will not have you think there is something wrong with my son simply because you falsely believe there is something wrong with you," you turned your gaze to the bundle in your arms. "I would burn all of the Seven Kingdoms to the ground for him, just as I would my daughters. Oh, how I wish they could be here to meet him. "

Tyrion stood in awe for a moment. In that moment you were awe inspiring, with your body exhausted and covered in sweat, your eyes telling the story of how your body was spent of all energy but still bright and smiling at at your son. You were gentle, loving with your baby on your chest but the fire in your eyes never died. You managed to put him in his place while making him feel more worthy than he ever had.

"Come," your voice broke him out of his trance, "Hold him." You held the sleeping baby for him to hold.

"I have no where to sit, my lady." He feared that if he touched the babe, if he held him, that Tyrion would taint him or ruin him in some way.

"Nonsense," you moved motioning to the spot on your bed right next you. He must have shown his hesitance on his face because before he could object your voice cut him off.

"I just spent an entire day painfully and excruciatingly pushing this child out of my womb. I do not give a fuck about what is proper or improper."

"Yes, my lady." He couldn't stop the smile that stretched upon his face. He'd never heard you say such things but he suspected you were right.

The blankets rustled as Tyrion sat next to you and made himself comfortable. "Of all the reasons I've found myself in a beautiful woman's bed, I cannot say this has been one of them."

You smiled softly as you sat the sleeping babe in his arms.

"They're always so peaceful right after birth," you say softly. "Its the next day that's the hardest. Tonight he will sleep and I will rest and tomorrow he must come to terms that this world is colder than the one he was used to."

Tyrion looked down at the babe, his brother, and smiled softly. He had already tufts of Lannister hair on his head and he looked so peaceful. His fingers traced the babes face gently. "My father is rather good at making adorable babies I must say."

"I would like to think that it is me making the adorable babes and not Tywin."

"You? I was more so talking about me than the babe."

You laughed out loud, it was exhausted but it still made Tyrions heart skip a beat.

"Speaking of him, you must give this babe a name. You can't just refer to him as the babe or him for ever."

You sighed, your head falling to rest on his shoulder. "I do not think I have it in me to name him today."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes as the three of you sat there. Tyrion fully enjoying the weight of your head on his shoulder and sleeping babe in his lap. It wasn't until he noticed your breathing change that he realized you had fallen asleep. To know you felt safe enough, felt relaxed enough to sleep on him made his heart race.

"I will not let the harshness of this world take you from me." Tyrions voice was quiet and soft, he didn't know if he was speaking to you or your child or to both but he meant everyword.

#tyrion lannister x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones imagine #tywin x reader #mobile post #mine

[baby-jaguar]

John Price; Drop Everything Now.

Part 2

CW: PTSD, Songfic inspired by "Sparks Fly" (Not in a cringe way I promise)

GN!Reader who is a sergeant on TF141. WC: 2,262

AN: I needed to post this before I completely tore it apart (again) and decided to scrap it. LMK if you'd like a part two because I have a good chunk of it but unsure if I'd like to continue this since I want the PTSD to linger and not be just diminished because reader is love of his life (I'd like to at least try to have some realism, rip). This was actually created for a test run of writing PTSD so I am happy to take any constructive criticism or tips for writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Being stationed in the Middle East meant that you weren't used to much besides the hot sun baring down on every activity you did and dust storms that would blow over, which effectively made you shut your mouth to not breathe in the dirt. However, that didn’t mean that Mother Nature would not bless the dry lands with an ounce of rain every once in a while. 

You wouldn’t know about the rain usually unless you were outside training or on a mission when the dark clouds would roll in, giving you a rare break from the sun. Other times, the clouds would cover the stars and moon in the night sky, but you wouldn't be able to tell just what kind of clouds they were. 

And that, unfortunately, is how tonight is going without your knowledge.

The rain was never an issue on base, its greatest hindrance being the lack of vision, the annoyance of getting wet, and the general time it would take to wait it out. However, there was always the unspoken thought of the thunderstorms that could arise. 

You’ve served two years within TF141 as a sergeant, having been recruited and transferred to be on base under Price’s command. Now having some experience under your belt, you’ve seen a thing or two- but nothing compared to your superiors.

From an external point of view and reflection on yourself, it brings a possibility that your mind has yet to realize if the memories are getting trapped within yourself. Your nervous system may have gotten stuck in the past at a few points in time, but while you remain living in the action, your biggest symptom is nightmares and anxiety that you brush off each time.

The same can’t be said for your Captain.

Price, with his two decades of service, has lived through more than you could ever imagine and things he wishes to not recall. He plays the classic tough guy act, brushing his emotions off as something he can deal with when he’s home and not deployed- nor does he want to even believe they are necessary to process, his ways still being a bit old-fashioned.

When you were recruited, his viewpoint shifted a bit. Price wasn’t sure that you would be a good fit within the team, and debated putting you on a platoon further down the branch that he still oversaw from time to time. Yet, during your grace period, he would check up on you- being sure to debrief with you after long days of training exercises or drills that were getting harder and harder. When you had proven your worth to him and the team, an unspoken agreement between you two was formed. You would casually reside in his presence but keep it under the notion of him offering guidance to the rookie. This often resulted in you filling out reports or paperwork on your laptop in his office while he worked at his desk.

Price was not a sharer of his inner turmoil. But, sometimes, you would confide in him and he would allow a sliver of a softer man to peak out in the late hours of the night.

That's how the deeper part of your relationship worked with him. Hard-ass by day, and a mildly reserved man by late night. You’re close with the entirety of the team, but you’ve always had an attraction to Price, classically never trying to show it or verbalize it to anyone. Yet, you had a good hunch that he already knew from your softened behavior towards him when the veil of superior and subordinate came down to friends in the dark glow of his office.

You knew it was a bad idea to ever indulge yourself in having his attention and reciprocating it, but now you over-indulged for the last year and find yourself with a cavity at the sweetness you suck from his words. Your mind is always left in a trance on any touch he unknowingly spoiled you with; a hand to the small of your back, adjusting your elbows if you were using a heavier loadout during training, or a pat on the head after a job well done.

Tonight, the storm rolls in with thunder chasing right behind it. 

It's late in the evening as you stand in the common room, having had dinner late, and washing the dishes while quietly humming to yourself. The subconscious part of your mind notices the flashes of lightning and deep thunder that penetrate the barriers of the base but leaving it as a non-threat. You wash your dinner plate, moving the sponge around, but before you can put the plate down to dry, your phone rings with a call from Price. 

It's not unusual for him to call when he decides he’d like your presence while completing paperwork, yet your eyebrows furrow as you see the time to be later in the night than his usual request.

Before you can even speak into the phone after answering, your ear is polluted with the sound of his ragged breaths; the sound of rain hitting the ground is amplified more than what you hear while being inside. It sends a roll of skin-prickling anxiety down your spine as your eyes widen. “Price?” You ask after a blink, trying to understand what this call could be.

You hear it when he speaks, a tremor in the back of his throat and you can imagine the adrenaline-crazed look on his face. The sound of your name is called from him, and it almost sounds questioning, as if he isn't sure it's you, even though he called.

“I- I don’t know where I am…” He pants out, sounding choked up, trying to swallow air and the lack of saliva in his throat while in the pouring rain.

Drop everything now

Without a second thought, you drop the plate, the clatter of it breaking once hitting the ground echoes in the common room and snaps everyone's attention on you. Not having any need for apologies or reason, your body is already supplying the adrenaline needed to set into a dead sprint out of the common room as you weave past the other bodies to push through the hallway and enter the stairwell with the clamor of the metal doors swinging open.

“John, where are you- tell me what you see.” You call out as your body gets set on autopilot, practically flying down the stairs of the barracks and onto the ground floor moving into the hallways. “Do you see the training yard or do you see a road?” You pant out while pushing to find the exit door of the base.

It's here and now, that you now actively recognize the roll and clap of thunder as if it's taunting you to hurry up and find Price before it does.

But it seems it already has.

Each door, person, and corner you pass feels like a deliberate obstacle, frustrating you as you try to get outside faster.

“I- I see a road and the-” He’s interrupted by a bright flash, a strong shake of thunder following right after, and you hear him grunt in aggravation at the sound he lacks control over. With a call of your name, he makes a quiet plea. “Please, I need you here. Now.” He manages to ground out with a sharp breath, causing you to almost second guess yourself at what he said. 

You bank a hard left, towards the East entrance, finding the door to take you outside towards the main road that leads to the base's entrance. Shouldering the large door, you grit your teeth while taking the metal harshly against yourself, but almost come to a halt when you feel the pouring rain pelt on your body.

Meet me in the pouring rain

“Please.” His voice shakes again through the phone, and the rasp from his panting re-escalates the adrenaline through your body.

It breaks your heart to hear him sound like this as if he’s succumbing to his demons. “John, I’m gonna find you but you need to help me, ok?” You ask as your legs begin to burn from the force that you run through the damp earth with. “-you see the flag pole? ” You bark out while another flash of lightning crosses the sky, closing your eyes as you wince. “Hey- listen to me, focus on me.” You command, praying that he isn’t locked inside his memories.

After a moment, “Y- Yes, I see it. The- the rains comin’ down hard- won't fucking stop.”

The shake in his voice is back; he’s shivering and his irritability is beginning to build up faster as it makes itself evident the longer he stays held within the turmoil of his nervous system.

Running and finally entering the main yard after having had to cut through the detached buildings to make it to the front, you place your free hand over your eyes to try and gain some semblance of visibility while the flashes of lightning aid for a moment.

“Meet me there. It’ll be just you and me, only us.” You pleaded with a hint of firmness, needing to direct him as you move with haste towards the lit flagpole, the light being a beacon through the pelting rain.

While running in the dark and wet ground, you lose footing and slide your foot into loose gravel; your right elbow is now scraped while you clatter to the ground with a “Fuck-” Your voice breaks through the night air, as your yelp of pain staccatos out in the silence between the flash of light and complimenting rumble of thunder. 

In a moment before you can stand up, you hear your name being yelled out, whipping your head up in response. The raw tenacity of his voice through the thrumming of rainfall hits when there is no other force of the storm that can distract either of you.

Your gazes find each other; he looks frozen for a moment, then immediately runs to you.

“John-“ falls past your lips in a cry when you spot him. His fatigues stick to his body, his hair wet and bucket hat long gone. Making his way hurriedly, his body slows with unexpected grace as he helps you to your feet. Almost as if in a hurried frenzy, you latch onto him by his arms, blinking through the falling rain as you look up and search his face. 

The expression he wears, as he makes sure you’re alright, contradicts the voice he had just seconds earlier; his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he checks over you, quickly placing his large hands on your ribs to stand you upright as if you are a toddler who has just taken a tumble.

“Bloody- You alrigh’ sweetheart?” He asks as the warmth of his panting breath fans across your face while pulling you up against him.

“I’m ok, I just slipped from the rain. Thank you.” You speak while still holding him tight, latching onto him. Your heart aches at seeing him care for you no matter where his mind places him, always putting others before himself.

John nods, letting out a small sigh. The feeling of your warmth against his chest brings him back down as he looks over you, trying to blink the anxiety and rain from his eyes. The feeling of his hands, cold and now gentle, glides up to move the wet hair from your eyes. It surprises you for a moment as he stays completely silent besides the tremoring breaths he takes.

At the silence, you let a small huff of laughter escape before closing your eyes and giving a smile in relief at having him in your sight and arms, before fluttering your eyes open to gaze up at him. 

You return the gesture when you move your hand to wipe his hair off of his forehead, the rain having matted it down to his skin. “With me as I’m with you. Always with you, John.” The lull of your voice surprises both of you as it can be heard perfectly in the rain, with no sign of thunder or lightning interrupting your words. 

John cups the base of your skull, looking at the raindrops that fall in small splashes and trails along your face. His eyes dilate when focused on you, the sight of him this close and his icy blue eyes keep steadfast on you, leaving a haunting mark on your memory and heart.

He moves his head down to meet yours; pausing for a moment as if he isn't sure this is real- he isn’t sure that this isn’t a dream and his mind is granting him a wish. Is this a true trick of his mind? This can't be a memory, surely-

He looks as if he’s in pain, so you take the last leap of faith for him.

The new and added warmth of his lips on yours is tender. It contrasts the rough environment of where you stand, the life you both live and the constant battles faced within. Your arms and his alike move to wrap around each other in a harsh and tight embrace.

As the raindrops fall all over both your faces, you feel as if you’re in a movie and the climax has just hit when the lovers are united.

You both are soaking wet, but neither of you seems to mind. He pulls you back into him, deepening the kiss with a determined and desperate force.

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain.

#task force 141 #call of duty #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #captain jonathan price #jonathan price #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #captain price x reader #captain price mw2 #cod price #price x reader #captain price #141

[inverswayart]

On Orlais fashion

So, while i was trying to design an outfit for Julie, I stumbled upon a problem - what the hell was considered fashionable in Orlais during Awakening? I scanned through wiki and concept art and then got an idea for a big cool post about it, but my da high is closing in to an end so I'll just ramble for a bit instead.

