#idk where this was going i just needed a moment to be dumb and these takes are mind and you can ignore me lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year

Text

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you.

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers.

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment.

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow.

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.”

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it.

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth.

“Jihoon, wait-”

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!”

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd.

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here.

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?”

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?”

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket.

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.”

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh.

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that?

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit.

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!”

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.”

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little.

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!”

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students.

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit.

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage.

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!”

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully: “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…”

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-”

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss.

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly.

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?”

“Yep.”

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.”

“You’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?” _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.”

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.”

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board.

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows.

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await.

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.”

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?”

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you.

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies.

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.”

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..”

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.”

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.”

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her?

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!”

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips.

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more.

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!”

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-”

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.”

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.”

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you.

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.” _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed.

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?”

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!”

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.”

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.”

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you?

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?”

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed.

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?”

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!”

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.”

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation.

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.”

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.”

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you.

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you.

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims.

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?”

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.”

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!”

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!”

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!”

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker.

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…”

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too.

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?”

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!”

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.”

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!”

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!”

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.”

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.”

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes.

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!”

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…”

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!”

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’.

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich.

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!”

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily.

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head.

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?”

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.”

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.”

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!”

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.” _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening.

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on.

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you?

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..”

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-”

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this.

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice-

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!”

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?”

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-”

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!”

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you.

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.”

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?”

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.”

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?”

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word.

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet.

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.”

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.”

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh.

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!”

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile.

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?”

“Hm?”

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?”

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.”

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?”

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where-

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house.

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have.

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?” _____________________________

“Jihoon?”

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers.

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.”

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.”

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?”

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Oh.”

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street.

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch.

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor.

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring.

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other.

“Why?” you ask.

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-”

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-”

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-”

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him.

There are flowers in his hands.

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code.

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.”

He nods.

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers.

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?”

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?”

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?”

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?”

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you. He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest.

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted, cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love.

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.”

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.”

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy.

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you.

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again.

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy.

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it.

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy.

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him.

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?”

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-”

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts.

“Sorry, it was just-”

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.”

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?”

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers.

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously.

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit.

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?”

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth.

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side.

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.”

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling.

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again.

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.”

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile.

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.”

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.”

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.”

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.”

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan.

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-”

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?”

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?”

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.”

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.”

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you.

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively.

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious.

“... Are you still hard?”

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised.

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along.

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.”

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing.

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.”

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..”

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse.

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior.

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.”

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins.

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

#svt smut #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi angst #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #svt woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #svt angst

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thefaefiction · 1 year

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In Too Deep. [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston x Reader GENRE: Smut !! WARNINGS: Age gap, teacher x student relationship, smut, daddy kink, praise, piv sex, choking, degradation if you squint, aftercare, fem!reader, written with a chubbier reader in mind but it's not obvious, also the beginning is rushed SUMMARY: After developing an intense relationship with your English professor Mr. Hiddleston, you both are in too deep to let it go to waste.

A/N: im not gonna lie i had no clue how to actually begin this fic because it's literally just an excuse for me to indulge in my delusions so sorry that the first couple paragraphs are weird and rushed </3 also the school email domain is fake idk if it's real don't pay attention to it LMAO

Your obsession with your English professor was no secret to your friends. Elio, your long term best friend and dormmate, has had to interrupt you from your delusions on more than one occasion which was already one too many -- whether that be purposefully failing a paper to see him after class, wearing a skirt far too short and dropping a pencil in a calculated manner in front of him, or staring at him a little too intently during lectures -- it was becoming a problem.

In the professor's multiple classes of forty-some-odd students, there really were only a few that were delusional enough to believe they could sleep with their teacher. The difference between you and them was that you were patient with your actions and the effects it had on him.

Ultimately your patience paid off, as one Friday you received an ominous email with the heading titled 'Make-up Work' from a particular '[email protected].' In the details, he simply requested your presence at a disclosed location only ten minutes from campus on Sunday. It was not an office nor a dorm, but a house.

It wasn't long before his intentions were made clear when you arrived; his eyes dark with lust and a half buttoned shirt upon opening the door.

"(Y/N)," He welcomed, cocking his head and shutting the door behind you. "Lovely to see you."

"Pleasure's mine," You reply, never breaking eye contact. You slide your coat off and he takes it in his hands, hanging it up for you. You knew where the night was going to end -- inviting a student to talk not just outside of office hours, but in the professor's home, is not something usual.

"I thought we could discuss an appropriate way to help get your grade back up in my class," He begins. His eyes look down for a moment, observing your obviously risqué attire. "Do you have an idea as to what way that might be?"

He was going to make you say it. There was no way around it. Still, you decided to entertain his antics until it was made painfully and obviously clear he was trying to get you to say what you know he wants you to say.

"I think," You start, voice beginning to shake. The confidence you had starting this endeavor was suddenly challenged. "I think one-on-one time is certainly needed." You press your lips together in a line.

He hums, taking an agonizing step closer. He looks down into your eyes, furrowing his brows and letting out a soft laugh. "I'm not dumb, (Y/N)," he retorts. "I know you're a smart girl. You're excellent, actually -- some of the best writing from all of my classes combined." The professor stops, taking a step back to his original position. "So why are you really here?"

A moment of silence.

"You know why," You sheepishly croak out.

"Flatter me by saying it, then." He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting for you to speak.

"I want you to fuck me."

With the words already said, there was no going back. Your chest sunk, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up and beginning to eat away at your skin. All of those feelings were put to rest the second your professor spoke: "Was that so hard to ask, love?"

Professor Hiddleston turned on his heel, two fingers signaling you to follow him like a lost puppy. He led you down a long hallway in painful silence, finally twisting the knob to a door that revealed his bedroom. It was sleek and clean, covered in shades of black and gray with no mess dared to be left out.

He shut the door behind you and immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, holding your gaze with his light eyes. "Quickly," He commented. "I don't like waiting."

Your face flushed, embarrassed at his demand. You looked away and lifted the hem of your shirt-

"You will look at me," He orders, finishing the last button. "With how bold you are in my classroom I would've thought you'd take more control," He pokes, smirking. "Who would've thought you're just a shy little girl desperate for attention from her professor?"

Your thighs squeezed together, you're sure it doesn't go unnoticed as he grins the moment it occurs. You lift your top off as he watches, simultaneously beginning to unbuckle his belt. The sound makes you shiver.

"Good girl," He praises. You shiver in response.

As he tosses his belt to the side, you begin sliding your skirt off, letting it fall to the ground and pool at your feet. Your professor mimics with his slacks, walking closer and caressing your cheek. "Bed."

You obey, laying down on his duvet as he crawls up your body, sending shivers down your spine. "Professor-"

"Tom," He corrects. "No need for formalities at this point, yes?"

You blush before continuing. "Tom, are you sure?"

"I've been sure since the first time you tried to tease me in class," He replies. "I don't think you understand that I think about you every fucking night in my bed, about the things I would do if I were just able to have you."

You smile, your confidence returning almost instantly. "You have me, sir."

Tom grunts in the back of his throat, his body towering over you as he tears your underwear off, the cracking of the seams startling you. Immediately his hands find your sex, running his hands over it and around your thighs. His hands diligently run under your back, you arch, giving him easier access to remove your bra.

"God, you're stunning," He whispers before connecting his lips to yours. He pulls on your face, his teeth making contact with your lips and bruising their pink color in moments. As he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your mouths and you squirm beneath him.

Tom sits up and begins removing his boxers. The tent in them is noticeable -- and horrifying. You can tell he's big even without seeing it.

Not like you've thought about it before, though.

Now completely undressed, he puts his hands under your waist and drags you forward with a grunt. His hands dig at the fat of your hips and travel along your plush thighs, a moan escaping your lips as his fingers dance on your skin.

"Does my little girl need her professor's cock?" Tom provokes, sliding his shaft between your folds -- up and down, up and down, up and down.

You whine, nodding eagerly in hopes to get him to just put it in already, but your meek noise wasn't good enough for him. "Use your big girl words, darling." He puts his thumb and pointer finger against your chin, urging you to look at him him; eyes burning through your skull.

"Daddy," You spit out too quick, back arching. "Please, need you inside of me so bad!" The sheer volume of your pleas and the new title takes Tom aback, yet his cock ached with every sultry word you spoke.

"Good girl," He praises, grinning at you beneath him. You watch as he inserts himself, pressing just the head into your heat. You let out a guttural moan, eyebrows furrowing in a lovely mix of pain and pleasure. He begins slowly easing himself into you further, inch by agonizing inch, until he completely bottoms out; releasing a groan as his head lolls back. "God, you feel so good princess," He praises, "Taking me so so well, yeah?"

His words struck a chord within you, forcing a smile on your face. You whimper, brain not being able to form a complete thought at how deep he was inside you and how just damn good it felt. He was much bigger than anyone you'd taken before by a longshot. Your walls clenched around him and he laughed, cock twitching inside of you. He slowly slides back, leaving just the head in, and then pushes forward quickly, earning a loud, needy, moan from your lips. "Look at you, so drunk on me, hm?" He says, pulling back and then ramming himself deep into you, bruising your cervix. "Tell me what you want, doll. What is it you need from daddy?" He teases, never averting his eyes from your gaze.

"Please," You whine, "Need you to to move, need daddy to make me come!" And without hesitation, he picks up the pace, rapidly fucking you while his hands grip the headboard. You can hear it hitting the wall, and suddenly you're glad he has a house instead of an apartment. The noises you're making are obscene, something any practiced Catholic would need to cross themselves after hearing. "Feels so good daddy!" You spit, earning a groan from him.

Tom turned almost animalistic during sex; his grunts sounding more and more like growls as he fucks you brainless. "Fuck!" He moans, taking a hand off of the wood above you. He quickly puts his free hand on your throat, squeezing and forcing your eyes to meet his once again. "Like being choked by daddy, yeah? Like daddy to make you feel powerless, hm?" He smirks, observing the visual pleasure and shock on your face.

You're so close, you can feel yourself on the verge of your orgasm, and his dirty talk was pushing you even closer. The hand on your throat squeezed, and you clenched down on him, causing Tom to curse under his breath. "Want your cum daddy," You squeak out, "Pleasepleaseplease!" You mumble in strands of pleasure.

"Feel so good," He praises. "Come for me, be a good girl and come for daddy, yeah?" He was fucking you hard, and fast, and he still managed to pick up the pace. His skin slapped against your skin, filling the room with hard smacks and grunts and moans; endless strings of 'daddy' and 'good girl' running from both of your lips.

"Want you inside me daddy," You choke out. Your head lolls to the side and bounces against the pillow, a lazy smile forming on your face. "P-please!" You whine.

That pushed Tom over the edge. He was too far lost in himself, leaning down and growling into your ear. "Ask and you shall receive," he teases.

