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#it takes two seconds and the side effects only last a few days at most!
mrpenguinpants · 1 year
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Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs
— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.
— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore
[Masterlist]
I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...
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Tartaglia
While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!
By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.
It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.
It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?
Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.
As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.
"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"
Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.
"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"
He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.
"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.
"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.
Kaveh
You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.
He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.
So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.
It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.
It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.
He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.
When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.
"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.
"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.
"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.
"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.
"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.
Ayato
To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.
It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.
It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.
Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.
He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.
If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.
There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.
"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.
"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.
"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.
"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."
"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."
"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.
"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"
"Only because you're here."
Alhaitham
You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.
To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.
No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.
Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.
It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.
As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.
"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.
"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.
"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.
"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.
Dottore
You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.
You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.
You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.
Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.
You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.
You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.
The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.
"Where have you been?"
For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.
"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.
"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.
"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.
"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"
He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.
"As if you would have anywhere to go."
———
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A few weeks ago, I posted the fourth annual fob census asking you all to answer a bunch of evil questions regarding fall out boy, and after getting 1.3k (!!!!!) responses, the results are finally in (below the 'keep reading'). I wanted to quickly say thank you to everybody who participated in this, it's so fun to do every year and it makes me so happy to see so many others enjoy it too!! Without further adieu, here are the results:
Disclaimers: Quickly I just wanted to warn that this is a long post- it's worth reading, the results are very interesting! But it's also a lot to get through, be prepared for that! Secondly, tumblr loves to destroy image quality- click on the image to see it better!
Question 1:
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For the first question, you were simply asked what era you became a fan. The top 3 results were, as shown: 1. Save Rock And Roll Era (345 Responses) 2. American Beauty/American Psycho Era (268 Responses) 3. During The Hiatus (132 Responses) Not much to say about this one, every year the results are very similar. Most interesting is that over 100 people have become a fan in the last year!
Question 2:
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The second question asked you for your favorite era, and the results were, as shown: 1. So Much (For) Stardust Era (550 Responses) 2. Infinity On High Era (191 Responses) 3. Save Rock And Roll Era (170 Responses) The impact of the newest era is clearly seen in this question! Some could say it's recency bias, only time will tell, but regardless smfs era absolutely dominates as peoples favorite!
Question 3:
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Question three asked what your favorite album was, and this was one where I was incredibly interested to see if so much (for) stardust shook things up that much... And as shown in the top responses, it did not! 1. Folie A Deux (550 Responses) 2. Infinity On High (270 Responses) 3. From Under The Cork Tree (153 Responses) Last year, the order of the results was exactly the same. As I believe it has been every year... Folie is unbeatable
Question 4:
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The next question asked for you to objectively say which fob album is the best, to see if the responses between favorite and best differed, and as you can see, they did: 1. So Much (For) Stardust (457 Responses) 2. Folie A Deux (389 Responses) 3. Infinity On High (297 Responses) It's so interesting to me to see that so many people believe stardust to be fob's best album, but even then do not consider it to be their favorite.
Question 5:
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Now that we've gotten the favorite/best albums out of the way, it's time for least favorite/worst, with these being your least favorite fob albums: 1. Take This To Your Grave (375 Responses) 2. American Beauty/American Psycho (371 Responses) 3. Mania (308 Responses) Most interesting about these results, to me, are how much the top three responses sweep in comparison to the rest. While for the last two questions, the results were more spread, these are much more unanimous.
Question 6:
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Question six asked for the objective worst fob album, and you responded as so: 1. Take This To Your Grave (517 Responses) 2. Mania (347 Responses) 3. American Beauty/American Psycho (328 Responses) All I have to add here is that the responses are even More unanimous... Tttyg sweep ig! fdjsnf
Question 7:
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Going away from albums, the next question asked for your favorite EP, and you all responded as such: 1. Lake Effect Kid (404 Responses) 2. My Heart Will Always Be The B-Side To My Tongue (374 Responses) 3. Pax AM Days (337 Responses) Last year, lake effect kid was second and my heart was first- always very interesting to see how things shift, even slightly!
Question 8:
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The next question had you saying your favorite album cover art, and you all decided these are the best covers: 1. Infinity On High (664 Responses) 2. Folie A Deux (195 Responses) 3. From Under The Cork Tree (176 Responses) I was very interesting to see where smfs would land, with it falling in the bottom half, not disrupting the top three at all. However, folie moved up a spot, swapping with futct. Ioh reigns supreme though!