It's evolving (and too fast)

So yeah, if we look at the concept art and what have appeared in Inquisition, Orlais fashion seems to change at break-neck speed - on par with modern fast fashion. Why is it a problem? Because modern fashion operates in a world of mass-production, which whole kinda alluded to in Thedas, is allegedly haven't been achieved yet. But still, in DAI we see at least 3 pretty distinct silhouettes of women's clothes that feel like different stages of one evolutionary line. I'm talking those beauties:

So, as we can see, one more-or-less consistent thing about all of them is waistline - fairly high one, like something out of 16th century Italy or first two decades of 19th century. But everything else is varied - the neckline from completely closed to pretty plunging, sleeve length and form, construction of skirt...

But looking at them in this order they do resemble a solid development line - tho for me it feels like there should be at least one more phase between first and second stages - no way such high and tight wheel ruffles would collapse without a trace of their existence... Otherwise, there's a couple of noticeable trends here - first, slight widening of skirts; second, slow rising of sleeves; descending neckline.

At third image it feels like someone suddenly invented the crinoline straight out of 1850's, completely foregoing farthingale and panniers (here's all of them for comparison, in the same order):

To be clear, neither panniers or farthingale are prerequisite for crinoline to appear - but considering the alleged time period Dragon Age was inspired by and the fairly 1770's like hairdo's Leliana alludes to in DAO (the "I like your hair" dialogue where she mentions a noblewoman incorporating entire birdcage with living birds into her hair) one would expect them rather then mid-19th century invention.

Still, to line up those dresses is to insert at the very least 5 or so years between them, maybe even 10 or 15 (once again, those high ruffled collars would have not dissapered so smoothly... Imagine orlesians with those huge-ass Elizabethan lacey standing collars, wouldn't that be sick?) But to be honest, at least i can see how Origins noble dress could've evolved into the first one.

All the prerequisites are there - standing collar ready to get taller and rufflier, kinda puffed up sleeves, little cape-like decoration at shoulders, waist accentuated by fairly wide belt ready to turn even wider and more decorative, fairly narrow skirt to expand... And it would've ecen work with the timeline we have - there's roughly 11 years between DAO and DAI, and the silhouette would've had time to change - but then the Inquisition dress would be the latest fashion, not the fairly outdated one we see.

There are also two distinct outliers - Florianne de Chalons and empress Celine with their dresses more or less out of common trends we saw before:

And while Celene's dress I can still place in the general climate we got - like yeah, she's the Empress, she can be the most fashion-forward one and outclass everyone around, and her dress does look like evolution of what we saw, it would be at least 5 more tears before crinoline would start to change it's shape (ironically getting closer to panniers) and while I can read her overdress as on of the exposed underdresses in a "I'm above your backroom dealings and behind the stage machinations and so I have nothing to hide" kinda gesture, it feels like a stretch.

Florianne, on the other hand, while being more in tune with others silhouette-wise... Why does she has those pagoda sleeves? Why the train when even the Empress does not have one? Mystery for ages.

A bit unrelated but one cool canon thing about Orlesian fashion is that codex in DAI that says that it's all about hiding the actuall contour of body behind augmented forms - shoulder pads, structured garments and so on. That actually is pretty close to Elizabethan conception of man as something completely separate from nature that found it's reflection in geometrical fashions of the era.

So yeah, in the end, while very pretty, Orlesian fashion is kind of a mess (as is every other fashion in Thedas we have seen. Can't wait for Dreadwolf to throw even more aestetics wrenches in here).

#tag for words #dragon age #dragon age origins #dao #dragon age inquisition #dai #orlais #fashion #fashion history #dragon age meta #i probably put way more thought into it that devs intended #but what are they gonna do about it?

[fernacular]

Could you tell us more about your version of batman? Maybe the batfam too? Boop!

I can try! To be honest I don't have a ton to say, im not the most knowledgeable when it comes to the Lore(tm) and I'm mostly making stuff up with each drawing I do, whatever makes the initial concept or joke work.

So what I have is this:

He's not physically powerful but he has a lot of speed, flexibility and endurance and mostly focuses on avoiding fights and being a good detective, and when a fight is unavoidable he leans a lot on technology and being a pragmatic fighter so he can take people down quick with minimal risk. I don't know much about martial arts but his fighting style is probably similar to Akido?

The Joker is less of a huge villain, I have nothing against the character I just feel like he gets leaned on too much in batman stories, like an overexposure thing. He was a gangster with a gimmick who become a problem every once in a while but he was never Batman's arch nemesis. (That would be two-face, they got the most personal history). After the Jason Todd of it all Bruce stuck him down a stinky hole and no one liked him enough to help him get out.

There's not actually a huge age gap between Bruce and Dick, only about ten years, and the father/son relationship is getting slightly more awkward as time goes on. Like it's one thing for a 22 year old telling a twelve year old what to do, pretty different when it's a 35 year old trying to lecture a 25 year old. Dick respects Bruce immensely but he's getting frustrated with Bruce not seeing them as peers yet, and it's part of why Dick has physically distanced himself. (Some familial relationships improve so much when you live in different cities)

He's in an on-and-off again relationship with Selina, who has her own apartment but splits her time between it and the Wayne manor when they're on, and sometimes even off (Alfred usually let's her in regardless, when she feels like using the front door). They're just two very independent people who do love each other but every so often need their space and don't know how to communicate that constructively.

What else what else... Babs is Oracle but her spine was injured in a different way, probably while kicking ass and saving lives.

Bruce is better friends with Diana than he is Clark because Clark has a little bit of a country chip on his shoulder when it comes to wealthy property owners and Bruce isn't jazzed about the press. Its getting better with time though!

Bruce is very good at masking (I mean, clearly, he has to fool everyone with Brucie after all) but his relaxed affect is very blunt and not outwardly emotional. This does not mean he's always brooding or overly serious, he just has resting bitch face and his sense of humor is very dry. His family can read him pretty well but most other people just assume he's perpetually pissed.

Uuuuh thats all I can think of off the top of my head, hope you like it!

Also boop

#Ramblings #Batman #Bruce Wayne

[damianabsinthe]

Psychic Sobriety- Chapter Five

Newest Chapter! 18+

This one is fairly short, but the next will be 2,814 words. We're getting so close to the smut. Let me know if you have constructive criticism or ideas for future fics, I finished this one and I have a few more in my head. I'll be posting this to Ao3 in a few days once I post it on here, and finally finish editing it.

chapter tags: sexual content, undressing

words: 1,003

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He was kissing me sweetly. After practically begging for his dick, he was finally walking across the table with a dark, hungry look in his eyes. He took my arm and led me to my feet, only for my balance to be thrown off by his body pressing into mine. My knees buckled. For a moment, he was the only thing keeping me upright. I re-balance myself, only to be knocked off course by the furiousness of his kiss. It had changed from the sweet, longing kiss into something much more primal. He was kissing me like he was going to devour me. If there was any doubt in my mind that he wanted me, it was put to rest now. 

“Are you ready for what I want to do to you?” He asks. I nod, because of course I am. I would let him do anything to me. Spit in my mouth, fuck me senseless, anything. He chuckles, a low and deep sound that reverberates in my body, sending a slight wave of nervousness down me. But any bit of trepidation I held was vanquished by the throbbing ache in my clit. Of course I’m ready. 

He picks me up as if I weigh nothing to him, and I probably did. He held me bridal style, like the night he saved me from the car. But unlike the last time, one hand was on my ass and the other held onto my chest. He was feeling me, I realized. He doesn’t want to take his hands off me now. He carried down the hall and back into his bedroom, where I had woken up an hour earlier. He stood before the bed, unmoving. He bent down and kissed me once more, hard, while I was still in arms. I leaned into the kiss. It was over too quickly- and he was tossing me onto the bed, his own body following after. My tumble to the bed knocked the wind out of me, and before I could catch my breath he was on top of me again, still kissing me. 

“Wanna feel you,” Leon murmured into my ear. “I bet you’re so tight and wet- gonna feel so good on my cock.” His hand came to rest on my stomach. “Look at you,” he purred, “So pretty.” He tweaked my nipple. My breath hitched. “You like that?” I nodded. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” And he gave me a smile I could only describe as feral. All teeth. Before I could respond, he leaned head down and kissed me. A real kiss this time, proper. But it wasn't what I was expecting- not from his promises of what he would do to me- this was gentle. He kissed me slowly, sweetly, as if he had been waiting to do this. As if he knew I was craving love. But I also didn’t know how to receive it.

            We came up for air, a string of saliva connecting our mouths. He immediately went again to my neck, kissing it passionately. I moaned. Every lick of his tongue went straight to my clit. He kissed his way down my sternum, leaving me shivering in anticipation. He came to my nipple and sucked, my moan reverberating off the wall. I stifled it halfway through, in embarrassment over how much he affected me.

“No, baby,” He cooed, “Wanna hear you, let me know how much you appreciate this.” He went to my other nipple and nibbled on it softly with his teeth. As one of his teeth lightly scraped my nipple, I whimpered. He pulled off and blew cold air over it.

“Please,” I asked, voice slurring.

“Now how could I deny you, when you asked so nicely?” He grinned, kissing my neck. “Though, I think you could lose the clothes.” He tugged on the T-shirt- his shirt- that I was wearing. He pulled the hem and began to lift it up. I held up my arms, and he slipped it off me quickly, hardly able to contain himself from the excitement. I found it so cute, his thinly veiled enthusiasm. I wondered if that enthusiasm would become more apparent later, if he would become more wrecked as the night went on. 

            He looped his fingers around the top of my sweatpants and rubbed circles with his thumbs on the sides of my hips.

“Hips up, sweetheart.” He said. It wasn’t uncommon for him to let slip a sweetheart or dear in our softer moments, like when we’re cuddling on the couch together after I’ve had too many and lay my head on his shoulder. But now, the context has changed, and it’s leaving me dizzy.

            I obey his orders, and he takes off my pants in one swift move. I’m almost completely naked now, save for the thin scrap of fabric between my legs. He took a moment to scan his eyes up and down my body. I looked away, embarrassed at his intense gaze. 

 He went lower, making eye contact with my underwear. 

“My lovely,” He said, “Is this all for me?” He spoke with a teasing tone, full of thinly veiled excitement. 

“I don’t see anyone else here,” I quipped. 

“Hm, you can still talk, I’m clearly not doing a very good job here, am I?” he murmured. He kissed the damp patch on my underwear. I shivered. He began to tongue my folds beneath the thin cotton. 

“Oh my god, Leon…” I moan. He chuckles, removing my underwear and slinging them to the corner of the room as if they offend him. 

“I am the god here, aren’t I? Say my name again.” He takes a finger and presses it into my dripping cunt. I brokenly moan his name. “That’s it, sweetheart, being so good for me…” He lowers his mouth and places it on my clit, pressing his tongue to the bundle of nerves. He makes out with my cunt as if he loved it. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Preview for next chapter:

Meanwhile, Leon was enjoying his time with your pussy. It tasted amazing- like your natural scent, mixed with soap and sweat. He licked the salt off your skin like a dying man marooned in the ocean. He desperately wanted you to ride his face- another time, maybe. Today was about proving to you that he was good enough to be a worthwhile partner. That you could go to bed sated each night from his touch alone. That you could love him.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x gn! reader #leon kennedy x reader #re4 #resident evil vendetta #resident evil x reader #vendetta #vendetta leon #death island #psychic sobriety #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader

[theharrowing]

Entanglement

Namjoon is eager to finally lose his virginity and decides it would be wise if his best friend Yoongi helps him. He is totally not in love with Yoongi, or anything...

🌱 Namjoon x Yoongi 

🌱 word count: 10.9k

🌱 friends to lovers, virginity loss, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

🌱 warnings: Namjoon is a virgin! top Yoongi, this is more or less porn without plot! but it's also very fluffy! switch Namjoon & switch Yoongi, anxiety (overthinking, some self doubt, spiraling), flirting, mutual pining, love confessions, making out, frotting, spit used as lube (actual lube is used too), rough blow job, first time giving blow job, cum eating, ass to mouth, anal fingering, anal sex, teasing, begging, degrading language (cockslut), praise, crying, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tooth-rotting fluff.

🌱 written for the Namgi World Tour Fest!

🌱 shout out to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading and to @blog-name-idk​ for helping me come up with the name! thank you babes!

🌱 posted aug. 2022 | read on ao3

It's not a big deal. Namjoon knows it's not a big deal. Virginity is a social construct—it means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It is just something he has never felt comfortable exploring with someone, and that is perfectly okay because it's not a big deal. 

And it is not as if he hasn't explored his own body or watched porn before; he knows what feels good to an extent. He just doesn't know how to feel good at the hands of someone else and how to put his trust in another person. And that makes him spiral.