As if on cue, you both come together, the wave of pleasure rushing over you both. You could feel his warmth filling you up, leaking down your heat and spilling onto his bed. "Fuck, Y/n!" He grunts, "Took me so so well little girl."

You couldn't think, let alone speak. Tom stayed inside of you, helping you ride out your orgasm, not wanting the feeling of your sweet sex to leave him. He took his hand off of your throat and stroked the site, soothing the redness with a sultry kiss. You hummed in response, letting your body fall limp. After a few moments, he pulled out.

About three things Tom was absolutely certain: One, he should’ve never become romantically entangled with one of his students. Two, engaging in this behavior put his entire career in jeopardy due to it being wildly illegal. Three, he was, without a doubt in his mind, unconditionally in love with everything about you.

As you laid on his chest, foreheads drenched in sweat and bodies stuck together, you felt more at home than you'd like to admit. One hand messaged your back, drawing figure-eights on your skin, and the other pet your hair, occasionally drawing his lips close to kiss the top of your head. You burrowed your head into him, clinging onto his body. He grinned.

"I should've never let it go this far," Tom said, his voice raspy and deep with post-sex clarity, "but I'm afraid I'm in too deep to give it up now." He let out a low laugh, your head bouncing with his chest.

You smiled. "I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to return to normal after this," You commented, "and, well, not to be dramatic but having sex with your professor twice your age does things to you." Tom chuckled, looking down at you and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

"This is all so wrong," He mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, "And yet I wouldn't have it any other way." He pressed a kiss to your lips, the kind of kiss that left a permanent stain of love and lust on your mouth. It was deep, meaningful, and romantic. Tom stared at you, taking in your features and basking in each and every one. "You are breathtaking, darling."

You hid your face in his neck, attempting to suppress the toothy grin you'd almost shown him, however he pulls your head up with his pointer finger and thumb, admiring your rosy cheeks. "Poor baby, so sensitive to my compliments," He jests, letting out a low hum.

You roll your eyes at him. "It's not my fault that daddy somehow knows all of the words that light a fire in me," You emphasize on the word 'daddy,' which forces what sounded like a groan from the back of his throat. "I don't want to go," You admit, falling back into his embrace.

"I know love," He says calmly, stroking your hair and pulling you into him tight. "We can stay like this as long as you'd like, but eventually I'll have to bring you back."

You hum into just chest. "Just a little bit longer," you say to Tom. "I'm still recovering."

⟡

When you arrived back at your dorm, much later than you anticipated, Elio looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. "Back so soon?"

"Shut up," You laughed, dropping your bag to the ground and kicking off your shoes. You wobbled into the dorm, legs still sore and threatening your balance. Clearly Elio had noticed this, as the first thing he said after greeting you was "Well aren't your movements suspicious," and your cheeks flushed red. "I do not need to explain my late night endeavors and my later night actions," You began, "But,"

"But..?" Elio lead, leaning forward in his seat.

"But." You ended, pressing your lips together with a hidden grin and nodding your head.

"No!" He gasped, smiling widely and clasping his hands, putting his chin on the top of his fingers. "Please tell me everything! Not that I need to know the gory details of your sex life but, like, was he..?" Elio put his hands in front of him, fingers forward, and spread his arms apart.

"Shut up!" You giggled, swatting his hands. "But yes. Yes he was. Very."

"I knew it." He said, shaking his head. "I knew he was packing."

"Not to ruin our gossip but I need to lay down with a heating pad or something because standing is hurting my body," You laughed. "I think that man busted my cervix."

"Okay, TMI," He said, rolling his eyes. "But honestly go get some rest, lord knows you need it for seeing him tomorrow."

You were confused at first, then realized that tomorrow you had Tom for English, and you had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to face him when the night before he had you moaning 'daddy' and railed you into oblivion. But that was an issue you could deal with tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.

#🍇 -- thefaefiction!#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #teacher x reader #professor x reader #smut #tom hiddleston smut #plus size reader #tom hiddleston x plus size reader #professor!tom hiddleston #teacher!tom hiddleston #x reader smut

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channiesdelululand · 19 days

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Game Night

NSFW Lee Minho x Reader 2,951k words

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, unprotected sex, oral, cursing, overstimulation, competing screams with you best friend in another room (idk i this is a warning but just dont want anyone uncomfy)

Imagine hating your best friend's boyfriend's best friend... Or do you?

Best to pick your Chan bias friend!

______________________________________________________________

“YOU LIKE WHO?!”

Your best friend about drops the wine glass in her hand as you both are cleaning up in the kitchen after another successful game night. A pretty common occurrence at the Bahng residence. The two of you catching up on the week while Chris and his best friend in the other room talking about their next record release. You looked forward to this all week every week. The ONLY thing that could make it better is if the man you hated wasn’t Chris’s best friend and roomate.

“Jesus Christ bsf/n, lower you voice! Chris and Min are literally in the living room…”

“Sorry, sorry! But like babe I thought you hated Minho? Just yesterday you said you hoped he walked into a vat of gasoline and then tripped on a match.”

“I can’t stand him! But he just, everything! It’s infuriating why does he need to be so god damn sexy with everything?”

“Why do you even hate him again?”

Bsf/n asked as you started to walk out of the kitchen to go grab your phone you left on the coffee table.

You cant even remember honestly when it all started. Maybe it was the cocky way he carried himself? Always so cold to everyone not really even giving anyone an opportunity to see a different side of him. But it wasn’t just you, he hated you too. Always acting like a school boy pulling at the things he knew would get to you. But after today, you were just confused. The looks he kept throwing your way. You caught him staring multiple times. His eyes following every little thing you would did, every slight move you would make. Which lead you to the conversation confessing that you may have breathed in every moment of him staring a little too much. That maybe, just maybe you wanted more.

Getting so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t have time to react to the tall figure colliding into, drenching you both in leftover punch.

“Fuck Minho, Im so sorry!” You waited a few seconds to be called a dumb ass or some rude remark, but it never came. He set down the punch bowl he had been holding down on the table you left your phone at. And within seconds had your wrist in his hand leading you to his room.

“Come on you can change into one of my shirts.” Thats all you heard before the door opened and you found yourself where you had never been before. But here you were back pressed up against the door, Minho inches from your face with an expression you just couldn’t read.

“The shirt Min?” Trying to break what ever tension was happening.

“Oh I’ll get to that, don’t worry. But first tell my how much I infuriate you. Go ahead kitten, if you can talk shit about me to bsf/n you can do it to my face.” Leaning with one hand above your head and the free hand brushing the little bit of hair falling in front of your face softly behind your ear.

“I….”

Before you could even form a sentence his lips were already crashing into yours, pressing your whole body further against the door. Your hands holding his face in an instant pulling him closer into the kiss, if that was even possible. It was painfully obvious as your tongues danced together the craving you both had for each other had reached its breaking point.

“Can I?” Minho gestures to your button down blouse. You quickly nod in approval. As he starts to unbutton half way down he pauses and takes in every inch of what’s in front of him. Making a mental picture of the way the black lace popping out from your bra perfectly accents the curves of your breast.

“Minnnnnn” You very impatiently whine out as he takes his time lightly peppering your collarbone with kisses, trailing his way done as he finishes taking off your shirt completely.

“Oh y/n, kitten relax youll get what you want but im about to take my time with you. Tell you what though I'll share a little of what i have planned. After im done getting my hands and lips on every inch of this gorgeous body, im going to have you on your knees so I can see if those pretty lips are good for more then just talking shit, and then im going to fuck you into tomorrow. Sound like a plan?”

Before you could even think of a response you felt his hands quickly lifting you up under your thighs wrapping your legs around his torso pressing you up against him, feeling how painfully hard you had already made him. With you safely in his arms, your hands behind his head pulling him into kiss after passionate kiss he made his way with you over to his nicely made bed.

Slowly setting you down on your back, lips never leaving your body but instead trailing down your neck right in the creek that made you fold as he gave little bites, blowing on each fresh red mark he created. Little squeaks and whimpers leaving your mouth was like some kind of overwhelming drug to Minho. Like a song he wanted on repeat in his ears forever. Trailing down your body further licking, biting, marking every free spot available. But he needed to hear more. He needed to know just want kind of noises he could pull from you. Finding your waist band he began toying with the elastic while looking up at you with the deepest brown eyes. You couldnt tell what exactly you were seeing as part of him was filled with such a dark lust that washed over his appearance but somehow he also was looking at you so softly something youve never seen him do.

“You know ive really wanted this for so long y/n but I never thought i had the chance. I want to make this body of yours mine.”

“Please, need you Min.”

“You need what sweet girl? Come on use your words.” His hand still running along the areas of your waist, using the top of his hand to softly brush up against you feeling just how wet you already were through your thin leggings. Your hips moving and wiggling slightly trying to feel more. His face so close you could swear the pressure of even his breath was about to set you off.

“I need you, I need you to touch me” the most pathetic sounds starting to pour from your mouth as you start to beg this man you thought you hated to finally fuck you.

“Please fuck me, do what you want to me, i need to feel you in me minnie please.”

“What a good girl finally being honest with me for once. Lucky for you im a man of my word.”

With that he pulled down your leggings to reveal matching panties to your bra. You hear a harsh hiss come through Mins teeth.

“Fuck you wear these fuck for me?” Minho was really taking in everything just like he said because with every step he took you in like a painting. Memorizing every detail to its fullest before continuing.

“You are so fucking perfect y/n” taking his hands and harshly grabbing your thighs, he truly thought every part of you deserved attention. While his hands massaged up and down your thighs his head was situated in perfect view giving your inner thighs the same licking, biting, kisses he was to the rest of your body. Kissing so close to where you needed him most causing you to cry out for more. With a a smirk and a slight evil giggle he flicked the side of your black lace to the side very eager to get a taste of you. With the first swipe of his tongue he looked up at you with a low moan.

“My god you taste incredible kitten.”

Pulling your panties fully off he went back down licking and sucking every part of you, holding your hips down while you squirmed.

“Now sweet girl you were making such pretty noises earlier why are you covering your mouth now?” He noticed once he inserted 2 fingers while continuing to give your clit the full attention of his mouth.

“bsf/n and Chris are outside I dont want them to hear”

“Oh but kitten i want them to hear, i want them to hear exactly what we are doing in here. I want you to scream so loud the whole city knows who owns you tonight”

“Fuck yes please” you more confidently moan out.

“There we go, thats my girl. Plus i guarantee they are playing the same game so why dont we play a little game back, called whos louder. Its only fair since it is still game night. Now baby grind on my face i can feel how close you are lets win the first round”

Obeying his orders you tighten your grip in his hair and grind against his perfectly sculpted face. Everything was so overwhelmingly pleasurable, the pace of his fingers, the way they were curling repeatedly i to the perfect spot, him sucking and licking perfectly. It was all going straight to your head making you dizzy. You could feel your high coming and listening to him loudly enjoying himself was exactly what you need to push you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your legs tightening around him, your body broke through your high. But that didnt stop Minhos pace.