Question 9:
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These results came out identical to last year, but here are the top first fob songs you all heard: 1. Sugar, We're Goin' Down (347 Responses) 2. My Songs Know (171 Responses) 3. Dance, Dance (134 Responses) 4. Thnks Fr Th Mmrs (132 Responses) 5. Centuries (91 Responses)
Question 10:
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Question 10 asked for your favorite fob song, a very subjective question that garnered many different responses, these came out on top: 1. Headfirst Slide (105 Responses) 2. Disloyal Order (73 Responses) 3. Hum Hallelujah (69 Responses)(nice) 4. Ginasfs (65 Responses) 5. 27 (55 Responses) I have many thoughts about these results and don't want to ramble too much, but will say, most interesting: This is the first time disloyal order isn't first for this question. A big change, I think!
Question 11:
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We know now your subjective fav songs, but what about objective best? You all said: 1. So Much (For) Stardust (244 Responses) 2. Headfirst Slide (136 Responses) 3. Love From The Other Side (83 Responses) 4. What A Catch, Donnie (70 Responses) 5. Hum Hallelujah = Disloyal Order (66 Responses) Once again, lots of thoughts! We have our first tie, both smfs the song and album sweeping, and disloyal order once again Not topping the list! Huge changes!
Question 12:
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This question is always the one i get the most excited about each year. It's also the one that gets the most varied responses, but these came out in the top: 1. Sunshine Riptide (56 Responses) 2. "From Now On We Are Enemies" (49 Responses) 3. You're Crashing, But You're No Wave (47 Responses) 4. Rat A Tat (40 Responses) 5. It's Not A Side Effect = Heaven's Gate This question changed a lot from last year, with sunshine riptide moving up three spots, and rat a tat, it's not a side effect, and heaven's gate showing up when they didn't before!
Question 13:
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With underrated songs come overrated ones, and you all said these were the most overrated: 1. Centuries (330 Responses) 2. Sugar, We're Goin' Down (96 Responses) 3. My Songs Know (87 Responses) 4. Bang The Doldrums (67 Responses) 5. Immortals (62 Responses) Most of note- Bang the doldrums is here, when it simultaneously was voted pretty highly as a favorite song!
Question 14:
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This was the first time I asked the question of what your favorite fob cover is, and you all decided these are the best three: 1. Love Will Tear Us Apart (297 Responses) 2. Beat It (278 Responses) 3. I Wanna Dance With Somebody (224)
Question 15:
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Asking which song has the best lyrics is another one of my favorites to see, and this year you all said: 1. Hum Hallelujah (172 Responses) 2. So Much (For) Stardust (75 Responses) 3. You're Crashing, But You're No Wave (72 Responses) 4. Ginasfs (70 Responses) 5. Disloyal Order (67 Responses) It's not surprise these results are very similar to best song, and it's very deserved! These songs are on top every year, save for smfs being newly one of their best written songs!
Question 16:
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This question asked how many times you've seen fob live, and the results are as shown: 1. 1-3 Times (780 Responses) 2. Haven't Seem Them Live Yet (353 Responses) 3. 4-6 Times (138 Responses) 4. 7-9 Times (42 Responses) 5. 10+ Times (37 Responses) Last year, a majority of people said they hadn't seen them live, so it makes me really happy to see now, a majority has! And i hope those that haven't get to soon!