So, once again, here Namjoon is: at a shitty bar near his best friend Yoongi's place, two pitchers deep mumbling about how he should just lose his virginity already to a close friend, so he can stop dwelling on it. He feels pathetic. He feels like a sad sack standing against the high-top bar table while Yoongi sits perched on a stool, calmly listening to Namjoon blabber on about his insecurities with his pretty chin propped onto his pretty hands. 

"God, I feel...stupid," Namjoon admits with a sigh. He knows he sounds like a broken record at this point, but sometimes he just feels so burdened by the stigmas and assumptions that come along with being a virgin at his age, and everything culminates to moments like this, right here. 

"You once said you think you should just have sex with someone you trust to get it over with," Yoongi mutters after a long silence. "Is that still how you feel?"

Namjoon sighs once more, runs his hands through his dark, overgrown hair and squeezes his eyes closed. When he opens them again, Yoongi stares back, calm and patient. Always calm and always patient.

"Yeah, I mean...I don't really want to go through the motions of meeting someone new, going on dates, and all that. I have work to focus on, and it just seems like a lot of stress, you know?"

Yoongi nods. "Dating is a lot of stress."

"But, maybe it would be nice if I did it with someone like...like..." Like you, Namjoon almost says.

Someone kind and calm. Someone who already knows Namjoon, already understands his insecurities and even some of his desires. His gaze falls to the sticky bar table, and he struggles to figure out how to end that sentence.

"Someone like me?" Yoongi offers softly.

Namjoon's eyes widen, and he looks to his best friend, wondering if he is. joking. There is no hint of sarcasm or teasing in Yoongi's tone, but that doesn't stop Namjoon's stomach from going haywire.

"Wh—I-I mean, I guess maybe, if—"

Yoongi shrugs and mutters, "It's not a big deal, man. I would be happy to help you."

"That's—are you sure?" Namjoon asks, suddenly so flustered over the idea of fucking his best friend that he is unsure whether it really isn't a big deal, after all.

"I mean, we've been friends for like a decade, so it's not like you have anything to hide from me or be afraid of. I could make sure you're comfortable."

Namjoon gently sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, nodding his head as if in thought. In thought is too generous of a way to describe what goes on in his head, however, as any semblance of words swim and tumble, causing Namjoon to absolutely fucking panic. 

Pretty Yoongi with his pink-bitten lips and long, dark brown hair that falls around his ears in delicate wisps. Pretty Yoongi, who has no trouble finding someone equally pretty to take home with him on any given night, 

By some miracle, Namjoon opens his mouth and actually sounds fairly calm when he says, "That's true. I trust you." 

Yoongi seems to study Namjoon's face for a long moment, then, with a smirk, he rasps, "I'll take such good care of my Joonie bear."

This makes Namjoon sigh heavily and shake his head. This is not happening. This cannot possibly be happening. "Forget it. Forget it! Let's just call the whole thing off." 

Namjoon backs away from the table resolved to leave the bar and never look Yoongi in the eye again, but Yoongi scrambles off his stool and grabs Namjoon's sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. 

"Wait, wait. Not so fast, Joon." 

There is an earnestness in Yoongi's voice that makes Namjoon turn on his heel and look at his friend with an impatient sigh. Yoongi smiles softly, sweetly, causing something in Namjoon's tummy to swoop.

"I'm sorry, Namjoon," Yoongi mutters. "I don't mean to be so nonchalant. It's a big deal if you need it to be, and I am not going to make fun of you, okay? Let's go at your pace."

Namjoon shrugs, suddenly feeling silly for getting so worked up. "You're right. It doesn't need to be a big deal." He repeats the words to himself, almost as if willing them to be true.

Yoongi grins and tugs harder on Namjoon's sleeve, looking at him with wide, playful eyes. "Perfect! Then let's go fuck!"

"Wh—we can't just go fuck, are you insane?" Namjoon argues, possibly a little too loud, but he can't be bothered to care about anyone overhearing him when all he can focus on is pretty Yoongi and his devious words.

Yoongi sighs and nods his head. "You're right. There's too much to plan; we shouldn't just try to jump in. Plus, we've both been drinking, and I'm not sure how that makes you feel."

Everything swirls around, and Namjoon nods as if considering what Yoongi has just said, despite struggling to get up to speed. Then, all at once, it hits him.

"Plan? What is there to plan?"

With a smirk, Yoongi says, "Buy us one more pitcher, and we'll sort out all of the details."

Turns out, sorting out all of the details means having a pretty serious chat that makes Namjoon feel quite nervous and shy to have while at the bar. Yoongi is helpful, understanding and thorough, but all of it more or less overwhelms Namjoon to the point of him feeling dazed as he walks back to his apartment. 

Namjoon isn't sure if he wants to top or bottom, so they decided they will both get bottom ready just in case. Based on what Yoongi described, what that means is only eating foods that won't make him gassy, and getting some butt-safe products to clean himself out. Yoongi is regularly tested but will bring condoms just in case, and Namjoon is going to do some homework about anal prep and sex. 

Laying in bed with a head full of Yoongi and a body full of beer, Namjoon feels anxious. When his phone buzzes beside him, he startles and swears under his breath before groaning about how ridiculous he feels for being so jumpy.

Yoongi: Maybe you should try jerking off while thinking about me...

Namjoon stares at his phone, blinking heavily. Sometimes he can't believe how brazen Yoongi is, and it catches him completely off guard. He types, "Bold of you to assume I don't jerk off while thinking about you already," but then deletes it and stares a little longer before deciding he has nothing to say in response to that. 

Namjoon: Wow.

Although Namjoon can picture Yoongi's crooked smirk and the mirth that must be swirling in his eyes, he wishes he could see it firsthand.

Yoongi: I'm just saying…it might make the process easier if you train yourself to get a boner while thinking about me.

Namjoon: I don't think it'll be a problem, hyung.

Namjoon nibbles on his lip as he hits send, then drops his hand down to the bed, squeezing his eyes closed. There have been times in the past when it has seemed like Yoongi was flirting with him, but it's hard to tell with him sometimes, especially over text. 

Regardless of possible intent, Namjoon is always afraid of fucking it up. His crush on Yoongi is, and always has been, insurmountable, and it is important to Namjoon that he keeps their friendship intact. 

When his phone buzzes, Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut tighter and sighs. Then he opens them and lifts his phone. 

Yoongi: Go on…

Namjoon: Good night, hyung! Talk to you tomorrow!

Yoongi: Wow, you're just gonna blue ball me after I've offered to take your virginity??? Some friend you are!

Namjoon closes his eyes and lets his head thwack against the wall. There is enough beer in his system allow him to convince himself that Yoongi is probably not flirting and is just drunk. He is also intoxicated enough to concede that, yes, it would be a good idea to jerk off while thinking about his friend. Not that he has never done it before. 

 For several days, the conversation doesn't come back up. Namjoon gets on with his life, keeping his nose in his work, and Yoongi does the same. Everything is calm. Normal. Ideal.

But then their schedules line up, and they decide that they will do the deed the following evening. Namjoon goes to bed feeling so nervous and excited, he worries he might throw up. 

Yoongi: I feel like a kid on Christmas morning. Can't believe I get to fuck my best friend!

Namjoon's impulse is to respond, "It's too early for this shit," but it is just after 1 PM, and he is on his way home from the gym. He stopped along the way to pick up necessary items to prepare himself for later and is doing his best not to freak the fuck out. 

Namjoon: What time should we kick this thing off?

Yoongi: Kick this thing off? Really? You make it sound like we're tailgating a football game.

Namjoon: You're right, that wasn't very sexy of me.

Yoongi: Not even a little bit...

Namjoon: What time would you like to come stick appendages into one another's orifices?

Yoongi: Absolutely astounding to me that you haven't found another human being to jump your bones yet, Joonie!

Namjoon: Right???

Yoongi: 8?

Namjoon: Sure, see you at 8!

It is 7:53 PM when Yoongi knocks on Namjoon's apartment door. Namjoon is already stressed out, albeit feeling as prepared as one can under these circumstances, and he answers the door with a tremble in his hand. The warm smile that greets him melts away at least some of his trepidation, and he lets out a deep exhale as he steps aside and gestures for Yoongi to come in. 

"Not too often I see my Joonie so nervous," Yoongi drawls, sending goosebumps spreading over Namjoon's skin. There is a certain tone to Yoongi's voice that Namjoon rarely hears, and he thinks he would like to hear it a lot more. 

Namjoon must be staring, causing Yoongi to cock his head as if to beg a question. The feeling coursing through Namjoon is more than pure apprehension. He knows that he is attracted to Yoongi—and has been for years—but perhaps because of the anticipation of being more intimate with him, he has finding himself responding a lot more to subtle things. 

Subtle things like the way Yoongi's hair is pulled back behind his ears, exposing his forehead and the swell of his cheeks. Subtle things like the rich, dulcet tones of Yoongi's already deep voice—rough yet saccharine and something Namjoon wishes he could drown in. 

Namjoon blinks, swallows thickly, and shakes his head. He feels silly. But Yoongi stands patient and calm and doesn't regard him as if he should feel silly, despite his gentle teasing. With a shaky exhale, Namjoon feels his shoulders relax. It's not a big deal, he reminds himself. Yoongi will take good care of him; he knows that. 

"I brought soju in case you'd like to loosen up a little," Yoongi says, breaking a very thick albeit comfortable silence.

Namjoon nods and cracks a smile. "I think a little soju would be nice."

They manage to leave the entrance of Namjoon's apartment. Yoongi takes off his shoes and walks over to the couch, and Namjoon goes to his kitchen for two small cups before returning. 

Namjoon's apartment is quaint and cozy, with more books on surfaces than empty surface space. His plain but tasteful brown couch is large enough for two and a half people, and his table is a simple, cheap black wooden thing that came ready to easily assemble, with zero bells and not a single whistle. 

As Namjoon returns to the couch, he is acutely aware of just how shaky each breath is—both as it goes in and especially as it comes out. Yoongi unpacks a bottle of yogurt-flavored soju from the plastic bag that he has set on the floor beside the couch, and he shakes it up, tilting his body toward Namjoon on the cushions. 

Yoongi wears an oversized white tee and black basketball shorts, and Namjoon finds himself surprisingly more intrigued by his knobby knees than usual. When did Yoongi hyung get so cute?

Always, Namjoon reminds himself. He has always been this cute.

"I don't know why I'm so nervous," Namjoon admits, partially to himself as he adjusts on the sofa, pulling one leg onto the cushion to sit at an angle. Namjoon wears a black tee over grey joggers, and as the grey fabric brushes against Yoongi's knee, he seems to subconsciously inch closer. 

"I know why," Yoongi says, reaching for the glasses to fill them with soju. There is a musk that comes from Yoongi which is a little stronger than usual, and finds its way into Namjoon's senses, and he takes a deep inhale, suddenly feeling intoxicated before having a drop of alcohol. 

"Whether or not we admit that this is a big deal, in a sense, it is," Yoongi continues. With both glasses full, he hands one to Namjoon, but as Namjoon reaches for it, Yoongi doesn't let go. Instead, Yoongi makes stern, caring eye contact. "And if you psych yourself out so much you need to stop, we'll stop. Okay?"

"Oh—okay," Namjoon responds softly. 

With this, Yoongi smiles, allows Namjoon to have his cup and raises his for a toast. "To taking good care of my Joonie," he announces sweetly.

"You have to stop saying that," Namjoon grumbles, clicking his cup against the side of Yoongi's despite feeling embarrassed by his toast.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow and, with his drink to his lips, mutters, "Stop blushing so cutely whenever I do, and I'll consider your request."

Namjoon feels beside himself and pauses with his glass against his bottom lip. Yoongi so openly flirting with him has every inch of his skin feeling hot—has his heart pounding and his head spinning.

As soon as Namjoon takes the shot, the sweet liquor hits his tongue and spreads even more warmth throughout him. Feeling brazen from all the attention, Namjoon chuckles, shakes his head and says, "Shit, this is so bad for me."

Yoongi hums a question, and Namjoon raises his gaze to find his hyung smirking with an eyebrow cocked. He licks his lips then nibbles on the inside of his mouth, watching as Yoongi's eyes follow each movement. 

"You," Namjoon blurts, feeling his face warm with blush. "This. You're so…"

"Charming?" Yoongi supplies jokingly, only that's exactly it.

"Yes. Charming." This makes the apples of Yoongi's cheeks turn a pretty shade of blush, and Yoongi busies himself with pouring two more drinks. The tables have turned, and Namjoon cannot get enough. "When did hyung become so cute, hmm?"

"Please, Namjoon," Yoongi mutters, but his grin tells Namjoon that he enjoys it.

"Please, what? Continue? Cause I could do this all day."

Yoongi shakes his head and slides Namjoon's cup across the table to him, then sits back. Namjoon's mouth drops, and he can't help but chuckle at how adorably shy Yoongi is. This is a plot twist he was not anticipating. 

"To making my hyung so shy," Namjoon taunts as he holds up his cup. Yoongi gives Namjoon an incredulous grin as he raises his glass. "I had no idea you could blush so much."