“Min, its too much, i cant. Please”

You couldnt tell what you were feeling but you felt like your body was about to snap. He didnt respond to your pleas with any words just a low growl between breathes. You felt a new high climbing but a different high. Something yould never before this and as your cried out his name for the second time in less then a minute you felt everything below you became soaked.

“God, fuck that was so perfect kitten.” Minho raising his dripping face up with the most shit eating grin. He threw in a few licks to cause your body to twitch at the over sensitivity.

“I dont know what just happened but im so sor..”

You were immediately cut off with him on top of you mouth back on yours.

“Sorry? Oh god for what? That was so fucking sexy i need that from you over and over again. I want to taste you like that every night. Fuck i need you even more. Did it feel good?” He was looking so deeply in your eyes.

“It felt incredible, ive never felt that good. Can i have more please. I want to feel you in me. Need to feel you in me now.” You beg as he removes his shirt still hovering over you giving your hands free roam all over his body. Every part of him is so stunningly perfect. How have you had the strength to go on this long not getting to touch every inch of him.

Using your nails a little to graze over his skin, watching goosebumps appear along his strong arms currently one on either side of your body holding himself up. Watching your movements, the look in your eyes silently begging for more. You reach down to begin unbuttoning his pants and he helps you by removing them fully letting himself bounce up against his lower stomach. Your hand reaching immediately to grab him, smearing his precum over the beautiful caramel tip. A little groan falling from his lips. And a shiver through his body finally feeling your touch. He had thought about it for so long, after a long day late at night. Alone in room with his thoughts. Thoughts about you, touching him, playing with him, how your mouth would feel around him, how good yould feel taking all of him thrust after thrust. Knowing this was finally happening was enough to make this once stern strong man to melt into a puddle. He was quickly taken out of his thoughts as you pushed him forward and switching him to the bed so you could bend down in front of him.

Now on your knees you take a moment to look up at the god like man in front of you. Perfectly chiseled body, and holding him so beautifully in your hand… it was enough to bring out a few pathetic whimpers from you. You were waiting to hear some type of overly cocky bullshit come from his lips but all that you heard were small moans as you rubbed your hand up and down slowly. It was a dangerously gorgeous sight.

Taking your tongue in replacement of my hand going up along the middle, bottom to glorious tip top. Taking in the feeling of every vein before circling around his tip and back down again. Stopping every few cms to give small kisses.

Starting to see impatience grow on the man groaning before you, you decide to give in and fully take him into your mouth swirling your tongue around and sucking when needed. He felt so fucking good as he slid towards the back of your throat, starting to buck his hips needing fuck your throat deeper.

“God fuck 자기야” groaning in between words louder and louder as he takes a fist full of your hair pushing your head as far as yould go.

“You are so fucking pretty like this. So fucking perfect. My perfect toy.” Drool dripping everywhere, running down your chin as let out the most pathetic noises. This was a vision of heaven for Min.

In between the sounds your mouth was making and Mins delicious moaning you could hear your friends in the other room playing the exact same game. The echoing of it all was making you dizzy. You need this man deep inside you now.

“Please Min, please fuck me”

Looking up at him with begging eyes, pleading for him to finally take you.

“Sweet girl i thought yould never ask.” His strong arms picking you up from the floor bringing you back to laying on the bed, him hovering over you. Something so animalistic about the look in his eyes while he brought his face closer to your so he could kiss you. More passionately then youve ever been kissed, his hands exploring every inch of you. Wanted to simply devour you in every way he can. While kissing and sucking at your neck he was perfect aligned to rub himself up and down your folds. Teasing you, causing you to gasp everytime he was close enough to enter. Little hip movements trying to get him inside you.

“My impatient little bunny” he let out a giggle as he slowly sank into you. With a slow pace back and forth, kissing at your face, and leaning into your ear.

“You are truly so beautiful. Absolutely made for me. I need you.”

You giggled as his statement.

“You feel so good, you have me right now”

“No, no y/n i need YOU. I need all of you. I need this every night. I need to wake up to you every morning. I need YOU.”

Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper inside he rushed his pace.

“You can have me, i want you. Please take me and make me yours Minho.”

Nails digging into his back as he abused the perfect spot. You felt your body close to snapping at the incredible rush of feeling.

Loudly sputtering out syllables of his name.

“Yes come on tell me whos making you feel this good, scream for me.”

Your moans were pathetic loud but so were your friends. It was like a match between you and bfs/n to see whose man was making the other feel better. It was clear both men had the same idea on how tonights game night was going to go.

“I told you they would play too”

“Fuck Min, i cant take it please”

“Cant take what pretty girl? Come on tell me what you want. Tell our friends what you want. Go on scream for me.”

“Please i want to cum, i want to cum for you.” Moaning in a way you dont think youve ever moaned for anyone. Feeling your mind slip away into a state of pure bliss.

“Yes!” The only word coming out of your mouth over and over and over again. Holding on as long as you could because it felt so good.

“Go ahead 자기야 i want you to make another mess”

Min wanted it to continue but with as good as you felt clenching around him he knew he needed to let go with you right then.

As wave after wave rushed over you Minho grabbed your hand in his as he let his orgasm go with yours both bodys twitching while the most beautiful melody of moans from the both of you came together.

He stayed hovered above you for a bit his head in the crock of your neck. You could feel the smile on his face. Bringing his face up to yours giving him a gentle kiss on the nose.

“That was perfect Minho”

“No you're perfect y/n.”

The gentle kisses continuing into something more passionate. You could feel Min on your thigh harding all over again.

“It doesnt sound like bsf/n and Chris are quite done. And by the feel of it I dont think your done either I might have a little left in me.” Letting out an innocent giggle.

“Fuck it ill go all night with you.”

#smut #skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #straykids #bang chan smut #minho smut #lee know smut #enemy to lovers

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astrxq · 1 year

Text

Cosmic feelings

ethan landry x fem!reader

words: 3.2k

notes: idk if i like this 😭 not proofread so there might be some mistakes <3

Here's the corrected version of the text with grammar, punctuation, and vocabulary improvements:

There was no one in the world as oblivious as Ethan Landry when it came to girls. Seeing his roommate Chad get flooded with girls crushing on him really made him question whether he should step out of his shell or rather stay in it to save himself from the embarrassment of rejection. He was an attractive guy, at least that's what Chad kept reminding him, but he was such a mess when he had to strike up a conversation.

He'd tried once with you, the girl sitting next to him in economics, but you were so pretty to him that he ended up blabbering out that he needed to borrow a pen, when his purpose was to ask how your day had been. You were sweet, though; you offered him a small smile and the pen even though he had one sitting right next to his notebook. You didn't question it.

He tried not to overthink the small interaction, but he felt like some kind of force from the universe hated him because ever since that day, he'd been seeing you everywhere. Talking to his roommate, outside of campus, at the movies, the park—everywhere he went, he seemed to bump into you. You'd usually offer him a smile and a small wave, and he'd return it, trying to avoid Chad seeing him, because he knew he'd get made fun of if he was caught blushing because of a simple wave.

You had tried to make it obvious that you wanted to talk to him. It seemed odd how a boy so gorgeous could be looked past by so many people. He'd caught your eye the moment he sat next to you. He didn't even look your way at first, but as the teacher explained, you could feel him glance. It was adorable how he'd scratch the back of his head when he was solving a problem on his impressively neat notebook or when he bit his nails awaiting the teacher to notice he was having trouble with something he'd just explained.

Ethan wasn't dumb; everyone knew he was one of the few who understood economics. So when you reached out to the professor about needing tutoring, his name was quickly brought up. "Mr. Landry could help; you'd have to ask him, but I assume that will not be an issue as you already sit together in my classes."

Well, that wasn't as easy as the professor had made it sound. Four months into the year and only one conversation was had where he looked like he so badly wanted to stand up and run out before you even handed the pen to him. He was a fast walker, you realized, catching up to him as he made his way out of the building while keeping his head down looking at his phone and his free hand holding onto a strap of his backpack. "Ethan!" you called.

Once he heard his name from such an unfamiliar voice, he turned around, his backpack colliding with your cheek as he faced you. "Shit! I'm so sorry; I didn't see you. Are you okay?" he rambled, his cheeks going into a deep shade of red as he examined your face with a panicked look while you rubbed at your cheek. "I'm okay, I'm okay."

"Mr. Thompson told me to ask you for help in economics; I'm not really getting the hang of it."

His mouth twitched, and you weren't sure if it meant that he almost smiled or that he was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of tutoring. "You don't have to, of course. But since we sit together in class already…" He kept quiet, staring.

"Okay, I take that as a no. I'll ask someone else then. Thank you anyway," you smiled sweetly at him as you made a move to turn back, but his hand stopped you by grabbing your wrist and turning you around gently. "Sorry—yes. Yes, I'll tutor you." The blush on his cheeks had gone away a little, and the few freckles on his face stood out as you beamed at him with a grin. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

He took your excitement as a huge step in his 'try to get closer to Y/N' plan that, well, wasn't really his plan; it was his roommate's. "When's the best for you?" he asked. You shrugged and fixed the strap of the bag that had slipped off of your shoulder. "I'm free most of the time, so whenever works for you is great."

He took a moment before nodding and checking his phone and looking back up to you. "Well, Chad isn't in our dorm; if you want to come by now, I could explain today's lesson, and we can get to the rest once I sort out my notes," Ethan offered, surprised at himself for inviting a girl to be alone with him in his own dorm room.

You found his nervousness endearing. On the way to the dorms, he'd kept glancing down at you as if he were making sure you were still there, and his hands were a little shaky as he tried to get his keys from his jean pockets. "It's a bit messy, I'm sorry," he looked embarrassed and he moved a few sweaters from his desk chair to the mattress. "You can sit here; do you want something to drink?" The boy pointed at the small fridge that sat across the room, and you shook your head before sitting where he'd just signaled.

Eventually, Chad came back into the dorm, and after a few teasing looks from him to Ethan, you took that as your cue to leave. "Thanks for explaining it to me, Ethan," you made a move to stand up, and he mirrored you, standing at the same time. "You're leaving?"

"Well… I assumed we were done," you pointed at his now closed notebook, and he nodded twice before meeting your eyes. "Yes. Yeah—that's everything that was explained today." He had gone back to the nervous, shaky self he had been at the start of the afternoon, and you couldn't help but wonder why his demeanor had changed so quickly. He'd eased up during the tutoring, and he seemed far more comfortable by then.