"Shut up," Yoongi grumbles, holding his cup suspended as if to refuse the toast. 

"Like sakura petals," Namjoon continues, watching Yoongi's eyes widen. "So delicate and pretty."

Something in Yoongi's gaze sharpens, and he taps his glass to Namjoon's and quickly shoots the liquid back. Namjoon grins, feeling satisfied with his ability to make Yoongi squirm. 

As soon as the liquid passes Namjoon's lips, his cup is being yanked from his fingers, and Yoongi is advancing, straddling Namjoon as best as he can at such an awkward angle. Namjoon lifts Yoongi by the hips, adjusts so he is sitting forward on the couch, then lets himself get wrapped in Yoongi's limbs. 

Suddenly, Namjoon feels incapable of speaking as Yoongi's hands find his hair. He has to remind himself to breathe as Yoongi settles his weight on his lap. He must look as dumbfounded as he feels, and Yoongi cocks a playful grin. 

"You wanna play dirty, hmm?" Yoongi practically growls, speaking through his teeth. "Wanna sit here and call me pretty and compare me to flowers?"

"Y-yes."

Yoongi leans close—so close his breath ghosts over Namjoon's face. It is sticky-sweet and fills Namjoon's chest with warmth. "Show me."

"Wh—what?"

"Show me how pretty I am. Show me the way I make you feel."

Namjoon lifts his hands and settles them on Yoongi's waist, cinching his loose shirt. "How?"

"However you want to, Joonie."

Namjoon has kissed people before, so it shouldn't psyche him out, but as much as he wants to kiss Yoongi and show him exactly how he feels, he falters as soon as he inches his face closer. 

Yoongi leans in and rubs the tips of their noses together, and groans, "Don't be shy," and that is all the encouragement Namjoon needs. He closes the miniscule gap between them and captures Yoongi's soft bottom lip between his and sucks gently, pulling a deep gasp from Yoongi's throat. 

The fingers in Namjoon's hair tighten, tugging slightly, and Namjoon responds in kind, gripping firmly to Yoongi's waist. Rather than start slow and ease into it, Yoongi licks over Namjoon's lips and Namjoon gasps, giving him entrance. He moans as Yoongi's tongue rolls expertly over his, and his hands fall to Yoongi's thighs, gently squeezing. 

Kissing Yoongi is better than Namjoon could have imagined. His mouth is soft and inviting, and arousal flows through Namjoon and goes straight to his cock, which tents his pants, aching to be touched. 

"Fuck," Yoongi gasps, pulling from the kiss. His lips are spit-slick and pink, and Namjoon fights the urge to pull them back to his. "I knew kissing you would be good, but…god damn."

It takes a few seconds for Yoongi's words to settle over Namjoon, but as soon as they do, his gaze flies to Yoongi's eyes. "You what?"

Yoongi chuckles and rests his forehead against Namjoon's. There is a swelling of affection in Namjoon's chest that threatens to suffocate him, and he watches Yoongi's lips. 

"Come on," Yoongi mutters, "you can't tell me you've never wanted to kiss me."

"Of course I have, but..." Namjoon blinks rapidly and sucks on his lower lip. He is tempted to pinch himself; maybe he had fallen asleep earlier, and all of this has been a dream. 

"But?"

"But...well...why haven't we been kissing, then?"

Yoongi chuckles and sits back, tilting his head to the side. His hair has fallen from behind his ears, his cheeks and neck are flushed, and he looks devastatingly pretty. He shrugs as he mutters, "I wasn't sure you'd want to."

"You could have asked," Namjoon rebuts, knowing how ridiculous he sounds as he says it. 

"Yeah?" Yoongi challenges, raising his eyebrows. He leans in closer, turning his head to fit their noses beside one another and says, against Namjoon's lips, "I could have simply asked my best friend if he wanted to kiss me?"

Namjoon nods and hums, nipping at Yoongi's bottom lip. "Just like that," he groans as his mouth moves along Yoongi's jaw, making him shutter. "All this time, we could have been..."

Yoongi lets out a whine as Namjoon's lips find his pulse point. "But what if we started kissing and you felt pressured to do more?"

There is a sincerity in Yoongi's voice that makes Namjoon's movements falter. He smiles and inhales Yoongi's sweet natural musk. "I wouldn't have felt pressured. Or, more likely, I would have felt comfortable because it's you."

"Oh."

Namjoon can't help but laugh softly and fall back against the couch. He gazes at the ceiling before tilting his head to look at Yoongi, finding him with a soft but unreadable expression. 

"We are such idiots," Namjoon says with a slow shake of his head. 

"Elaborate."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Namjoon starts, sitting forward and wrapping his arms around Yoongi. "We both have feelings for one another."

Yoongi scrunches his nose in mock disgust and pouts. "Please; who would have a crush on someone as beefy and adorable as you?"

A loud giggle leaves Namjoon's chest. "Beefy and adorable? Wow."

"Have I spoken a single lie on this day?" Yoongi challenges. 

There it is—the tingle of the alcohol settling in and making Namjoon lightheaded. Or, rather, more lightheaded than before. "I bet you've told no fewer than two lies on this day, hyung. But somehow, I can believe that you see me as both beefy and adorable."

"To be fair," Yoongi says as his hands fall to Namjoon's shoulders and rub down to his pecs, "I flirt with you. Openly. All the fucking time."

"Right, blame everything on the virgin, hyung."

There is still a tension that hangs between them, but Namjoon rather likes it. He likes the uncertainty and excitement that comes with having Yoongi on his lap. Until he said virgin, he had actually forgotten what they were doing in the first place, feeling so wrapped up in kissing Yoongi that the goal had been lost on him.

"You're right," Yoongi concedes. "We're both idiots. I should have kissed you ages ago. We have a lot of lost time to make up for."

Yoongi leans forward for a kiss that is deeper and needier than the last. Namjoon moans as his lips fall open, and Yoongi hums a sound of pleasure as he licks into his mouth. Namjoon's arms wrap around Yoongi tighter, and Yoongi rolls his hips, causing his and Namjoon's clothed cocks to rub together. 

A gasp leaves Namjoon's lips, and Yoongi releases the kiss with wide, worried eyes. "Shit," he mutters, "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to—"

"I liked it," Namjoon interrupts, pulling Yoongi's lips back to his in a desperate need to kiss and kiss and never stop. "Don't hold back, hyung."

"Wait, how mu—how much have you actually done?" Yoongi asks, panting against Namjoon's face as if he has just run laps around the apartment. 

Namjoon laughs, loving the effect he has on Yoongi. From this distance, all he can focus on is Yoongi's mouth. "The girl I dated in college would give me okay hand jobs and okayer blow jobs. I fingered her and ate her out. Obviously, I've masturbated."

"Obviously," Yoongi chuckles. "Only okay blow jobs, hmm?"

Namjoon hums and holds Yoongi close. Yoongi rolls his hips, deliberately rubbing their cocks together and forcing a moan from both of their throats. Namjoon can't believe how good he can feel from so little, and he craves more. 

"We'll change that," Yoongi groans into Namjoon's lips. "I'll make you dizzy with my mouth."

"You already are," Namjoon whines, commanding Yoongi's lips. He has had enough talking; he wants to taste and touch and feel. He wasn't sure what to expect tonight, but it definitely wasn't to be so wholly consumed by both desire and affection. 

Namjoon knew, going into this, that Yoongi would take good care of him and treat him like he is something special, but he did not anticipate the feeling of holding Yoongi and kissing him to ignite something so bright inside him. Yoongi has become oxygen, and Namjoon's blaze will surely die without getting its fill. 

Feeling as if he might burst without more, Namjoon groans, "Touch me, hyung. Please."

Yoongi's hands fall to the bottom hem of Namjoon's shirt and tug upward. Namjoon does his best to sit forward, unwrap himself from Yoongi and release the kiss just quick enough to get the pesky garment out of the way before hands and lips are back where they belong. Yoongi rubs his palms over Namjoon's nipples, forcing a groan from him as the throbbing in his pants grows.

"Is my Joonie sensitive?" Yoongi teases into his mouth. 

"Feels good."

Namjoon gathers Yoongi's shirt from the bottom and pulls it over his head, then runs his hands up and down the expanse of Yoongi's back. Yoongi leans in, pressing their bodies together, and Namjoon grabs Yoongi's ass in both hands, forcing his hips to roll and brush their cocks together. 

"Let's move to your bed?" Yoongi asks, and Namjoon takes a firm hold of Yoongi's thighs, scoots forward on the couch, and stands. 

Yoongi yelps and clings to him, and Namjoon can't help but chuckle as he swallows the sound and continues to kiss Yoongi while he makes the short walk to his bedroom. Feeling bold, Namjoon presses Yoongi into the wall, reveling in how Yoongi grinds himself against him, desperate for friction. There is undeniable chemistry between them that takes Namjoon's breath away.

"We're going to have a lot of fun, aren't we, hyung?" Namjoon asks somewhat teasingly. 

"Fuck," Yoongi moans. 

Namjoon backs from the wall, slams his back into his partially open door and then spins as he enters his room. He releases the kiss just long enough to look over Yoongi's shoulder and get him to the bed, then connects their lips once more as he turns and sits down on the edge. Yoongi's hands snake around Namjoon's shoulders, and he gives a firm push, laying him back against the mattress with his legs hanging off the edge. 

"Is there anything you don't want to do?" Yoongi asks as his lips travel to Namjoon's jaw.

"No," Namjoon pants. 

"If you need to slow down or stop, just say so. Okay?"

Namjoon nods, staring at his spackled off-white ceiling. "Of course, hyung. You too."

In one swift movement, Yoongi stands between Namjoon's legs and pulls his joggers and briefs down. "God damn," he mutters, and Namjoon looks to find Yoongi pushing his shorts and briefs to the floor while staring at Namjoon's cock. The attention makes Namjoon blush, but all feelings of shyness evaporate quickly at the sight of Yoongi's length—long, thick and dribbling at the tip. Namjoon has never had a cock in his mouth, and suddenly he wants it badly.

Yoongi places one knee on the bed and keeps his other leg between Namjoon's thighs. He isn't sure what to do with his hands as Yoongi hovers over him, but that doesn't matter because as soon as Yoongi bends and grabs both his and Namjoon's cock in one hand and thrusts, all time and space evaporate, and Namjoon falls limply against the bed, moaning deeply while drowning in a wave of pleasure. 

The dry slide of Yoongi's cock against Namjoon's fills him with a rush he has never felt before. Namjoon manages to make eye contact with Yoongi, enamored with the way his mouth hangs open and his brows knit from pleasure. Namjoon's eyelids flutter, but he does his best to watch as Yoongi unravels above him.

"Feels good," Namjoon manages to whimper. 

Yoongi rubs his palm and fingers over their cockheads and collects the dribbles of precum, sending Namjoon into another dimension with the next downstroke. He needs more. More lubricant, more stroking, more of Yoongi's body above his. 

"Spit," Namjoon suggests.

Yoongi's eyes widen, then he bends, drops their cocks, lifts his hand to his lips and spits. Namjoon wants to test the waters by praising Yoongi for being so obedient for him, but Yoongi grabs their cocks and rubs the spit along their lengths, and Namjoon doesn't find the words. 

Every nerve is on fire—every inch of Namjoon is ablaze. He had no idea something like this could feel so good; he never would have imagined doing this before. Namjoon's pleasure builds at an alarming rate, and he wonders if he might cum like this—if both of them might cum like this. But Yoongi gives them one long, slow tug before releasing both cocks and leans forward to capture Namjoon's lips once more. 

"Don't want to cum yet," Yoongi whimpers into Namjoon's mouth as if reading his mind. "I still need to give you a better than okay blow job."

"I said okayer," Namjoon clarifies against Yoongi's lips, making Yoongi chuckle that deep, pretty sound he likes. 

"I'll give you a blow job that is better than the okayest blow job you've ever had. Sound good, Joonie?"

Yoongi doesn't wait for Namjoon to respond before he slides down onto his knees on the floor. Namjoon scoots his ass to the edge of the bed and attempts to sit up, but Yoongi's hands on Namjoon's thighs move to grip his length and cradle his balls, making Namjoon fall back against the mattress. 

"So big," Yoongi groans, ghosting warm breath over Namjoon's cock. "I wonder if it will fit."

Namjoon has never had a complex about his big dick. He has never let the size get to his head, and when his ex commented about it, he never felt any kind of way, merely blushing and brushing it off. But this—pretty Yoongi holding onto him, groaning about whether or not he will fit—this does something to him. 

Maybe because he knows Yoongi is just teasing him to rile him up. Maybe because he wants to watch the look on Yoongi's face as he tries to sink his big cock deep inside him. Whatever the reason, Namjoon feels good. 

Yoongi slowly strokes Namjoon's length, sending tiny sparks of pleasure through him, and Namjoon manages to anchor himself onto his elbows so he can watch. Yoongi meets his gaze and, with a grin, sticks his tongue out to lick a firm stripe up his shaft. His tongue is wet and warm and feels heavenly as it swirls over the sensitive spot just under his cockhead, making Namjoon groan and shiver. 

"Ready, Joonie?" Yoongi purrs, to which Namjoon nods and mutters, "Please."

Yoongi continues to stroke Namjoon's length as he sits high on his knees and leans over his hips. His tongue flicks out over the tip and teases the slit, and Namjoon's hips jerk from the sensation. Then Yoongi swallows Namjoon's cock into his mouth—deep into his mouth—and Namjoon moans loudly, feeling his body tremble in response. 

Yoongi sucks eagerly. He strokes Namjoon's length in time with the bobbing of his head and and little hums of pleasure with each upstroke, making Namjoon dizzy. 

"So good," Namjoon mutters, feeling his body go limp. His arms give out, lying flat on his back as his eyes flutter closed. "F-fuck," he stammers as Yoongi sucks and licks and swallows him down. He feels overwhelmed and so, so ready to burst. Never has he felt so close to cuming in such little time. 

Yoongi moans around Namjoon's cock, sending vibrations that rock through him and settle in his guts. Namjoon raises one of his hands and tangles his fingers in Yoongi's soft, long hair as Yoongi slurps loudly and sucks Namjoon deep into his throat, swirling his tongue up his length. Namjoon isn't sure how much longer he will last, but he doesn't want to speak it into existence—he doesn't want this to end. 

The hand gently cradling Namjoon's balls squeezes ever so slightly, making Namjoon gasp. Then Yoongi rubs his thumb down, over his perineum, forcing a strong shutter to rock through him. Namjoon's grip on Yoongi's hair tightens, and his hips buck, forcing his cock deep into Yoongi's throat.

"Sh-shit, s-sorry, hyung," Namjoon stammers, loosening his grip.

Yoongi releases Namjoon's cock with a pop. "No, that's good," he mutters, voice raspier than before. "Fuck my throat until you cum."

Namjoon raises his head just enough to look at Yoongi to be sure he is not joking around. Yoongi smiles beside Namjoon's cock while his hand slowly strokes his length, and Namjoon feels his breath catch in his throat from the sight of him—dark, blown-out eyes and swollen, rosy, slick lips. Yoongi looks sinful, and Namjoon wants to catch those lips between his teeth and make him whimper more deep, pretty sounds. 

"Joonie," Yoongi groans with a raised eyebrow. "I gave you an instruction."

Namjoon scrambles to sit up on his elbows, and Yoongi releases his holds and sits back on his heels, creating an uncomfortable amount of distance between his pretty lips and Namjoon's body. Namjoon sits up all the way, scoots forward and reaches to take Yoongi by the hair.

"You sure, hyung?" he asks.

Yoongi grins and nods, lips hanging slack, and Namjoon leans forward and pulls him into a kiss. There is a faint hint of something on Yoongi's lips that must be the taste of Namjoon's skin, and he licks and sucks on his bottom lip, pulling sweet, deep sounds from his throat to swallow whole. Their kiss is sloppy and desperate—a gnash of teeth against teeth and a tangle of tongues. 

"You're so fucking pretty," Namjoon whines, catching his breath. "So fucking good to me. Holy shit."

"I would look prettier with your cock in my mouth," Yoongi groans, and Namjoon tightens his grip on Yoongi's hair, sits up straight and pulls Yoongi's head toward his tip.

Namjoon palms his shaft in his free hand and angles it toward Yoongi's eager mouth. "Open," he instructs, and Yoongi obeys with widened eyes, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out flat. Namjoon finds the right angle for Yoongi's head, lines his cock with his lips and pushes Yoongi down, down as far as it seems he can go. 

Yoongi rests his hands on Namjoon's thighs and sinks his cock even further into his throat until he lets out a soft gagging sound. Namjoon pulls Yoongi's head up, worried he may have hurt him, and finds his mouth and chin covered in drool. 

"More," Yoongi rasps. "I can take it. Give me more."

This time Namjoon sinks his cock into Yoongi's throat while driving his hips upward. Yoongi's hands fall from Namjoon's thighs to the edge of the bed, which he grips onto. Slowly, Namjoon begins to thrust in and out, and already it is too much. 

"I won't last, hyung," Namjoon whines as he picks up his pace. "Do I cum in your throat?"

Yoongi hums something muffled but emphatic and gives Namjoon a thumbs up.

With that, Namjoon bucks his hips. It is sloppy and a bit awkward, but he finds his rhythm, and soon he is fucking Yoongi's throat. Tears pool and run from Yoongi's eyes, and he sputters around Namjoon's length as he seems to be fighting the urge to gag and holy shit, this is going to be Namjoon's undoing—there is no way he is making it out of this alive. 

Yoongi keeps his eyes open, keeps his gaze on Namjoon, and Namjoon unravels so fast he can barely comprehend how everything feels until he is flung over the edge of pleasure. 

"F-fuck, gonna c—" is all Namjoon can manage before he is shooting his release into Yoongi's throat with a pitchy moan. 

Namjoon does his best not to thrust more into Yoongi's mouth, instead allowing his hips to rut in shallow bursts as his orgasm quakes through him. Yoongi swallows down every last drop eagerly, and when Namjoon finally pulls Yoongi's head off him, he is panting and overcome from pleasure and ready to curl into a ball and fall asleep. 

Yoongi grabs Namjoon's spent cock and strokes it, making Namjoon shake from a sudden burst of overstimulation. "Wanna make sure I got every drop," he whimpers as his tongue flicks out and presses into Namjoon's slit. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Namjoon sobs as he tugs on Yoongi's hair to make him stop. "Too much, baby, too much."

Yoongi stops all movement and stares at Namjoon, and suddenly, Namjoon realizes what he has done.

"Baby?" Yoongi asks, with a careen of his head. "Did you just—"

"It was an accident," Namjoon blurts, feeling anxiety crash over him.

Yoongi's lips tug into a playful smirk. "No it wasn't. You called me baby."

Namjoon isn't sure what to say, so he sits and waits for Yoongi's response. When Yoongi makes no move, Namjoon sits up, wraps his hands under Yoongi's armpits and pulls him up enough to make Yoongi hobble up onto his feet. 

"Did you like it?" Namjoon asks, feeling bold despite his uncertainty.

Like this, Yoongi's hard, pretty cock is right in Namjoon's face, and he takes it in one hand, leans forward and licks him from base to crown.

"Fuck," Yoongi whimpers, trembling in Namjoon's hold, leaving his question hanging in the air. "Have you done this before?"

Namjoon holds his tongue out flat and, with it pressed against the sensitive spot under Yoongi's cockhead, he shakes his head slowly, muttering, "Uh-uh."

Gently, Yoongi cradles Namjoon's head. Namjoon sucks the tip of Yoongi's cock into his mouth, closing his eyes to savor the heady mix of tangy and sweet. Yoongi gasps and moans, and Namjoon sucks a little more into his mouth. 

The stretch of Namjoon's lips around Yoongi's cock is a bit uncomfortable, but he loves the way it feels—loves how heavy Yoongi is on his tongue. He sucks Yoongi in a little further, touches the tip of to the back of his throat and gags. Panic surges through Namjoon, and Yoongi, too, apparently, as he pulls Namjoon's head away from him and strokes his hair and cheek. 

"Slow, Joonie," Yoongi purrs. "Don't push yourself."

Namjoon nods and pulls Yoongi closer, snaking his free hand around to grab Yoongi's ass and knead the soft flesh. Yoongi lets out a shattered breath which encourages Namjoon to continue as he wraps his lips around his cockhead once more.

Rather than try to take Yoongi deep into his throat, Namjoon strokes his length, matching each pass of his fist with each bob of his head. Yoongi's fingers tighten in Namjoon's hair, but he doesn't do anything to change the pace. 

"Fuck, just like that, Joonie; you're doing so good," Yoongi moans. 

Namjoon looks up through his lashes and watches as Yoongi's head lolls back and his tummy trembles. What a sight to behold.

"Can you suck your cheeks in?" Yoongi asks sweetly, and Namjoon does as he is asked, causing his lips to make a slurping sound. "That's it. So fucking good, Joonie. So perfect for me."

Yoongi's words sink into Namjoon and settle like warmth in his chest, and he speeds his movements, not sucking Yoongi any deeper but moving his head and hand much faster. Drool falls from his lips and lubricates beneath his hand, and Yoongi's hips begin to shake. 

It takes a while. Finding his pace, getting used to the uncomfortable stretch of his jaw, making Yoongi cum. It takes longer than he thinks it should take, considering how good it felt for Yoongi to give him head, but Namjoon knows he is no pro, and he figures maybe it takes Yoongi a bit longer to get off. Maybe Yoongi is used to better than okay blow jobs. 

But when Yoongi does announce he is going to cum, Namjoon has no idea what to expect. He wants to suck Yoongi's release into his throat and swallow him while milking his cock dry until he is begging him to stop, but he is scared to try that. What if he doesn't like it? 

So Namjoon pulls out, uses broad strokes on Yoongi's length and then squeezes the tip in an effort to let Yoongi's release collect onto his fist. Yoongi still holds onto Namjoon's head as he trembles and moans and lets his orgasm shudder through him, and when he is finally bent at the waist and begging for mercy, Namjoon slowly lets Yoongi's cock go. 

Yoongi pants and anchors himself up with his hands on Namjoon's shoulders. Tentatively, Namjoon leans forward, flicks his tongue out, and collects a bead of cum that has pooled at the tip. Yoongi moans, and his hips jerk, and Namjoon tastes him—thicker and more bitter than his precum was, but just as sweet. 

"I was worried I wouldn't like how you taste," Namjoon admits as he brings his fist to his lips. "But I do like it."

Namjoon holds Yoongi's gaze as he laps the cum off his hand, and Yoongi stares down at him as if awestruck by his actions.

"God damn," he mutters, making Namjoon smirk.

Once Namjoon's hand is clean and Yoongi has caught his breath, they sit side by side on the mattress. Yoongi wraps his arms around Namjoon's ribs and rests his head against him. 

"Are you good?" Yoongi asks. "Should we stop? Keep going?"

Namjoon turns, takes Yoongi gently by the jaw and pulls his lips to his. "Oh, I plan to fuck you tonight, baby," he groans before pulling Yoongi's lower lip between his teeth. 

Yoongi moans and seems to melt as they kiss languidly, letting their tongues push and pull in slow, delicate movements. 

"Better prep me then, Joonie."

Namjoon spent days reading various websites about the best technique, and he has used a finger on himself before, so he is somewhat aware of how this works, but it doesn't stop him from being nervous. Yoongi releases Namjoon from his grasp and crawls onto the bed, laying on his stomach, making Namjoon swoon over how soft and inviting he looks. When he catches Namjoon staring, he pokes his ass out and wiggles it. 

"I cannot express with words how badly I need you to fuck me," Yoongi pouts. "But only if you're ready, my Joonie."

Namjoon swallows thickly, feeling heat spread through him. "I'm ready," he says, half unconvinced by his own words but willing to talk himself through it. He wants to do this. He wants it more than anything. 

"I did a lot of research and I’ve used a finger on myself before, but I’m still kinda nervous. Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop," Namjoon says as he stands, reaches for a bottle of lube on his bedside table and then gets onto his knees on the bed. 

“Used a finger on yourself before, hmm?” Yoongi asks, watching as Namjoon returns to the center of the bed. “I would love to see that.”

Heat fills Namjoon’s cheeks as he wedges himself between Yoongi's thighs. As Yoongi spreads to accommodate him, Namjoon catches a glimpse of his rim—puckered and blush-brown and just as pretty as he imagined—and he sets the bottle of lube beside Yoongi, places both hands on his ass and spreads him wider. 

Yoongi gasps and, through what almost sounds like a nervous chuckle, asks, "Like what you see?"

A groan passes through Namjoon's chest, but it could be mistaken for a growl. Suddenly he feels ravenous, eager to taste as he leans forward and licks over Yoongi's hole. The tangy, sweet flavor on his tongue mixed with a loud moan from Yoongi's lips fill Namjoon with a desire he has never felt. Suddenly, he not only wants to fuck Yoongi, he needs it. 

Namjoon eats out Yoongi's ass like a man starved, spreading Yoongi's cheeks to dive his tongue in deep and stretch him around the muscle. Yoongi whimpers and moans, and the deeper Namjoon fucks his tongue into him, the sweeter the sounds he makes. 

With his tongue plunged in deep, Namjoon pats around blindly on the bed until his fingers grip onto the lube bottle. With his thumb, he flicks the cap open—he is proficient with using this bottle on-handed while scrolling for a video to watch—and he squirts some of the clear liquid straight onto Yoongi's asshole, coating his tongue. 

Yoongi wiggles and shouts, "What the fuck! That's cold!" causing Namjoon to chuckle. He doesn't care much for the taste of the lube, but he loves how messy it feels as his tongue squelches in and out of Yoongi. He rubs a finger over Yoongi's rim as he laps his tongue around. 