"Do you need me to walk you? It's kind of late," he suggested, and even though you'd wished for nothing else but to spend more time with him, you shook your head with a smile. "I'll be okay; thanks for today, though. I owe you." Ethan seemed to shy away as he offered a smile and reached his hand up as if he were to wave but stopped. "I'll let you know when I have my notes sorted so we can do this again."

He widened his eyes a bit at his own words and quickly covered, "-if you want." Looking up at him sweetly, you nodded and made your way out of the dorm room with a grin plastered on your face. Who knew he could be so adorable?

Weeks went by, and Ethan had gotten more and more comfortable around you. He'd look for you in hallways and even came up to you when you were with your friends or he was with his. His roommate, Chad, had stopped not being around during your tutoring lessons so you couldn't really get there yet. Chad was nice, but his presence kept stopping you from attempting to make a move, and it seemed like it was stopping Ethan as well.

After what seemed like years,

Chad was busy, and you were finally left alone with Ethan. Even if it was for tutoring, he seemed nervous when he opened the door at your text, his face flushed a bright shade of red and a beaming look on his face. There were at least three shirts of Ethan's laying on Chad's bed as if he'd changed a few times before deciding on the shirt he was wearing at that moment. "Hey."

"Hi, sorry if this was too sudden. Chad just left, and I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with it being just us two," he cleared his throat as you rolled your eyes at his obvious overthinking and walked yourself in to sit on his bed, legs crossed one over the other. "Well, I like it being just you and me." Ethan could feel his ears burn at your comment, and he tried to look put together as he sat in front of you, his notebook on his lap.

"Are you going to the Halloween party this weekend?" you asked before he could get started with economics. "Uh… I think so, yeah." You smiled, and he suddenly felt way more at ease knowing that you wanted him to go. "What will you be dressed as?"

"I don't know yet. Chad said something about wanting to be a cowboy, but I hate most costumes I've seen in shops," he shrugged, biting his lip anxiously as he pretended to read his handwriting to hide his nerves. "I was thinking of going as Anakin," you chirped.

His eyes shot up to look at you, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Skywalker?" You made a face. "Duh! He's so cool, and it's so easy to find costumes of him since no one else is going to wear them because—let's be honest—they're scared of looking geeky. But that's the fun of Halloween." Ethan felt like all those negative thoughts had left his head the moment you mentioned what seemed to be your nerdy secret. "Chad said I should do a knight but suggested I craft it since it's last minute."

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, reaching to hold onto his hands as he gripped the notebook. "I could help you; you'd look so cute as a knight." He was going to throw up, surely; his stomach felt like it had flipped over at the thought of you wanting to spend time with him outside of tutoring, and even though you'd gotten a lot closer, he didn't feel like you guys had gotten to the hanging out point.

"Would you?" he asked, his eyes lit up. "Of course! Put that away; we'll start right now!" Just as you finished your sentence, Ethan stood excited and reached into his closet to pull out a big piece of cardboard. "I suck at this; I sure hope you have some hidden artsy talent."

You proudly held up the pencil and let your silence answer his own question as he read instructions he'd found on the internet for you to follow. If he was asked, he'd say he helped, but truly all he did was 'sit back and look pretty' as you'd told him to do while you did the work after he accidentally messed up painting the helmet and freaked out.

Once finished, you begged for him to try it on. "Come on! Just to see if it fits." He hid his face in his hands, groaning. "Oh my god, Y/N. This is embarrassing." He let you fit the boxy costume around him, and you put the cardboard helmet on his head before knocking on it with a proud look on your face. "See? Talent."

"Can I take it off now?" Ethan felt like his cheeks were going to explode as you stared at him with a grin, and he struggled to pull off the costume. "Will you go with Chad? Or do you want me to come get you?" He looked at you like he'd just seen a ghost. "Get me?"

"Like—pick you up." He mouthed an 'oh' and shrugged. "I think Chad will want to go together." He moved the notebook to his desk and stared at it for a few seconds, as if thinking when to actually tutor you.

"Great. I'll see you there, then." Before he could answer, you reached up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek and softly smack it before turning back and, with a quiet 'bye,' closing the door behind you, leaving Ethan dumbfounded and with a tingly feeling on his chest.

"Couldn't you add Velcro on this or something?" Chad complained for the fifth time as he attempted to help Ethan put on the costume. "I didn't think putting it on by myself would be so hard," he admitted, and Chad smirked.

"Who put it on you when you tried it on?"

"No one, just—help me." Chad pretended to believe that Ethan had managed to make the costume himself, and once they'd finally put it on, they made their way to the party.

Ethan wasn't a party guy, so standing by the door the whole time was his plan for the night, but his roommate refused to let him bore himself to death. As Ethan mimicked Chad's dancing in an attempt to 'just feel the music,' as he'd quoted, you and your friend walked in, bumping into him. "Sorry."

At his apology, you smiled softly and reached to fix his helmet. "Mighty knight," you greeted, moving the cape to the side to show him the plastic lightsaber you'd stolen from one of your friends. "Anakin," he mirrored.

"I'm leaving or I'll vomit," Chad fake gagged while he walked away, waving the two of you off as your friend took her cue to also go. "Did you just get here?" you asked, and the boy shook his head. "Like half an hour ago." He looked horrified at the scenery of the party, hearing a fight break out in the kitchen between two guys who wanted the same drink. "Wanna go on a walk or something?"

You took him leaving his water-filled cup on one of the tables as a yes, so when he came back to where you stood, you didn't hesitate to hold his hand and pull him through the door. "Parties aren't my thing," he said. "What is your thing?"

"Sleeping?"

"Fair enough, mine's napping."

"What? So… sleeping?" he stopped his tracks once he saw a bench near the house party, he watched you sit down and looked down at his chest in confusion. "No way! Naps are so much better than a night's sleep." He tilted his head in amusement as you rambled. "Or… you could just wait until it's bedtime."

"You just haven't tried to nap. It's the best thing ever. You're missing out, Ethan. You know I hate my friends missing out on fun stuff," he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't call napping fun."

"Well—maybe sleeping isn't your thing."

"Maybe it isn't."

You both fell quiet, and Ethan counted to five before trying to get the chest piece off, but he failed. "How'd you even manage to get this on me?" he asked, lifting his arms a bit so you could help him. "Ethan, there's some Velcro here," you pointed to the side of his torso,

and he suddenly felt a little dumb, which he was sure was a feeling he would share with Chad, who could also not find the Velcro. "Oh."

You laughed, feeling him stare down at you as you helped him anyway. Finally being able to sit down, he reached for your forearm and softly tugged you to sit next to him. "I love it, besides how uncomfortable it is to sit with." He'd kept the helmet on, and you reached to take it off and fix his hair, which had gotten messier because of the costume. "Beauty is pain," you sighed, dramatically ruffling his hair in an attempt to fix it back to how it usually was.

"You don't seem to be in pain," he said, quickly covering his eyes. "Fuck—that was so bad; pretend I never said that—oh god." You broke into a fit of laughter at his shitty line and the immediate regret. "I'm sorry," he mumbled more to himself than to you as he rested his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair. "It was sweet," you held back a laugh.

"Don't lie."

"Okay. That was horrible, Ethan. Is that how you pick up girls?" he could sense your smile through your voice, and he exaggerated a sigh as he sat back, arm spread on the bench's backrest, near your shoulders. "No, I usually let them craft me a Halloween costume."

"Eh, look at you! Are you drunk? You're flirty tonight."

"I did a shot with Chad but spit it out immediately. Does that count?" he made a face at the reminder of the taste, and you couldn't help but admire the way his face scrunched up so incredibly adorable. "Sure, it does."

"If you'd told me you wanted to go as Anakin earlier, I would've gone for Obi Wan," he admitted, reaching to play with the hem of your cloak. "Maybe next time," you shrug. "You'd repeat a costume?" he fake gasped, moving his hand up to his chest; you mirrored him. "If we're going to dress up together, I will." Ethan put his hand out for you to shake, and you happily took it. Neither of you wanted to let go, so you let the linked hands fall onto your lap.

"To be fair, the lightsaber isn't even mine, and I think I broke it," he broke out a laugh and covered his mouth at your glare. "It fell."

"Sure, sure," he waved you off with his free hand, and you wondered if he was thinking about your held hands as much as you were. "Ethan," you said, tightening your hold. "Yes?"

How does one tell a guy they want to kiss him?

Taking a slow breath in, you asked, "We've known each other for a while, haven't we?" Ethan looked taken aback by your question, thinking for a few seconds. "Uh… yes."

"Are you ever going to kiss me?"

Ethan was so grateful for the dimmed street lights because if you were to see the shade of his face and neck at that moment, you'd think he was having a stroke. "Yeah, yes. Yes, I will," he managed out.

You hummed, moving in closer to him, practically leaning in. He took a few seconds to process this, but once he let himself take over, he leaned closer and closer until he could clasp his hand on your cheek, pulling you in to kiss you. Your hands moved up to his chest, feeling his heart speed as fast as yours, and one of your hands tangled in his previously messy hair while he took ahold of the back of your neck.

Pulling back for air, Ethan panted out a smile so close to your mouth that you could feel it form on your own lips. "Maybe kissing is your thing."

He hummed, leaning in to press a short kiss onto your lips again. "Maybe."

#mine #jack champion x reader #jack champion #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream vi #scream movie #ethan landry oneshot #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin

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lollytea · 1 year

Note

Please, your finale Huntlow thoughts, my liege. We poor peasants beg of you, our bowls are empty and your tables full; if we might have but a crumb of your succulent meal to fill our bellies in these cold December nights.

ASGCDHBDJNK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OKAY

I got a few asks about this but I guess I'll answer this one cuz it's phrased the funniest. I just wasn't too pressed about giving my Thoughts about finale Huntlow because I am fully a part of the Huntlow hivemind. Like I feel the way everyone else feels. I'm ecstatic, I'm delighted, I'm overwhelmed, I'm emotional, I'm so happy for them, I got everything I could have wanted. I won. We won.

(I HAVE TOO MANY PICS. I'LL RB WITH PART 2)

First of all this scene is so special to me, you have no idea.

It isn't inherently romantic but it's still so sweet and shows how much these two care for each other. Here's Willow, who's spent the last special Atlasing and repressing and refusing to rely on anyone else. But then she had her breakdown in front of Hunter and he realized just how stressed and scared she's been this whole time. She's visibly anxious and upset here, likely worrying up a storm because she hasn't found her Dads yet. And Hunter is right here beside her. He's seen her meltdown, he's felt her pain, he's heard her cry. He knows that Willow is in a fragile state at the moment. He knows she's been holding in a lot. He knows she's scared. I love that he's not only standing by her side and helping her search, but holding her too. It could be that she vocally expressed how worried she was to him, or maybe he just saw it on her face, but he probably placed that hand on her back to comfort her, let her knows he's right here, grounding her. And Willow, who's still learning how to depend on others, is letting him.