Slowly and gently, Namjoon stretches Yoongi around his fingers with plenty of lube and a lot of attention to the way Yoongi sounds, breathes, and trembles. This being his first time, Namjoon studies Yoongi like a delicate, beautiful puzzle that he slowly has to piece together—despite his goal to make Yoongi completely fall apart. Each time Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale or lets out a pitchy, broken moan, Namjoon slows or stills and gives him time to breathe and adjust. Yoongi whimpers and clenches around Namjoon when he is ready for more. 

"Your legs tremble so hard, hyung," Namjoon notes as Yoongi insists on more. 

"Th-that's fine, Joonie. They do that; just give me another finger."

Yoongi is insistent and vocal, and Namjoon watches with his mouth hung open, learning to play Yoongi by ear. After two, and three, and four fingers scissored and twisted and fucked into him every way imaginable, they deem him ready, and Yoongi fumbles to his knees, then pats the bed.

"I want to ride you, Joonie," Yoongi rasps. "Want to kiss you while I steal your precious virginity."

Namjoon can't help but grin as he grabs the bottle of lube and crawls to the head of the bed. Yoongi has moved his pillows to the side, and Namjoon winces as he settles and his back hits the cold wall. 

Yoongi climbs onto Namjoon's lap, straddles him with his thighs, and, as he wraps his arms over his shoulders, studies Namjoon's face with a sweet smile. 

"What is it, baby?" Namjoon asks, loving the way Yoongi's eyes widen from the nickname. 

Yoongi licks over his bottom lip and chuckles to himself. "It's…I don't want to say it."

Concern washes over Namjoon, and he lifts his hands to caress Yoongi's sides. "Whatever it is, hyung, I want to hear it."

"It just feels so…insincere to say while taking your virginity."

Namjoon rolls his eyes and pulls Yoongi close. He does his best to ignore the caress of their cocks against one another and focus on the possible tender moment, moving his hands to hold Yoongi's face less than an inch from his. 

"I just…you know I love you, right, Joonie?"

Butterflies swarm inside Namjoon, kicking up a storm that threatens to make him absolutely fucking vomit his guts out if he is not careful. He swallows a lump and smiles as he says, "Of course." Namjoon knows Yoongi is being sincere, even if all he means is that he loves him as a close friend. But there is a shine in Yoongi's eyes that suggests something more. 

"Also," Namjoon adds with a smirk, "virginity is a social construct, and it's not all that important to me in the grand scheme. I just…haven't felt a connection that I thought would be nice to have with the person I would do this with."

"So this is not all that important," Yoongi teases, pouting, "I see how it is."

Namjoon chuckles and pulls Yoongi's mouth to his, sucking his lower lip until Yoongi lets out a pleased sigh. "Everything about this has been important. I don't know if I'll be able to kiss someone else after knowing how your lips taste."

Blush fills Yoongi's pretty cheeks, and his face falls from playful to something more serious. "Shut up," he mutters.

"I mean it, baby. You're incredible."

Yoongi shakes his head and looks Namjoon in the eye. "Stop. Unless…unless you plan to hold me close and call me baby all the time, I need you to stop."

"Why wouldn't I, baby?" Namjoon challenges.

He pushes Yoongi's buttons, knowing full well that what Yoongi is trying to confess to is bigger than casual best friend love, and he wants to make him say it. Yoongi is so dreadfully stubborn about the silliest things, and Namjoon is not going to allow him to shy away from this.

"Sit on my cock and purr about how much you love me, then, baby," Namjoon says, surprising even himself. "Let me hear how pretty you sound taking my virginity."

Yoongi's face falls from surprise to intrigue before he squints at Namjoon, seeming to accept the challenge. "Gonna fuck you so good, Joonie," he rasps as he raises his hips and reaches for the lube bottle beside their legs. 

"I bet you'll make me feel incredible, won't you, baby?"

Yoongi slathers Namjoon's cock with the lube, then reaches between his legs and rubs some over his own hole. Namjoon rests his head against the wall, feeling his heart pound at a dizzying speed. 

With his ass lined up on Namjoon's cockhead, Yoongi uses his non-sticky hand to pull Namjoon's face close, slotting their lips together for a soft kiss. Namjoon flits his tongue out but can barely focus on anything but the warm, tight press of Yoongi's rim over the tip of his cock. 

Yoongi sinks down so slowly and steadily, and the feeling is so overbearing, Namjoon feels powerless to do anything but sit pretty and allow Yoongi to use him as he pleases. Yoongi moans and sobs into Namjoon's mouth, sucking harshly at his bottom lip, and Namjoon watches the blur of Yoongi's pretty face through fluttering eyelashes as he slowly works himself up and down to take his length. 

"Fuck," Yoongi cries, "you're so big what the fuck."

"S-sorry," Namjoon mutters, forcing a sharp laugh to burst from Yoongi's lungs. 

"That's not something you should apologize for, oh my god, it's incredible."

"Oh," is all Namjoon can say. Nothing makes sense to him, and Yoongi may as well be speaking an unfamiliar language. 

It is unclear to Namjoon whose hips are trembling the hardest, and as Yoongi fully seats himself on his cock, they fall into a puddle, Yoongi gasping and sucking marks into Namjoon's neck while Namjoon's head lolls side to side against the wall. Yoongi is tight and warm and squeezing him so hard, he worries his heart may actually stop beating. 

"Ready?" Yoongi rasps against Namjoon's skin.

Namjoon, in all his disoriented wonder, blurts, "Wh—there's more?"

Yoongi's giggle is bright and lovely. "I still have to fuck you, silly. Ready?"

"N—yeah. Yeah, yes. Fuck. Please fuck me."

With a roll of his hips, Yoongi lifts himself, and just that movement alone is enough to cause something inside Namjoon's brain to snap. It feels so good, so tight yet so slick, and Namjoon worries that he will cum in exactly two seconds flat.

As Yoongi lowers himself, Namjoon cries out, hardly recognizing the pitchy, strangled sound that crawls from his throat. Yoongi's head falls back, and he moans and trembles while his hands scramble to grab onto Namjoon's shoulders.

A roll of his hips up, a crash of his thighs down, over and over until Yoongi has a set, steady pace, and their voices create a grand euphony of lewd cries against the squelch of Yoongi's ass gripping Namjoon so deliciously.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," Namjoon whines as the pleasure begins to reach a new elevation. He is certain that it is too soon, but nothing has ever felt this good and his entire body is in panic mode.

"Touch me, Joonie," Yoongi cries. "Make me cum with you."

Namjoon spits into his palm and grabs Yoongi's cock, forcing a strained sob from Yoongi's chest that further tugs Namjoon up into the heights of arousal and pleasure. Namjoon hardly strokes Yoongi and instead allows Yoongi to fuck them both, down onto Namjoon's cock and up into his hand. 

Yoongi's fingers dig into Namjoon's shoulders as he moans and sobs, "Please, please, please," as his movements become sloppy. 

"Cum, baby," Namjoon moans, pulling Yoongi's face near. "I'm so close."

Yoongi is the first to cum, spraying his release onto Namjoon's stomach fist. The sounds Yoongi makes—gruff, legato notes of pleasure—would already be enough to make Namjoon follow quickly, but it is the fluttering of Yoongi's ass around Namjoon's length, squeezing the absolute fuck out of him, that shoots Namjoon into space. 

Namjoon hardly recognizes his voice—husky yet whiny—as he spills his release into Yoongi and shakes through his orgasm. Yoongi licks and sucks on his lips and tongue as if willing more sounds from him. Then, all at once, it is overwhelming and Namjoon begins to beg. "Too much, too much, baby, please."

Yoongi lifts his hips, dropping Namjoon's spent, heavy cock against his tummy, and pulls Namjoon into a sloppy, desperate kiss. Namjoon's head spins, twinkles as if full of stars, and he sits pliant as Yoongi kisses and touches and praises him for being so, so good. 

As soon as Namjoon feels capable of moving his limbs, he wraps his arms around Yoongi and flops them onto their sides in a crooked, lopsided configuration before pulling him in for another kiss. He wants to pour his heart out—wants to tell Yoongi that he has never loved anyone so deeply as he loves him—wants to tell Yoongi he is certain he may never love anyone the same again. 

Yoongi seems to gain a little more energy and begins to assault Namjoon's cheeks and neck with enthusiastic pecks, making loud, exaggerated kissing sounds. Namjoon can't help but chuckle and try to get Yoongi to stop, feeling somewhat claustrophobic by Yoongi's close, quick movements.

"God, that was…holy shit," Yoongi mutters into Namjoon's neck as he settles down. "I have never felt so—"

Namjoon notices Yoongi hesitate and gives him a tug around the ribs. "Never felt so, what?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "There will be time for that later. I need to fuck you, now."

A chuckle leaves Namjoon, and he struggles to catch up with what Yoongi is saying. "You just fucked me, hyung. You fucked me so good, I thought my heart might actually explode."

Yoongi flops down on his side and pulls Namjoon's face close. There is a darkness in his eyes that Namjoon is shocked he is still capable of; does Yoongi plan to keep going?

"I mean, if you want to call it a night, we can, but…I was hoping to stretch you and stuff you full of my cock…if you'd let me."

Yoongi pouts, and Namjoon shakes his head with a scoff. "Pouting is emotional manipulation, hyung."

"Alternatively," Yoongi grumbles with the raise of an eyebrow, "you could let me eat you out, and if you're feeling good about it, I'll stretch you and fuck you."

Namjoon can't deny wanting to know what it feels like to be eaten out, and—with a deep, exaggerated sigh—he concedes. 

"Alright. Fine. Only because I wanna know what that tongue feels like."

"Yeah?" Yoongi asks, grinning. 

"Yeah."

The giddiness that pours from Yoongi feels a bit disarming, and Namjoon allows Yoongi to roll him over onto his stomach and position him as he likes. He definitely feels shy about letting someone get eye-level with his asshole, but he did plunge his tongue into Yoongi without a second thought and tells himself that probably he has nothing to worry about. 

Yoongi's process is the same as Namjoon's, starting with an eager tongue against his hole. The wet warmth of Yoongi's muscle is beyond anything Namjoon could have imagined, and he fears once more that he may cum too soon. And just as Yoongi had predicted, Namjoon begins to whimper for more, becoming delirious with his desperation to be fucked. 

"Finger me, hyung," Namjoon begs while gripping to his pillow. It is not long until he is accustomed to the stretch and begging again, "Another finger, please, hyung, please." Finally, after three fingers, Namjoon is babbling nonsense, "Fuck me, please. Please, please, hyung, I need you to fuck me."

Yoongi goes slow and is gentle, and as he eases Namjoon into each new stretch, Namjoon feels simultaneously on the brink of death and more alive than he has felt in all his life. By the time he is certain he is ready, he is begging Yoongi as if his life depends on it. Yoongi makes Namjoon flip onto his back, and as he settles between his knees, lubing his cock, he happily agrees to give Namjoon what he wants.

"If it's too much, we'll stretch you more, okay?" Yoongi insists. 

Namjoon feels desperate, and he nods frantically, reaching his hands out for Yoongi. "Yes, sure, whatever, just fuck me, hyung, please."

Yoongi spreads Namjoon's thighs and gets between them, rubbing the tip of his cock against Namjoon's hole. The feeling is light but exciting, and Namjoon gasps and whines, desperate for more; he feels drunk from Yoongi's touch—dizzy and needy and on the edge of total mental collapse.

"Such a good little cockslut and you haven't even felt a cock, yet," Yoongi teases.

All Namjoon can do is groan and plead with his eyes. He likes the way Yoongi talks to him, but it is something he will have to unpack later.

As Yoongi begins gently breaching Namjoon's hole, everything in the room seems to evaporate, leaving just the two of them and nothing else in the world. "Please," Namjoon sobs, and Yoongi presses in a little deeper. 

It stings and feels so good, and Namjoon breathes through the slow, steady stretch, mentally telling himself to relax, relax, holy fuck, relax. It is a process to fit Yoongi inside him—a process to open for Yoongi and be so good for him. 

When Yoongi's hips still and he waits for Namjoon to adjust to the final stretch, Namjoon reaches for Yoongi and pulls him down, eager to feel the slot of their lips together. The movement makes Yoongi's cock sink even deeper, and they connect their lips between gasps and moans. 

"Fuck, baby, you feel incredible," Namjoon whines. "I don't know which is better. But this one makes me feel fucking drunk."

Yoongi chuckles against Namjoon's lips. "I'm so glad you like it, Joonie."

"Not like," Namjoon blurts. "Love. I love this. I love you. Fuck, baby, I love you so much."

It takes the shocked, wide-eyed look on Yoongi's face to pull Namjoon back to earth and realize what he has just said. He feels his face warm, but he doesn't let it deter him. 

"Stop looking so surprised, hyung," Namjoon mutters. He is adjusted to the stretch and begins to grind himself against Yoongi, feeling punch-drunk with love and desire. "We’ve already established that we both have feelings. Now fuck me."