The way Hunter lights up when he sees Harvey and Gilbert, thrilled by how happy he knows she's going to be and his soft smile when he points them out to her. And then THIS!

Like Hunter is devastated. He feels alone and out of place here. He really thinks he has nobody. But Willow being happy can still bring a smile to his face. He just loves her so much!!!

And I know I already talked about the grom photo but UGHH!!!

I got a pic in better definition. I'm pretty sure this is Hunter's first grom. So likely a few months after the events of WAD. And it's so cute to think about Hunter and Willow very awkwardly but eagerly navigating a romantic relationship. I love how grabby and flirty Willow looks here, messing with his bowtie. She clearly LOVES the floral suit, thinking he's like the hottest man alive. She needs to smooch him and NOW. Or she's just like "Oh my, what a nice collarbone you have!!" Idk the ambiguity of what exactly Willow is doing here but the vibe and general intentions being very obvious is my favourite part of this pic. You can speculate for years on this. Oh and Hunter's face, I love it so much. His dumb little blush is like an old friend. He's fucking THRILLED that he's getting so much attention from her. He's very excited about where this is going. But he's also like. So nervous he's gonna pass out. But overall he's having the time of his life. Bi rights!

Also epilogue Huntlow....guys....guys epilogue Huntlow....are you guys still listening to me at this point?

God I love this scene. Its so natural and smooth, giving the characters a chance to breathe and exist and providing a glimpse of how they go about their daily lives. It's soft and lighthearted but it establishes so much about where Willow and Hunter are currently at in their relationship. They've been dating for like....3 years at the very least. And they're clearly very happy together!!

The way Willow casually slides on to the scene, giving the impression that she's often dropped in on him while he's working. And why wouldn't she? That's her sweetheart. What if she requires emergency smooches? What then? And of course, there's Hunter beaming at the sight of her. Seems he never gets tired of his girlfriend stopping by to visit. Or maybe he's sick to death of Willow the menace showing up to distract him while he's trying to work and he's just excited about the prospect of Luz's party. Either way, it's an adorable expression.

Something else I love about epilogue Huntlow is how equally distributed the affection is between both of them. Back when FTF dropped I gushed about how sweet it was to see Hunter taking initiative with Willow and the significance of something as simple pressing his backhand against hers during the pinky hold. And God, this sequence here says it all. From what I can tell, as Hunter runs towards her, they both reached out at the same time and linked hands immediately, implying that holding hands has become the automatic gesture for them whenever they meet up. They're in love, you're honor.

I love the huge carefree grins as they skate down the hill (still holding hands). They might have grown a lot since we last saw them but they're still young adults, they still love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff. And even better, they love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff together. All the handholding and fluffy cuteness is wonderful but I also love knowing that they seem to genuinely enjoy just hanging out and spending their youth with each other. Zeno was right, they ARE besties. Who knows how much shit Hunter and Willow get up to together? Being a pair of thrill seeking athletes, it's probably a lot.

This part is just so silly and ridiculous. After they go stumbling, Willow's first instinct is to grab Hunter and hold on for dear life. Her intense scrunched up expression is just so funny. "I will protect you, my love. No big dumb hill is going to harm a hair on your pretty head. Your girl is here." And Hunter barely acknowledging it (it probably happens a lot) because his life is currently flashing before his eyes. GOD they're just such nerds.

Oh and this frame is just SO adorable. The way Willow's hold on him lingers for a moment before he walks towards the grave, Hunter's heart eyes. They're clearly still so soft and touchy with each other. And this is after three years. I know they were insufferable when they started dating as teens.

#toh spoilers #huntlow

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mochidolls · 20 days

Note

I HAVE ANOTHER idea… grins super wide.. (could also possibly be a prologue to the mom ellie rq I Sent a few days back) but but yk how Jackson has a daycare right.. and and.. ellie meeting reader there for.. idk maybe she signed up too late for patrols so she had to take on some other duty!! And she needs reader at the daycare and at first she’s so annoyed cuz she’d much rather do patrol but seeing u be so nice and motherly makes her time there a bit less annoying n after a while she starts to genuinely enjoy spending time with reader there n having fun with Al the kids and makes jokes abt u n her having ur own kids one day (little does she know that h did) DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE. This is so long Ivy I’m sorry. Tldr ellie and reader meeting at Jackson daycare! I just think that’s so adorable

n : i’m so sorry this took so long ml but this prompt is so cute and i am eternally grateful for u for it!!<33

please read (important!!) / please read! / how you can help palestine

ellie tried to stifle the sigh that was bubbling up within her chest, ready to escape. the scene before her was almost guaranteed to give her a headache in the next few moments. the garishly bright rainbow-coloured walls, the unnecessarily loud squeals, and the chatter of sticky, snotty-nosed toddlers running amok—oh, and there we go, one just bumped into her.

“sorry,” the little girl apologised with a timid smile, revealing a gap between her teeth. ellie’s lips twitched—just smile, be nice. be. nice. like she promised. this should be a breeze. she almost managed an "it’s okay" before noticing the girl sniffle, dragging her hand over her snotty nose, leaving a trail of mucus on her hand as she walked away.

in that very moment, ellie knew she would never have kids.

she’d have to keep that thought to herself, though. she couldn’t voice her opinions and risk making a group of kids cry, followed by you giving her that disapproving look. god, she hated that look. c

all her a bit of a sap, but she’d rather face a pack of wolves than see you look at her like that.

ellie’s thoughts paused as she heard the melody of your voice, gently calling the children’s attention. your voice, so sweet and soft, captivated them, drawing them close and silencing their chatter. it never ceased to amaze ellie how you did it.

but it wasn’t as if your voice hadn’t had the same effect on her—making her stumble over her words and her stomach do somersaults like a nervous schoolgirl. embarrassing, really.

the room grew quiet as the children listened to your instructions for a colouring activity. how fun! you handed each of them paper and coloured pencils, and once they were settled, you noticed ellie leaning against the doorframe, a sight you’d grown quite familiar with since she started helping out at the daycare. not that she helped much, but having her around kept you sane.

you waved at her with your sweet smile, and she waved back, trying hard not to crumble under that smile. it got even harder when you approached her, the rose and vanilla perfume you wore (not that she noticed or anything) making her knees weak. get it together, ellie.

“hi,” you spoke softly, a gentle smile gracing your lips. god, kill her now.

“hey,” ellie replied, trying to act nonchalant, though she was struggling.

“you’re not joining in?” you teased, playfully nudging her arm.

“do i look six?” ellie huffed, meeting your gaze as a cheeky grin spread across your face.

“don’t answer that, it was rhetorical,” ellie quickly added before a chuckle escaped your lips.

“oof, looks like one of them got to you,” you pointed at the smear of snot on her jeans.

“oh, fuck me,” ellie muttered with an exasperated sigh, earning a playful punch to her arm. she looked at you with a ‘what was that for?’ expression.

“what happened to the no swearing rule?”

“that rule is dumb.” ellie grumbled in response, rubbing her arm where you’d punched her.

“i truly wonder how you’ll cope when you have your own kids.” you crossed your arms, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“one, don’t wish that on me, and two, our kids would be well-behaved, not snotty brats running around.” ellie grumbled, then stopped herself, realising what she’d just said. our kids? really? way to make it obvious, williams.

“i meant… my, uh, my kids! not ours. not that there’s anything wrong with you! i just—” ellie stumbled over her words, a pink blush creeping up her cheeks as another chuckle escaped your lips.

“something you want to tell me, williams?” you asked with a smile. before she could respond, a little boy ran up to you, patting your leg eagerly. “look! look!”

“hm? let’s see your drawing, mason.” you crouched down to his height, looking at the colourful stick figures he’d drawn. “this one is me,” the little boy pointed at one figure kicking a ball. “this one is you, and this one is ellie.” at the mention of her name, ellie snapped her attention back to the drawing.

“why does ellie look so grumpy, mase?” you asked with a small smile, pointing at the stick figure with a comically grumpy expression.

“ellie’s always grumpy!” the boy chirped, meeting her gaze.

“i’m not always grumpy,” ellie scoffed, looking away.

“yes, you are!”

“i’m not.”

“are too!”

“am not.”

“are.too.”

“am.not.”

“all right, that’s enough. mase, you can go back to colouring, okay?” you gently patted the boy’s back before ruffling his hair.

“okay!” mason nodded with a smile and ran off.

you turned back to ellie, still smiling. “we’re arguing with kids now?”

“he started it. and look how you handled that. natural. see? our kids will be fine.” ellie emphasised ‘our’ to tease you.

“uou’re already thinking about our future kids?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, playing along. the two of you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having a family together one day. spoiler alert: you did.

“is that a problem?” ellie retorted, raising an eyebrow, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other.

“we’ll talk later.”

#🎀#ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie fluff #ellie the last of us

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localemofreak · 2 months

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Honeymoon In Vegas.

(Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

(A/n: there’s no music to this, just a little blurb I thought of because- idk, it sounded rad and dumb and sexy in my head.. anywayyyysss- enjoy. Also I’m sorry if it’s super short- I wasn’t really trying to think of anything for this- 😭)

—————————————

Story: it’s just a little- I mean very tiny dorky blurb of a part of your little honeymoon with Eddie in the city of Viva Las Vegas, Nevada.

‼️WARNINGS‼️: use of y/n, heavy mention of smut, sexual references, some fluff, reader and Eddie are in their honeymoon phase, mentions of nudity, Eddie acting like a horny dork, it’s giving black cat reader and golden retriever Eddie, not that much going on since I’m lazy but thought of this, etc. (if I forgot something, please tell me!!)

—————————————

It had been about three days since you and Eddie decided to officially tie the knot in Vegas while on a little break during his tour..

And it had also been about three days of you and him being trapped in the fancy hotel suite- that was now completely trashed, that you had been spending your little honeymoon weekend in.

All you two have been doing for the past three days has just been having sex, not even really taking a break to try and go out and do things.

You have been just completely cooped up with Eddie- who’s little horny lovemaking machine didn’t seem to be breaking down anytime soon.

It’s not like you had a true problem against him wanting to fuck nonstop- it’s not like he was bad at all, in fact he was quite the opposite.

It’s just after a few days of nonstop love making, you needed a moment to just take a break- do something else besides lay in that bed with your legs feeling completely numb.

Currently, you had decided to get up from the bed where Eddie was laying down next to you slightly sprawled out, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving up and down after round- whatever you guys were on, you honestly stop keeping track at this point.

You were starting to feel hungry, so you decided to get up finally to grab some breakfast.

Your legs honestly just felt like complete jelly at that moment, and you looked like a complete mess- runny makeup, hair everywhere, hickies that littered the skin of your neck.

You honestly looked completely spent- and at that moment, you felt like it to be honest.

As Eddie laid there collecting himself, you had decided to slowly and carefully try to bring yourself to stand up.

Your legs wobbled a little bit but you managed to keep yourself from falling- and the room spun a little as you tried to get the blood to rush through your legs a little since it had been a second since you actually stood up.

As you glanced around, you noticed how trashed the bedroom of the suite was.

There was empty bottles of alcohol and condom wrappers everywhere- also don’t forget the clothes and just overall trash scattered all over.

You could hear Eddie mumbling a little bit as he laid on the messy looking mattress- which you decided to ignore as you grabbed a robe to wrap around your naked body.

As soon as you got yourself somewhat covered, you decided to slowly shuffle out of the little room and into the living room of the suite- that was also connected to the kitchen.

As you slowly shuffled your way into the living room- you noticed how even more trashy it looked.

It was a complete mess- just beer bottles, wine bottles, vodka bottles, all empty and scattered around the place.

Things were thrown around, couch cushions were on the ground and there was trash everywhere.

You knew before you two had left you both would have a big job on picking this shit up so that you wouldn’t get in trouble for basically destroying the room.

After standing there for a moment, assessing the damage with what your tired eyes could see- you soon shuffled your way over to the kitchen to sit down.

A tired sigh escaped from your lips as you sat down, your hands moving to run over your face as you leaned against your elbows on the table- just trying to get yourself all together.

After sitting there for a moment, just trying to collect your thoughts and relax- you soon heard the sound of feet shuffling against the floor mixed with a tired groan.

Eddie had gotten up obviously, seeing you had gotten up- that automatically meant he had to follow you.

You picked your head up from your hands as you glanced over with tired eyes, seeing Eddie wrapped in nothing but a robe.

His hair was messy and slightly all over the place, and his bangs were slightly stuck to his forehead as he scratched at his head while a yawn escaped from his mouth.

“I see you’re up-” you mumbled out, causing Eddie to nod his head and give a little tired but cheeky smirk while he made his way over to you.

“How’s my sexy little wifeee~” he hummed out with a slight chuckle, his body leaning forward to press his head into the crook of your neck.

As you felt his lips kissing at your neck, you just let out a tired sigh and shook your head, your hands pushing at his half covered tattooed chest since he didn’t really tie the robe around his body fully- it kind of just hung to his body.

“Eddie- please, let’s just take a break for a moment.. I want breakfast-” you got out while Eddie pulled his head out of the crook of your neck, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he just hummed in response.

“Alright, alright- fine, what do you want?” He said, his hands moving to fix the robe he was wearing a little bit but it still wasn’t covering much.

“I just want food- I don’t care what it is..” you muttered out, obviously just hungry as you gave him a little pout- which he couldn’t help but find adorable.

“Hm, I think sausage sounds nice don’t yah sweetie?” He hummed out, the smirk on his face getting wider as he just decided to be an ass and place his semi hard dick down on the table in front of you.

You could hear the small snicker fall from his lips which caused you to roll your eyes as you tried your best to hide the grin trying to appear on your face.

“Eddie- come onnn..” you whined out, which caused him to quickly put his dick back into his robe as he put his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay- fine, seriously- nowwww what to do you want??” He questioned, this time actually being genuine as he crossed his arms lightly over his chest while leaning back against the counter of the kitchen.

You just sat there for a moment, your eyes glancing to look up at him as he stood there.

You couldn’t help but admire him- even though he looked like a mess right now, he still looked absolutely beautiful.

“…sausage actually does sound nice- the actual thing though..” you mumbled out, which caused Eddie to crack a dumb little smirk.

“Whatever you want my love~” he hummed out while standing up from leaning back against the counter, which caused you to crack a wide grin up at him as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you Eddie-” you said, looking up at him as he smirked down at you before making his way towards the stove to make you breakfast.

“I love you more y/n, my beautiful wife..” he hummed out while your eyes stayed on him- the wide grin on your face as you just admired him.

—————————————

(A/n: I’m so sorry if this is short- I just felt like making the tiniest little shit blurb and I made it- also sorry if it’s kinda bad, I’m just very lazy and kinda out of it, but I also hope you liked it 😭)

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princessbrunette · 5 months

Note

i love ur works so so much <3, you’ve inspired me to watch outerbanks and be obsessed with rafe!! i had this specific image in my head of reader craving a little tap on the cheek by rafe and acts out for it. he eventually figures out why and lightly scolds reader for it but gives in because he can never say no to us <3 mwah

- 🐏

that’s so sweet thank u sm omg !!!!

and ugh i love this idea ! just sometimes when you’re having an off day you feel super unfocused n sometimes you just need rafe to smack you a little to make you feel looked after ??? idk it makes sense to me !!

♡‧₊˚✧[🎼]✧˚₊‧♡

just standing infront of him literally throwing a fit because you’re upset that he doesn’t understand what you want, pulling at his shirt and lightly smacking him trying to get a reaction out of him.

“c’mon rafe! ugh you’re just —!” you huff, tears in your eyes as you smack at his arm again, the man stood before you staring at you incredulously. he’s not even in a bad mood for this to irritate him the way it might another time — and he has no idea truly what brought this on.

“what are you — hey, you gonna use those big girl words n’fuckin’ talk or what?” he manages to hold you still and you catch your breath, staring up at him poutily.

“you need to know! i don’t wanna have to tell you!” you whine incoherently, twisting in his hold before he adjusts his grip, manhandling you to stay still a little rougher. the act makes you melt a little in his hands, a hopeful gaze flickering across your face.

“you need me to tell you?” he asks, slowly seeming to catch on to the kind of mood you’re in.

“i need you to hit me!” you cry out when telling just isn’t enough. the room falls quiet as he stares at you, lips parted in surprised. you pant, sniffling and he sighs, letting go of you to run a hand over his face. sometimes he wonders what he’s done to this poor innocent girl he swept up, incredibly aware of the fact he’s conditioned you into craving that firm hand from him because he gave it to you involuntarily 99% of the time, especially as plenty of affection always followed. he figured that’s what you really needed on a day like this — but you’re so wound up nothings gonna convince you otherwise ‘til you get what you want.

“alright. okay— hey, stop whining. go sit on the floor infront of my chair, alright?” he turns you by the shoulder and aims you toward the living room where the arm chair he usually sat in awaited. he pats your ass as he sends you off and he stands alone for a moment, thinking over his actions that may have gotten you to this point— slightly disturbed by your wishes, whilst regretfully aroused.

he enters a moment later to see you eagerly knelt by the chair, so happy to see him walk in like a puppy who has no idea it’s about to be kicked.

“just a few, alright? not gonna learn your lesson next time if you like it this much.” he hears himself saying, already assuming the role. his words are slow and sure, talking to you like you’re dumb.

“mhm, yeah.” youre barely listening, wedging between his legs and nuzzling into his palm when he smooths it over your cheek in preparation.

he stares for a moment, cock straining his his slacks already— not that you’ve even noticed, eyes fixated on his. “need to hear you say it again.” he demands, a little quieter this time. rafe was a pretty shameless man, but even this pushed it a little. somehow, you knew exactly what he meant.

“daddy, please hit me.” you whimper— and oh he does, rings on and all.

♡‧₊˚✧[🎼]✧˚₊‧♡

#🐑 anon #rafe cameron prompt #tw impact play

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sad-scarred-sassy · 4 months

Text

This is a wild Elucien headcanon…

but please imagine Lucien being in a really dangerous situation with the Autumn court, like something happened and they have him as a prisoner, or unable to leave.

And Elain is there listening to how Lucien could potentially be held captive in a cold cell or even tortured.

And shes there when Eris says the only way to save him is if he has real ties to the Night Court or if he officially becomes a member, and the only way to do that is if he gets mated/married to someone from there, not anyone, but the High Lady’s sister.

And everyone is outraged with what he is suggesting but Elain is suddenly quiet.

And she suddenly says “I will do it” and everyone gapes at her, some try to talk her out of it (possibly Feyre or Nesta) but Rhys just nods.

And they send notice to the Autumn court that they cannot harm Lucien because he is a Night Court citizen, but Beron doesn’t believe it, he demands that Elain goes there so he can determine it.

Chaos, outrage, but she agrees, and she obviously doesn’t go alone. She convinces herself that while she doesn’t owe Lucien anything, she is tired of the bloodshed, the loss, and if she has the power in her hands, she will act. That is all, she couldn’t care less about him. She convinces herself she would be this worried for anyone that is close to her sister, it’s not because shes worried and scared and petrified of something bad happening to him.

They’re in the Forest House, they bring out Lucien who is luckily generally unharmed but Elain looks at the binds in his wrists and her whole body reacts to the sudden urge to protect. Beron takes one sniff at them and knows it is true. They’re mates. But Beron says an unfulfilled mating bond is not valid (listen idk about these fae laws bear with me) they need to marry. Elain declares that was the plan all along. Lucien is shocked. (I just imagine what must be going through his head seeing his mate stand before Beron in the same room where Jesminda was killed)

They let Lucien go with his mate but they have to stay in the Forest House until everything gets resolved. Elain and Lucien are shoved into a room, no more chains on him, but he doesn’t understand any of it.

Both of them are standing awkwardly in the room. Lucien is staring at her as if she has grown ears, still shocked, still reliving moments, furious at them for being so dumb as to risk themselves for him. He supposed he really was a big asset for Rhys to have done this. But her… why was she here? Why did she put herself in this position?

“Did they make you do this?” He says through his teeth.

She muses on what to say. “No” she gets offended with the assumption that she can’t make decisions for herself. “I agreed to this and came on my own free will”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because I’m tired of people dying, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I could have done something” A silence and for some forsaken reason Elain has the need to add. “This doesn’t mean what you think it means”

Something irks at Lucien then, and the awoken nerves on his body make him respond to that. “And please tell, Lady, what do I think it means?”

Elain clenches her fists. “That I’ve changed my mind about you… about this” She signals between them. “This is just temporary, out of necessity”

Lucien just stares at her.

“I never entertained that you did, I can assure you.” It is easier to turn on her, on this beautiful female that is putting herself at risk for him, than to be hurt at the continuing rejection from her. “You’ve always just assumed that I’m some brute fae that wants to steal you away, let me tell you now that we’re speaking frankly, that its not the case. I can’t control the pull from the bond, but I have no interest in pursuing a female who doesn’t want me”

That sends Elain to retaliate. “What about the gifts then, was that not pursuing?” She cocks her head arrogantly.

“I was bringing them to Feyre as well. That was me being polite, but guess you don’t know the first thing about that”

“You are one to talk about politeness when I’m here risking my life for your neck and this is how you treat me” She takes one step closer.

“I never asked you to do it” He mirrors her and steps closer with his broad hands clenched in fists.

“I will just let you die next time then”

“Fine by me, as long as I don’t have to endure you shoving it on my face”

“Asshole”

“I’ve been called worse” A sly, angry smile creeps at one corner of his mouth. She suddenly realizes they’re breathing on each other’s face.