Yoongi scoffs, shakes his head and stares at Namjoon as if, for once, he has nothing to say. They watch each other for a few long seconds until Yoongi pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, filling Namjoon with such a force it punches the air from his lungs with a pitchy sob.

“Too rough?” Yoongi asks with a smirk.

Namjoon shakes his head. He can tell from Yoongi's amused grin that there is a dopey look on his face as he catches his breath. The fullness and dull ache of the stretch are like thorny vines laced with venom, slicing through every inch of him in an ensnaring grip that pins him to the bed. It is intoxicating.

“No,” Namjoon breathes, “I want that again. Fuck me, baby, please.”

“Anything for my Joonie,” Yoongi growls as he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again, this time not giving Namjoon a chance to catch his breath before doing it again. He can’t begin to comprehend the arousal that pools and rushes through him as Yoongi picks up a pace that is far rougher than he fucked himself onto Namjoon’s cock earlier. 

Sloppy consonants and vowels fall from Namjoon’s mouth, some half-formed words of praise and curses. Namjoon’s arms are spread against the comforter while Yoongi holds his thighs open, and he lets his eyes trail over Yoongi’s body—pale with sakura hints that he loves so much; lithe and thin yet muscular and wide—and he allows himself to get fully swept under by overwhelming bliss. 

“Joonie, are you crying?” Yoongi asks with a concerned gaze, and Namjoon lifts an arm and brushes his hand over his temple, finding it wet. All at once, it hits him how good and loved and cherished he feels, and he begins to sob. Yoongi’s hips slow, and Namjoon shakes his head. 

“Good cry, hyung. Please keep fucking me.”

Yoongi smiles and continues, slamming his hips into Namjoon so hard it makes Namjoon feel as if his soul might be slipping from his body. He wants this again and again. He wants this as much as Yoongi will give it to him. 

“Why is my Joonie crying?” Yoongi groans sweetly through his thrusts. 

“I just f-feel so…g-good. I feel love.”

“Are you gonna cum again, Joonie?”

Namjoon is going to cum again, and soon. He nods and attempts to lift his hands. “Kiss me.”

When Yoongi leans forward and angles his body to connect their lips, the sensation becomes even more intense, and Namjoon begins to feel as if he is hurtling toward the finish line. He squeals and pants, and the tears run and run from his eyes.

“Am I hitting your prostate, Joonie?” Yoongi teases against his lips.

“Y—ah—think so.”

Sweat beads on Yoongi’s skin, and Namjoon watches as he knits his brow and drives his cock in deep, precise movements. Although Namjoon’s cock bounces and slaps between his and Yoongi’s tummies, there is a lack of friction that Namjoon expects he would need in order to cum. But he doesn’t.

“Fuck, fu—hyung, holy fuck!” Namjoon sobs as orgasm rushes over him, grips him tight and yanks him down, plunged into depths of pleasure Namjoon didn’t know were possible. Yoongi captures each sound, sucks on Namjoon’s lip and praises Namjoon for being so good. 

“My perfect cockslut,” Yoongi groans. "So good for me."

Namjoon can’t tell if he’s teasing, but he doesn’t mind; he wants to be Yoongi’s cockslut. He wants to be anything Yoongi needs him to be. 

“I’m gonna cum, Joonie,” Yoongi groans.

“Please, please cum in me, baby.”

Yoongi’s back bows as his head flies back, mouth falling open as his hips stutter, and he fills Namjoon with his release. Yoongi rasps sounds that fall short of moans, guttural and rough around the edges, and Namjoon watches in awe as he pants and rides his high above him. He is still crying, and he sniffles as Yoongi finally looks down at him.

“Awe, you’re still crying, Joonie.” Yoongi says sweetly. He pulls out of Namjoon, leaving Namjoon to feel sticky and empty and satisfied. “Did you really confess to being in love with me while I was balls deep in you?”

Namjoon heavy-blinks, feeling warm tears streak his face. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“I didn’t want to confess to loving you like that while we were fucking,” Yoongi groans, scrunching his nose. He settles atop Namjoon, not flinching as his body makes contact with the cum slowly drying on Namjoon’s tummy. 

“Emotional manipulation,” Namjoon grumbles with a smile.

Yoongi chuckles and kisses along Namjoon’s clavicle. “Exactly. But I do…you know that, right?”

Namjoon hums in question, playing dumb; he wants Yoongi to admit it with his whole chest.

“Don’t hmm me, you brat,” Yoongi teases, burying his face into Namjoon’s neck.

“I want to hear you say it,” Namjoon confesses softly. 

Yoongi lifts his head and finds Namjoon’s gaze. He settles his lips against Namjoon’s chin and smiles. “I love you, Joonie. Like…a lot. I don’t want this to be the last time we do this.”

Namjoon feels a swell of affection and hugs Yoongi close. “This won’t be the last time. In fact, I need to hear you moan on a regular basis or I might die.”

Yoongi laughs. Everything feels surreal as they lay in each other’s arms, love-confessed and fucked out. The tears have stopped, but the strong squeeze of emotion grips Namjoon tight. He can’t believe fucking his best friend could turn into something like this.

“Let’s get into a shower,” Yoongi groans against Namjoon’s chin. “You may have lost your virginity, but I still need to teach you the art of fingering the cum out of your asshole so it doesn’t potentially irritate you later.”

All Namjoon can do is laugh at Yoongi's candor as he wills himself to move. "Such a thorough teacher," he teases. 

"Only the best for my Joonie," Yoongi responds with a grin as he sits up and holds his hand out.

Namjoon feels stuck in time, staring at Yoongi in awe of everything that has transpired. A lift of Yoongi's eyebrow pulls Namjoon from his reverie, and he takes Yoongi's hand, groaning as he gets up onto shaky legs and makes his way into his bathroom. 

They shower and giggle and kiss and Namjoon feels like he is standing on clouds—feels like nothing could ever be better than it is right now. He can't believe what a big deal everything actually turned out to be—just not for the reasons he expected. Being here like this in Yoongi's care, feeling sated and loved, is far bigger than anything he could have imagined.

sorry for the abrupt ending? sometimes i get too overwhelmed and my brain goes brrrrr and i can't continue anymore lmaoooo.

please don’t be a silent reader! feedback & reblogs do so much to help content creators!

tag list: @btsstan12, @dasexydevitt13, @giriiboyy & @moonleeai 🌱 wanna be tagged for everything i post? dm me!

Entanglement is copyright 2022 theharrowing, all rights reserved. 

#namjoon x yoongi #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #btscarnivalnet #btswritersclub #btshoneyhive #namgi #namgi smut #namgi au #bts smut #bts fluff #fic: entanglement

[cadkeyper]

Hi my name is Ark and I’m armed with pure delusion, today I’ll be talking about how I could/ would beat every single classic Creepypasta. RIP to the victims, but I’m built different. I barely ever leave my room, I did martial arts training years ago, and I am fueled by nothing other than the McDonalds sprite that runs through my veins. So I think I’m pretty qualified. For the sake of this, I will not allow any of them to be armed with their weapons, this is fist to fist combat.

Nina the killer

In her original story, she’s literally just a nine year old with a knife. I would grab her by the ponytail, and swing her around until she reached a high enough velocity for me to let go and have her hurtle directly into the sun

Ben Drowned / Sonic EXE

I put these two together because the strategy for beating them is pretty much the same. First of all, I’m not a nerd. I would never play sonic or zelda, but let’s say for the sake of debate, I do. After the first time weird things happen, I WOULD OBVIOUSLY STOP PLAYING THE GAME. I turn off my tv, break it, set it on fire, and then I would take the game cartridge, put it in a blender until it was a fine purée, and then drink it to absorb their power

Smile dog

I literally never read my emails.

Jeff the killer

If we’re talking the original, I would whoop his ass so fast it’s not even funny. Once again, he’s like a 13 year old with a knife and a Joker complex. I would slap the shit out of him so hard that it knocks the smile off his face.

Ticci Toby

He can’t feel pain so I would have a harder time getting him down. However, he does have Tourette's, and as somebody who also has it, I would just tic which would trigger him to tic, (this happens from personal experience it’s agony) and then I would get him. (This may also result in me ticcing back, and we would reach a stalemate)

Eyeless Jack

I literally never sleep, so if he wants to sneak into my room at night to take my kidneys, good luck. If he got within a foot of me, I would jab my fingers into his eye sockets and make him double blind. As he stumbles around with double no eyes, I lunge at him and I take HIS kidneys. See how he likes it.

Laughing Jack

I could beat him as a child. If he tried to pretend to be my imaginary friend, I’d completely exhaust him. I was a wolf kid. I had a reputation for how hard I could kick people in the shin. I am not defending myself from him, he’s defending himself from me. I would grab his nose and twist until it made a 🌀shape

The Rake

If he runs at me, I will simply kick him in the face so hard that all of his teeth fall out. Before the battle, I would rub my entire body in the most foul tasting, disgusting thing you could ever imagine. Like ghost peppers, or limes, or bananas. So when he goes to bite me, he recoils and is so disgusted he retreats, allowing me to win by default

Slenderman

If I’m not mistaken, he likes to stalk his victims before finishing them off to drive them bonkers. He tries this with me, that’s his first mistake. Every time I see him, I will also set off an extremely loud obnoxious noise, like an airhorn, or any song on my kazoo. He thinks he’s coming to stand outside my window and jumpscare me, WRONG he’s getting his eardrums blown out with every Nicki Minaj song ever released. In addition to that, I will go out of my way to constantly bully him at every turn. Instead of drawing cryptic symbols on my walls, I’m writing stuff like “SLENDERMAN IS SO TALL HIS PRONOUNS ARE FE/FI/FO FUM”. He will eventually grow so frustrated/ confused at my constant harassment that he decides to leave me alone and that I am not worth the effort. If he sends his proxies after me, we’ve already established that I could absolutely dominate each and every single bone in their bodies This has been my personal guide to beating most of the classic Creepypasta’s and I do not take constructive criticism <3 

#I might do a part two since I did not get to cover everyone #I am also open to doing an entire post on slenderman there are several ways I could beat him #Creepypasta #nina the killer #ben drowned #smile dog #jeff the killer #ticci toby #eyeless jack #laughing jack #the rake #slenderman #slenderverse #ark arena

[forbidding-souda]

Hey Mod Monomi can you do Mahiru, Kaede and Kirumi with a Boyfriend that has ADHD?

Mahiru, Kaede, and Kirumi with a Boyfriend with ADHD

You know my neurodivergent ass can’t say no to an ADHD request!! Also look I'm actually trying to match this blog's theme instead of my usual chaotic one because I felt like it clashed with the other mods! Sorry about that :(

Once again I feel I have to mention this: Although I have ADHD, my experience is not the same as anyone else's and if your symptoms were not represented in this I'm sorry. Please just remember that you are valid and strong!

Okay please enjoy!

-Mod Monomi

Mahiru Koizumi

♡ Mahiru's a bit of the mom type so if you're hyperactive, she might think you're a bit much but she still loves it and loves your energy!

♡ She definitely seems like the type that would remind you to take your meds every day if you're medicated.

♡ Helps you out with any tasks you might need!

♡ If you have sensory sensitivity and can't handle bright lights she always has the flash off on her camera when you're around, even when she's not taking pictures.

♡ Mahiru seems like the type that would write things down for you if you have trouble remembering things.

♡ As we saw in chapter two, Mahiru definitely doesn't mind offering to help if you have trouble taking care of yourself. She just wants to make sure that you're safe and happy. <3

Kaede Akamatsu

♡ Kaede wouldn't treat you any differently!

♡ For her, your hyperactivity was really good energy and it always put her in a good mood!

♡ Lots of words of encouragement. Knows how intrusive thoughts feel and she knows that your ADHD can make them a lot harder for you so she always has something up her sleeve to make you feel better.

♡ And if her words of encouragement don't do anything for you, she's happy to play the piano for you. There's nothing better than listening to one of her songs when your mind is overstimulated.

♡ Kaede comes up with little jingles to help you remember things and it's so cringy but it's the cutest thing in the world hehe!

♡ She uses how much you fidget as an excuse to teach you how to play the piano, explaining how it might be a constructive way to release tension in your fingers.

♡ Kaede will do anything to make you feel loved and happy <3

Kirumi Tojo

♡ Kirumi could tell.

♡ She's essentially the best partner you could have if you don't have motivation because she doesn't mind working.

♡ She's happy to cook for you, clean for you, or do anything else you might need!

♡ Kirumi does lots of research so that she can be more sensitive to you, and she's happy that she did!

♡ Kirumi always keeps some fidgets on her for you in case you need them. If you don't use them, she's still happy to just chat.

♡ If your ADHD makes you talk a lot Kirumi doesn't mind at all! And it doesn't matter what you want to talk about either. If you have a favorite show or a special interest, or even if you're just rambling she loves it all!