“And all this time I thought you were a gentleman” She summons her anger to keep focused.

“You will learn I can be a gentleman, Elain” Her name on his lips, for the first time. “But I can be so much worse too”

His breath is hot on her face, their hearts already beating fast.

“You admit you were pretending then, to win me over”

A sharp breathy laugh from him. “If I wanted to win you over, I would not have tried to be gentle”

Her lips form a thin line as she holds herself, the pull, his words, the sudden effect of his mismatched gaze intense on her face.

“You shouldn’t have done this” He says quietly, roughly, his eyes showing something beyond just annoyance, she sees the fear in them. She pushes it back.

“What’s done is done” She says. “We will pretend, see this through, and then we’re done”

“Alright, dove”

She’s startled. Her nostrils flare. She ignores the outrageous pet name he just used on her. “I’m going to take a bath, I suggest you do the same, you stink” She begins to walk away and stops herself “I mean after I’m done” She frowns as she strolls away.

He watches her with sudden amusement.

He’s scared, hes pissed and hurt. He’s tired. But something inside him sparks, and he can’t really put a name to it.

Oh he’s not alright.

#guys im not a writer but I had to put this out there #if youre a writer PLEASE TAKE THIS I NEED IT #elucien #pro elucien #marriage of convenience #the best trope im sorry #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elain x lucien #autumn court drama #elucien headcanon #elucien one shot #elain and lucien banter will EAT

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daddynattt · 1 year

Note

Can u write a short little blurb of something like dirty and nasty of g!p natasha x reader you write it so hot just something like super filthy

idk why this idea came to me but 👀 hope you enjoy

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: nat has a penis, cock warming, public sex, possessive nat, dirty talk, degrading, daddy and breeding kink, mentions of maria hill

You’re sitting on Natasha’s lap, her thick cock deep inside you as you cock warm her, you’re dripping onto her lap as you’re unbelievably wet from being so horny and needy for her. The two of you haven’t had sex in three days and you’re going crazy without it. You whimper as you move against her, yelping when you feel a slap against your puffy pussy as her hands are sitting on your thighs underneath your skirt.

“Shut your little whore mouth and don’t make any sound or else Daddy is gonna take you off” you purse your lips to keep yourself quiet, not wanting to get off her lap and stop.

You see the rest of the Avengers piling into the meeting room, smiling at everyone that walks in one by one and takes their seat. The table in the middle of the room is huge and it covers what you and Natasha are doing, the two of you at the far end away from the rest, but nobody ever suspects a thing because it’s common for the two of you to be in this position where you’re always seated in her lap. You look towards Maria and give her a wave and a smile as she enters. The two of you used to hook up but it didn’t work out and when you met Natasha, you were instantly hooked. You feel Natasha squeeze your waist roughly, making you jump at the sudden contact, a small moan leaving your mouth at the sudden movement of her inside you and her possessiveness over you.

“You alright over there Y/n?” you give Steve a smile and nod.

“Great, so let’s get this meeting started. Tony? Pull up the video. Okay everyone, there’s been another threat going around-“ you zone out his voice as the immense pleasure you are feeling at the moment from Natasha inside you takes over your whole body, and you try your best to keep your eyes open and focused on the screen to at least pretend you’re paying attention, no thoughts in your head other then cumming all over her cock.

“Y/n?” you shake your head and blink as you look around the room to everyone staring at you, and you look to the screen to see it turned off. How long were you zoned out for?

“I think Y/n and I will be perfect together for this mission. We work perfectly together, isn’t that right sweetheart?” a wink is sent your way, and before you have the chance to say anything, you’re being pushed off Natasha’s lap, her hold on you possessive as she pushes your skirt up and bends you over the table, bottoming out inside you and fucking you deep and hard into the table in front of the whole team making your eyes widen. You are so worked up that you can’t help the loud moan that comes out, your eyes instantly rolling back as she pounds you from behind in front of everyone to see.

“You see this Maria? You see how she instantly gets all cock dumb for me and me only? You’ll never get to fuck her again. I own this pussy” her words cause you to become more wet then you already are, you’re nothing but a whimpering, moaning mess, and the only thing on your mind is that you want to cum. You’re completely fucked out that you don’t notice the shock on people’s faces, and everyone running out of the room except Maria as she’s glued to her seat as she watches the scene in front of a her.

“Daddy please! I need to cum can I cum? Please please please” she roughly grabs your hair into

a fist, pulling your head up and making you look at Maria as she pounds you hard from behind, your skin slapping against each other and she stares at your fucked out face, her shock evident but she can’t seem to look away or get out of the room.

“You like Maria watching you get fucked? Hmm baby? Yeah I bet you do because you’re nothing but a dirty little slut all for me. Who do you belong to? Who owns this pussy? Tell her!” you yelp as she delivers a hard slap to your butt, the stinging pain making you that much closer to your release.

“You! I belong to you Daddy, you own me. Please!”

“That’s right baby, such a good girl for me, fuck i’m gonna cum inside your greedy little pussy, you hear that Maria? Gonna cum so much inside her till she’s pregnant. Cum for me now baby” that was all you needed to hear as you cum hard around her cock, your breathing heavy and your legs shaking as they feel like jello, and you let out a needy whimper as you feel her shoot her load inside of you filling you up.

“Oh Maria, I think it’s safe to say her and I work much more perfectly together, wouldn’t you agree?” she pulls out, her cum starts dripping out of your gaping hole, and you feel her pushing it back in with her finger. She grabs you by the hair and pulls you down onto your knees, looking down at you and painting your lips with your cum as she parts them open.

“Now open your mouth and suck my cock and show Maria just how much of a little dirty cock whore you are for me only”

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x reader

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slut4thebroken · 11 months

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 8

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | You make the poor choice of teasing Dr. Crane, so obviously he has to punish you.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, praise, edging, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, orgasm denial, cockwarming?, emotions? idk, neither does he tbh, bestie has no idea how to comfort you💀

Words | 3.6k

Notes | Trying really hard to keep his character accurate😓 lmk what y’all think lol

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 7

Neither of you mentioned his confession again. He seemed to be acting mostly normal and only a little awkward and withdrawn so you tried to remain the same to assure him that nothing changed. You were sitting on the couch, doodling with a spare piece of paper he found as well as an extra pencil, when you broke the silence.

“Where are you planning on sleeping?” You asked, eyeing the large space that was empty save for a desk, a chair, and a couch.

“The couch.” He said, not looking up from what he was working on.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, making him sigh and turn his gaze to you. “For now you may sleep on the couch, I doubt I’ll be sleeping much anyway.”

“Oh. Don’t you have an apartment? A bed?”

“The cops are going to be looking for everyone that escaped, including myself- especially myself, because I created what caused all of that.”

“Oh… What if I go? I can bring you back some clothes so you don’t have to stay in that and anything else you need? I doubt I can lift a mattress on my own though.”

“You want to go to my apartment in the middle of town, wearing that?” He asked, raising his brows. You looked down at your outfit and frowned, just now remembering that you’re wearing it still.

“People are dumb enough to hang their laundry up outside. I’ll just take something before getting downtown.” You suggested, but back tracked when he was silent for a moment. “I don’t have to, it was just an idea.”

“What will you do if the police show up?”

“Um… I’ll tell them you’re my boyfriend and I left something there that I need.” That made him scoff.

“They won’t believe that.”

“Fine. Ex boyfriend. Who’s been so busy working that I had to just go there myself.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you for a moment.

“Fine. Know that if you get caught, I have no power or leverage anymore to help you.” Honestly you didn’t expect him to agree. You figured he might want to keep you within his sight at all times but that wasn’t the case. Trying not to read into this new found trust, you were going over the plan in your head.

“Wait, is it even within walking distance?” You realized, worried the whole plan just fell apart.

“It’s not on this island, so no. And the train is still down because of the bat.”

“Oh… I can probably walk, it’ll just take me longer I guess.” The sun was rising anyway, so it’ll probably be fine. “Or I’ll ask someone for a ride.”

“Do not do that.” He said sternly, making you frown.

“Why not?”

“Because this is Gotham and you are a young, attractive woman. You will more than likely be kidnapped, raped, or killed.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” He let out a heavy sigh, and got something out of his desk drawer. When he told you to come to him, you stood, leaving the pencil and paper, and walked over.

“Give me your hand.” You held your arm out to him and he gently grabbed your hand to put on a very weird shaped bracelet on your wrist. “In case you don’t have time to put the mask on, point it away from your face and hold your breath, then push this.” He pointed to a lever near the heel of your hand and you reached for it, trying to test the motion and get used to it, but he stopped you.

“Not- now.” He strained, uncurling your fingers.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

Then you were leaving, finding clothes that looked about the right size and changing in an alley behind a dumpster. The tricky part was the shoes but they’re subtle enough that they shouldn’t draw very much attention. You found an empty paper bag near the dumpster and put the mask in it then started looking for someone to drive you. You spotted an older woman getting into a car and immediately walked toward her.

“Excuse me?” You said, making her pause.

“No change, sorry.”

“Oh no, I was actually hoping you could give me a ride. I have a job interview downtown and it probably wouldn’t make a good impression to show up all sweaty. But I understand if it’s too much trouble…”

She only hesitated for a moment before agreeing, telling you to get in the back and asking for the address. You read it off the paper to her and ten minutes later you were pulling up in front of an apartment building.

“You sure this is it?”

“It’s for a small business.” You explained, quickly getting out of the car. “Thank you so much.” You dropped the smile as soon as you turned around to walk into the building. “Fuck,” You groaned, “I don’t have a fucking key.” How could you have forgotten that part? You decided to just walk inside, breathing a sigh of relief when you spotted a front desk.

“Hi, I lost my key and my boyfriend’s out of town and I’m supposed to feed his cat,”

“What number?” The man asked, bored.

“178.” He reached back and grabbed a key, handing it to you impatiently. “Thanks...” He wasn’t lying when he said everyone and everything is corrupt or just doesn’t care.

You made your way to the elevator and pushed 17. As you waited, you went over the list he gave you. Most of the stuff was easy, an extra pair of glasses in his desk drawer, a few pairs of clothes, shoes, a toothbrush as well as the extra one under the sink for yourself, etc. But you were mostly worried about the safe and the papers he wanted. What if you can’t open it? What if you grab the wrong ones?

The elevator opening with a ding removed you from your thoughts and you made your way to his door. You worked quickly, not wanting to increase your chances of getting caught, but you took the time to fold his suits, worried he’d be upset if you just threw them in his duffel bag. You opened the safe on the second try, putting the money that was in there in the duffel bag.

Then you made your way to the desk. Even though the rest of the place was completely tidy, the desk was covered in different papers. He said they would be on top, not in a drawer, so you grabbed everything just to be safe.

Before leaving, you went through his dresser, praying he wouldn’t be pissed, and got some shirts and sweatpants for yourself, as well as a hoodie and socks.

The ride back was much easier since you had money to take a cab, but you still had to walk a few minutes, not wanting to be dropped off right in front of his “hideout” just in case.

“No trouble?” He asked, barely glancing up from what he was writing.

“Well I realized I forgot to ask about a key- speaking of which, you should probably move because the guy at the front desk just gave it to me.” The corners of his lips turned up and your cheeks went red, still not used to it.

“Good job.” You stared at him in shock, feeling your cheeks heat up even more, but you tried to play it off.

“Did you just compliment me?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Don’t get used to it. Did you bring the papers I asked for?”

“Oh- yeah.” You set the duffel bag on the desk and he opened it to inspect the contents. “I- I hope it’s okay, I brought just a few shirts and pants for myself too.” You said nervously. When he didn’t respond, you figured that meant it was okay. He started looking through the papers, then turned to you with raised brows. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring the wrong thing so I just took all of it.”

“Thank you.” He said, making your eyes widen.

“Mhm.” Was all you could say in response. “Oh- here.” You said, suddenly remembering the wristband and taking it off to give it back.

“Keep it.”

“What?” You choked out. “You- you’re not worried I’ll use it on you or something?” You asked, staring at him with furrowed brows.

“Of course not.” He scoffed, then set the papers down and took out a suit and the shoes as you just waited awkwardly, not sure what to do. “Are you just going to watch?” He was teasing you, but there was still an edge to his voice.

“N- no, sorry.” You blushed, turning around and staring at the ground, listening to the sound of clothes rustling behind you and thinking about how you’ve only ever seen his face, neck, hands, and cock- nothing else. The thought made you frown. “Unless it’s okay… then I’d like to watch.” You said quietly and the rustling stopped.

“Why?” His tone was guarded.

“I just- I haven’t seen you yet and you’ve seen all of me.” You explained meekly. “Nevermind, sorry.” You waited anxiously as you heard no movement from the man behind you.

“Go ahead.” He said in a measured tone. You tentatively turned around, finding him in just a pair of dress pants, straight jacket on the floor and shirt in hand. The first thing you noticed was how lean he looks without his suit. The second were the small scars littering his torso. The third was his happy trail, leading down into his pants, teasing you.

“Satisfied?” You looked up at him when you heard his voice, not able to read his expression. When all you could do was nod, his lips curled up into a small smirk. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck you stupid over the desk.” He warned, voice laced with arousal.

“Is that a promise, doctor?” You purred, stepping closer to him, setting the wristband on the desk to have both hands free. He stiffened, but allowed you to move until you were right in front of him. Staring deep into icy blue eyes, you slowly raised your hands, as if you were approaching a wild animal who could attack at any second. His eyes moved to your hands, watching, but he didn’t say anything. So you slowly moved them closer until you could almost feel the heat from his body against your palms. His eyes moved back to yours and you searched them for a deterrent. When you found nothing, you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them down his stomach, making sure not to linger on any scars. You reached his pants and brushed over the button teasingly before snaking them back up his body.

“You’re playing with fire.” He said lowly. Your hands reached his shoulders and you trailed them down his arms. Once you reached his hands, you grabbed the shirt and set it on the desk, then took both of his hands in yours, moving them around your waist.

“On the contrary, Dr. Crane. I’m getting exactly what I want.” You placed your hands on his stomach again to snake around to his back.

“Oh? And what’s that?” He said coyly, playing along.

“You can let me keep teasing you to my heart's content or you can punish me. Either way I win.” You smirked, moving your hands down his back to his pants and following the waist line around his body until they met at the button.

“You think you’ll enjoy however I choose to punish you?” He scoffed.

“You said it yourself, doctor. You don’t want to hurt me. So I’m sure I can take it.” His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you wince as he pushed you against the desk.

“Foolish girl. You underestimate my desire to watch you crying and begging for my forgiveness. I have no problem torturing you, in fact, I’ll enjoy it.” You faltered at that. “Does that frighten you?” He asked, tilting his head.

“You don’t scare me anymore.” You said quietly, feeling the arousal in your stomach quickly make its way between your legs.

“That’s not what I asked.” He teased and you swallowed thickly, squirming under his gaze.

“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady.

“Maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will soon.” He reached a hand up to wrap around your neck, squeezing and pulling you forward as your breath hitched. “I don’t have to hurt you to torture you. You should know that by now.” He said quietly, gaze straying to your lips.

“I can take it.” You said, equally as quiet, not even believing the words as they left your mouth.

“You think so?” He cooed and you nodded in response. “I guess we’ll find out then.” He took a step back and you whined at the loss of his touch, reaching out for him. “Pick it up.” He said, gesturing to the straight jacket. Your eyes moved anxiously between him and the garment, hesitating. “This is the only warning I’m giving you— You don’t want me to tell you again.” You leaned down and picked up the straight jacket, then waited for his next command.

“Put it on.”

“Dr. Crane,” You whined, but he raised his brows, making you close your mouth and reluctantly slide it on. He stepped closer again then started buckling the restraints.

“You seem to think that pain is the only form of punishment I’ll inflict. I guess given my history I shouldn’t be surprised but you need to get that idea out of your head right now or things will only get worse for you.” You stared at him with wide eyes but his gaze remained on the task of restraining you. “There are plenty of ways I can punish you.” He said clinically, like a doctor explaining something to a patient. “Like denial, for example. Not just orgasm denial… You can’t touch me either.”

“Please- I’m sorry.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes that did not work at all.

“I bet you are. I bet you’ll say whatever it is you think I want to hear right now. Unfortunately, the only sounds I want from you are moans and cries.” He led you over to the couch and kneeled in front of you to pull down your pants and underwear before having you sit. He discarded your shoes so he could fully remove your clothes, then pulled you forward to the edge of the couch and spread your legs embarrassingly wide.

“I think you also underestimate my patience. I am more than willing to do this as long as it takes.” He started dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you, never getting close to where you wanted him.

“Please.” You whined as your hips started squirming.

“Come now… We haven’t even started and you’re already begging? At least save that until the actual torture begins.”

“Don’t want torture.” You muttered.

“No? I thought you said this would be a win for you? That you can take it.”

“Please.” You whined, much brattier this time— all but throwing a fit.

“There’s that attitude.” He chuckled. “Keep that up. It makes it more fun for me when you break.” His hands snaked up your thighs, then back down, teasing you. You whined and squirmed, but surprisingly, it worked. He moved a hand between your legs, swiftly pushing in two fingers and rapidly curling them against your walls. You let out a choked moan from the sudden pleasure as your head rolled back onto the couch and your hips bucked. He pulled you even farther down the couch, then leaned down and took your clit in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” You said through a moan, hips flinching as he groaned against you in response. Lifting your head to look down at him, you found his eyes already on you, making you blush and squirm under his gaze. After getting so turned on and not coming when you sucked him off before, your orgasm approached quickly. The volume of your moans increased as you started trying to rut against his face. He suddenly pulled back, his fingers halting, making you whine.

“Please, I was so close.” You pouted.

“I know.” He leaned back down, resuming the motions of his fingers as he started working your clit over in his mouth again. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, but you let out a choked sob when he stopped.

“Please!” You cried.

“Shh. Be a good girl and take your punishment.” He muttered before leaning back down and continuing. You weren’t sure how many times you were on the cusp of pleasure before it was ripped away from you, but you knew it was at least five— after that you weren’t able to concentrate on counting through your crying and desperation. He pulled back but continued moving his fingers as you babbled out incoherent pleas.

“I have to admit, my patience is wearing thin so I’ll only keep this up for a little longer.” You sobbed in relief at his words. “Once I’m ready to come, I’m gonna fuck your ass. Remember how much you liked it before? It won’t be nearly as pleasurable this time and you certainly won’t be able to come from it.”

“No- no, please.” You said, panicked. The thought of being empty was enough to intensify your crying. “Please- I don’t care if I don’t come, just please fuck me.” You whimpered.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He said softly, but you just shook your head.

“No, I- I need your cock- please!”

“How do I know you won’t come?” He asked, slowing his fingers to a stop before removing them, making you whimper at the emptiness.

“I won’t! Please- I promise I won’t!” He watched you cry for a moment before cursing under his breath and working on taking his cock out of his pants.

“Can’t fucking say no to you.” He muttered, helping you to lay down on the couch as he crawled over you. The second he pushed in, you let out a relieved sob that turned into a whine when you tried to move your arms.

“Please- I want to touch you. Please let me touch you.” You whimpered, watching the way his brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan when he was all the way in.

“I can’t, you still need to be punished.” He said breathlessly and you sobbed the hardest you have all night so far.

“Please! Please- I’m sorry!” You cried and he shushed you as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

“I know, it’s okay.” He cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started moving. Trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear, he whispered, “You’re doing so well, little one. Making me feel so good.” You sobbed harder at the pet name— not used to such affection from him.

“Oh god,” You moaned, already feeling close again. When he picked up the pace and began kissing and marking your neck, you started panting again. You tried to at least tone down your sobbing a little bit, but after you started, it was really hard to stop.

“Fuck- I’m already close.” He whined, rutting into you desperately now. His hands never left your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out quiet moans and shaky breaths. When he stilled with a low groan, your cunt ached at the way his cock was twitching inside you, painting your walls with his come. After a moment, his moans stopped and he was panting heavily into your shoulder. When he started pulling out, you sobbing intensified.

“No! Please- please don’t- not yet.” You whimpered.

“I need to get this off of you.” He said, lifting his head from your neck to look at the straight jacket.

“I don’t care- just please don’t leave yet.” You cried.

“Okay- It’s okay. Sit up like this.” He maneuvered you so that he was sitting on the couch and you were straddling his hips, his cock never leaving you. He started working on the straight jacket, unbuckling all of it until he could slip it off if you and toss it on the floor. Now that your hands were free, you realized that you couldn’t even do anything with them, not without making him uncomfortable. So you continued crying.

“Okay, just- come here.” He muttered, pulling you down to lay on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tight as you turned your cheek, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his skin. His hands fumbled around for a moment before eventually settling on your hips and you knew that he was probably miserable right now. Honestly you’re surprised he didn’t just throw you off of him instead.

“I’m sorry- I…” He shushed you, not letting you continue babbling out apologies.

“Just breathe.” He said softly and you couldn’t help but obey. You let out a slow shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “That’s it. Just focus on breathing. You did so well for me, I’m very proud.” You let out another quiet sob at the praise and shushed you again as he moved a hand up to your hair, lightly stroking it to soothe you.

“You’re okay.” He said softly. “Just breathe— you’re okay.”

Part 9

(For the sake of the plot, bestie is no longer taking oral contraceptives because he had her get an iud or something back in Arkham lol)

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #exposure therapy

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