♡ Kirumi listens to everything you have to say. You are her favorite person after all. :3

#mod monomi #kaede akamatsu #kaede akamatsu headcanons #kaede akamatsu x reader #mahiru koizumi #mahiru koizumi x reader #kirumi toujou x reader #kirumi x reader #kirumi tojo x reader #kirumi tojo #kirumi toujou #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa

[tkworks80]

Wings

Chapter 5

Sorry it's a short chapter but, the next chapter is where the fun begins

Opening your eyes, you suddenly realized that you weren't at the construction site but at your old home. You groaned from the pain of the pounding sensation in your head. You slowly tried to get up but felt the tug from your sore ankle. Your neck was sore, your wings felt bound, and you felt so nauseated because you heard the familiar backstabber voice.  A sudden surge of anger came rushing through you like a tsunami rushing to land. "GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! KEIGO YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU WENT TOO FAR!" you yelled out hoping he heard you. Trying to wiggle your wrists out of the bindings to get to your wings. Then you paused because you heard fast footsteps rushing into the room. 

"Woah there y/n…settle down babe," Keigo said.

"Keigo. Untie. Me. You. Egotistical. Cheating. Lying. Piece of shit! So help me God!" You warned. 

"Babe, calm down y/n. Do you think you can just get rid of me with a simple piece of paper? I don’t think so," Keigo sauntering closer to y/n. "Our bond is stronger than divorce, baby I only married you to satisfy the societal norms, we are not normal people with quirks baby," Keigo stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Our bond is broken, you cocksucker!" You yelled out.

"No, no I don't think so babe…we both have to agree to break the bond…you can't just say our bond is broken. You might as well talk to the wind," he chuckled. "You of all birds should have known," he chuckled once again.

"Fuck…what do I have to do to get you out of my life?!" You sobbed out.

"I'm glad you asked babe. All you have to do is give me a hatchling…nothing more, nothing less," he answered with a giggle.

"Your fucking joking with me, right? I wouldn't touch you even if you paid me," you looked at him with disgust.

"Oh come on now babe, I think I'm an attractive man, deserving to be a father. Besides Moni can't give me what I want only you can," he devilishly smiled at you. He turned to the bedroom door and called out someone you never wanted to see again. Moni slowly walked in with caution cause she knew that you could hurt her. Keigo was gently coaxing Moni to come closer to him. She did as she was commanded to do.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You bitch! Let me the fuck go you cunts!" You screamed in anger. Struggling against the ropes violently. You heard Moni ask if it was safe for her to be in the room with the very angry y/n. "Let me go and I won't hurt your precious leftovers from Dabi," you snarled.

"Leftovers? I'm not no one's leftovers y/n," she hissed at y/n.

"Just wait until I get free, I'm going to give you a well-deserved ass beating and then fly you to wherever he's located," you threatened. "I don't know why you're doing this Moni…didn't I graciously give you Keigo at the hospital? Why the fuck are you helping him now?" You questioned.

"Huh? Moni…you were there?" Keigo questioned.

"Yeah, and yes she did give you to me," Moni whispered while looking down. 

"Unbelievable…y/n, what the fuck," he whispered.

"Oh please, stop acting like a victim Keigo 'cause you're not. You cheated on me," you answered. Watching Keigo pacing back and forth from Moni to the bed. "What the fuck is wrong with you dude…did Dabi’s inferno attack cause you brain damage?" You scoffed. "Not that you got hit with it first," you quietly mumbled.

"What are you going on about? I apologized to you already…what do I have to do in order for you to drop it already?! FUCK y/n how can we move past this?" Keigo yelled out of pure exhaustion.

"That's the thing asshole…we can't. Just let me go so we both can move past. Aren’t you tired?! Let me go," you demanded.

"Your negotiating skills need a little touch-up y/n…you always fought first ask questions later kinda gal," Keigo let out a tiny chortle.

"Keigo…please babe can I leave this room?" Moni interrupted his chuckle.

"No. Stay right there babe," Keigo ordered. Moni stood there acting vulnerable. Her anxiety start to go into overdrive seeing y/n tied up on Keigo’s bed and Keigo’s demeanor was unconcerned. Like it was just a normal day at the office. Y/n caught wind of Moni's expression and thought she could coax her into letting her go.

Keigo caught y/n's expression and knew right away what she was planning.

"Stop it y/n. She's not going to help you. Her loyalty is with me babe," he said as a matter of fact. "She can't fight me babe…not like you can…remember she's quirkless," he reminded her. Moni looked up at Keigo with disappointment. "What? I'm just stating facts for this matter," he stated to Moni.

"See Moni, he is basically calling you a powerless woman with no quirk, and will let him use you. Are you going to let him talk to you like that?" Y/n smiled. You knew that Moni hates being powerless that was a flaw she shared with you during junior high. So you tried to exploit her weakness against both her and Keigo.

"Keigo, is that what you really think of me?" Moni questioned with hurt in her eyes.

"Moni leave the room. Don't you see what y/n is doing? She's trying to make us fight…pin us against each other so that you could help her," Keigo was convincing Moni. "Go to the living room sweetheart. I'll handle y/n on my own," he gently escorted Moni to the door.

When Moni left, he quickly turned to y/n. "Naughty, naughty babe…trying to start some drama," he smirked while opening a drawer next to the door. 

"Keigo, what are you doing?" Y/n panicked. Observing what Keigo is doing you saw him pulling out a syringe and a vial. He taunted you with it.

"Do you know what this very important vial is? It's ¹corticosterone and prolactin mixed with a very potent aphrodisiac. Let's say that the more stressed you are, the more it inhibits our mating to be very successful," he slyly smiled. "But this is for later," he added. 

"WTF…" was all you mustered out to say cause you were truly frightened at the unhinged Keigo before you. 

"So, you're going to force a hatchling in me?!” you questioned.

“Didn’t you ask me what you have to do in order for me to leave you alone and I had told you of my desire to become a father?” he reminded you.

¹corticosterone and prolactin may be measured to predict when a breeding pair will begin laying eggs, how often they'll lay eggs, and the total eggs they will lay during the breeding season. Corticosterone production increases during activity and stress, inhibiting reproduction.

#aphrodisiac #yandere keigo takami #yandere hawks

[liliallowed]

What if the shifting mound (princess) and dust sans met or switched places. All I think about is them.

tbh I head canon dust as more of a long quiet and the chaotic/destructive nature of the player as the shifting mound bit yeah it does also feel funny to swap dust next to the princess in the worlds!

first of all... the script would break. obviously. and maybe dust somehow ending up in that world actually breaches the constructs design if either player or dust interfere cuz the two sleeping gods are not supposed to have any visitors.

if the princess and Bird boi end up in the Undertale universe? that'll be more likely. since aus tend to be more lenient with outcodes than a literal god prison.

the meeting circumstances aside, when faced with the choice to save the world and kill an unknown entity, dust ironically... couldn't care less!

if it's not his world? so what? he doesn't care for the humans that'll die. and he's no savior. let it die! he'd turn around and walk away... only to end up back at the road to the cabin.

it's going to trigger him. and it WILL TRIGGER his reset phobia BADLY.

"fine. if this place INSISTS? he'll just get it overwith and then leave."

he won't do it for the world but he WILL do it if he feels trapped.

once confronted with the "princess" he gets a sense of sick familiarity from her. not HER personally but her KIND. like being faced with a powerful being veiled in a weakened shell and a humanlike vessel.

not

another

fucking

anomaly

he's going to bash his head against the wall with an annoyed groan. he's also probably going to stab the talkative crow that follows him around and kill him on the spot.

(rip narrator)

then he's going to ask what she wants, and how this world works and HOW MANY TIMES they've already had this conversation before. he won't bring the blade, he has plenty of weapons to work with. (and the knife brings bad memories.)

the princess would first think he's a grim reaper or something... them she'd question his sanity...

oddly enough? it doesn't FEEL like he's lying and it FEELS like something is familiar but not him. not her other half. not her... missing parts? something outside of the construct. her mortal vessel would be concerned, a bit scared and maybe even get a bit aggressive and defensive... but he doesn't KILL her. he can pin her down and interrogate but he WON'T kill her because he fears it'll end up resetting.

the shifting mound itself would be EXTREMELY intrigued... and probably instantly just take him away to ask stuff curiously about the outside or if he knows how to get out. she'd ask for so many new possib- /STAB/

yeaaaah no. he's dealt with time bending people before and he ain't afraid to collapse the entire world for the sake of pissing them off. if he has to use the ol, special attack of literally doing nothing to bore the anomaly to death? so be it!

she'd see the contrarian ego and the stubborn ego in him, but also the broken ego from quiet and parts of her own other vessels.

so familiar yet so completely different. this vessel was sharpened like a fine blade to fight. yet damaged in the process.

refining iron again and again till something broke. something dud this to him on purpose. it wasn't an accident.

she knows that feeling through her adversary vessel but doesn't relate to it deeply. she can't understand it from a mortals perspective. because to her all that pain is simply just an experience or a fleeting dream.

it's not real. nor will it ever be. she's a god. she wouldn't know.

also she'd probably try looking where the hell her husband/mortal enemy vanished to.

she's not sure if she can direct her branches to open a path to dusts universe since it's not just hopping timelines or multiverses.

it's hopping entire DIMENSIONS. two completely different stories.

meanwhile:

player: YOU SUCK AT THIS YOU NERDASS BIRD!

quiet(stubborn):SHUT THE FK UP YOU EIGHT GRADE SYNDROME LOSER WITH A GOD COMPLEX I WILL KICK YOUR ASS EVEN WITHOUT MY GOD POWERS

player: COME AT ME BICH I ALWAYS COME BACK!

quiet: I WILL ALWAYS COME TO BARGAIN!

player: YOUR LV ISN'T EVEN ABOVE FIVE YOU WHIMP!

quiet: WTF IS LV!? (*angry bird noises*)

[the two immortal anomalies get along well]

#slay the princess #dusttale #crossover #i love all four of them #quiet and player are basically toxic Fortnite players #that camp on each others revival spots #dust would be grossed out by shifting mound #and will not soften up to her #despite that shifting mound thinks his attempts to harm her are adorable

[vodkacranberrywitch]

How Harry feels about fans (Short)

This ended up not being short.

What does he think of his fans? And just for fun, I'm also going to do what his family thinks of his fans and what his friends think of them.

Harry's thoughts - 8 of swords rx, the world rx, and 3 of cups rx. The world rx is lack of bond or severed bond. Could also be an ingenuine bond. 8 of Swords rx is seeing things differently but can also be no longer relying on excuses. 3 of cups rx is neglect and engaging in isolation.

So, how do I read this? I think at one point, his fans were behaving badly and he was making a lot of excuses for them. Then they must have done something really out of pocket because suddenly he is pulling back from them and isolating himself. The side of him that he shows fans publicly may be constructed because he doesn't feel as comfortable with them as he did in the beginning of his career. I am curious and if I could have one of his fans. ONLY ONE. Inbox me and let me know if you feel disconnected from him because I feel like he wants to be disconnected from his fans and he's doing it on purpose.

Harry's Family's thoughts - death, the chariot rx, and the hermit rx

Harry's family at one point saw the fans differently than they do now. I think similar to Harry, there was a time when they felt they could be open, but with death, it's like the other party/ the fans changed. Maybe they got a little too comfortable. Because of this, the family also had to change how they saw the fans and how they treated them. So the family might have put up some more boundaries towards fans. With the chariot, the fans may at times do things or say things about Harry that provoke an emotional reaction out of the family. So this could be annoyance, happiness, or anger. Regardless, the family still hasn't learned to ignore things the fans say and they let it get them riled up. The chariot can be being powerless against or not having control of your emotions in a relationship spread. With the Hermit, they want to isolate themselves from the fans. This is more long periods of silence, so you may hear from them or see them once and then not for a long time. They may also be critical of the fans and have expectations on how they should behave, so once again, boundaries.

Harry's Friends thoughts - the star rx, 2 of cups rx, the sun lol

The star tells me that his friends enjoy the attention and perks they can get from his fans. However, because it is reversed, they also get frustrated by them. The star rx would tell me you are overstepping, giving too much attention to things. The sun is happiness. So this kind of goes with the star in that they are happy with the perks and attention the fans bring. When the fans are giving them what they want they like the fans. What conjuncts these two cards is 2 of cups rx, so this is like codependency and lack of co-operation. So it's kind of like every good deal comes without a kick in the ass. (Sorry, couldn't think of the phrase). Basically, they feel like they need the fans but they also want to control how the fans interact with them. So this is like, I want the attention you bring, but I don't want the stalking, I don't want the obsessive attention to my life, I don't want you knowing my show size.

Okay, it's all clicking now. These fans did this to Harry and his family and it creeped them out and it made them want nothing to do with them. Or at the very least, it made them less open to revealing information. I think probably everyone in Harry's life goes through something similar to his friends in that they enjoy the fan attention at first but then the fans start crossing a line.

Ugh there's another question I want to ask that involves Olivia Wilde but this post is so long. I'm going to touch on it in the upcoming reading about them.

As always, thank you for reading! These readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes.

Requests are closed!

#celeb tarot #harry styles #harry styles tarot #tarot reading