Question 17:
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Continuing with the tour theme, specific to this year, I asked what your favorite medley song was, and you all said: 1. Spotlight (New Regrets) (272 Responses) 2. I've Got A Dark Alley (165 Responses) 3. What A Catch, Donnie (146 Responses) 4. WAMS (133 Responses) 5. Get Busy Living (117 Responses) Seeing spotlight sweep made me happy, as it genuinely was the craziest moment. All of these were crazy, and so special- seeing each medley song get so much love just shows it <3
Question 18:
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Now continuing with tourdust questions, I asked for your fav 8 ball song, here were your top 5: 1. Pavlove (372 Responses) 2. Ginasfs (184 Responses) 3. Bang The Doldrums (144 Responses) 4. "From Now On We Are Enemies" (80 Responses) 5. 27 (69 Responses) Similarly to before, each of these was so crazy and special, it's great to see they all got love. Pavlove swept massively, tho, as deserved i think
Question 19:
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I think it goes without saying that each band member is loved and very important, but we all have our #1 babygirl, and here's who you all said was yours: 1. Patrick (676 Responses) 2. Pete (402 Responses) 3. Joe (160 Responses) 4. Andy (112 Responses) All i have to say is... kill that thing patrick <3
Question 20:
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Our next miscellaneous question asks for your fav music video, and this year you all said these were your favorites: 1. A Little Less Sixteen Candles (275 Responses) 2. Dance, Dance (109 Responses) 3. Hold Me Like A Grudge (89 Responses) 4. America's Suitehearts = Miss Missing You (74 Responses) 5. I Don't Care (67 Responses) I was curious to see if a stardust mv would make it in, and was glad to see grudge did! Otherwise, very similar results to last year. Old favs die hard i suppose <3
Question 21:
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Here, I asked for your favorite band that isn't fob but is related/adjacent to fob, and you all said: 1. My Chemical Romance (576 Responses) 2. Paramore (302 Responses) 3. I Don't Know How But They Found Me (88 Responses) 4. Cobra Starship = Green Day (75 Responses) 5. Gym Class Heroes (58 Responses) Not much changed from last year, other than green day getting more love, which is interesting to see! (Also, wanted to note that i did forget to include panic!... however less than 10 people wrote them in as an 'other', so results were not affected by that oversight!)
Question 22:
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These last questions are all this or that style ones, with our first pairing being disloyal order and hum hallelujah: 1. Disloyal Order (762 Responses) 2. Hum Hallelujah (588 Responses) Interestingly, last year this match-up was a solid tie. Clearly, opinions have changed to make disloyal order sweep!
Question 23:
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Our second this or that pit snitches and talkers vs you're crashing: 1. You're Crashing (808 Responses) 2. Snitches And Talkers (542 Responses) These were the top two underrated songs last year, so it's interesting to see which one is truly preferred!
Question 24:
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Our last this or that, and last question, put centuries and my songs head to head: 1. My Songs Know (977 Responses) 2. Centuries (373 Responses) All the commentary I will provide is saying: is centuries even overrated anymore with it getting destroyed like this.... fkjdsnfks
And with that, the 2024 fob census comes to a close! If you've read this far or, really, participated at all in this in any way, I want to say thank you again! and that I hope you had fun with it, and that these results were interesting to look through! Also, will throw out there, I worked very hard on this and would appreciate a rb if you read all the way through it! <3 If you have any questions about any data or questions, want to see more in depth results or commentary or analysis from me, feel free to shoot me an ask/dm! See you next year for year 5! :-3
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catboyieejeno · 11 months
Text
don't kiss and tell: part 3 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
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other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader summary: maybe you indulged yourself too much. you always knew that if any of you caught feelings, things would get complicated. if you knew, then why did you let it get this far? content: non-idol au, explicit smut, cursing, pet names, angst, foursome with switch! reader, switch! mark, switch but sorta sub! haechan, sorta dom! jeno, unprotected sex (pls be safe), hair pulling, fingering, oral sex (male recieving), creampie, there is plot (please read parts 1 and 2 to fully understand!) wc: 10.2k
masterlist
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
18+ minors do not interact !
“no.”
“but mark-”
“absolutely not.”
“mark, please.”
“we end up doing this every time.”
“this is the last time, i promise!" you plea, one hand resting on his tense arm, "and if i remember correctly, the last two times we did this, it was your idea!”
with the heaviest and most dramatic of sighs, mark’s shoulders sink down in defeat, head rolling back. the last syllable is dragged out as he complains again, "but we've seen this episode before!"
"yes, but it was so long ago that i don’t even remember what happened, please!" you insist, black remote clutched stubbornly in your hand. when he takes longer than two seconds to conjure a convincing argument, your finger presses the middle play button without missing a beat, just in case the boy next to you decides to protest again.
as revenge, the bowl of buttered popcorn, still warm from being recently made, is snatched off of your lap and clutched between mark's palms as he settles under the blanket.
"alright, fine. but pay attention this time so that you don't start asking questions," he's only half-joking, even when he tilts the bowl away and out of your reach playfully. incapable of really denying you anything, mark notices your puffed out cheeks and snorts, compliantly setting the bowl between your bodies. you're busy rolling your eyes, muttering something under your breath close to the effect of "i don't ask that many questions."
while your right hand reaches in to grab a few pieces and pop them into your mouth, you train your eyes on the tv in mark's room. it's the only source of light in the otherwise dark space, illuminating the sharpest points of your faces in cool-toned hues of blue and purple.
maybe it's because he has already seen this episode and is only re-watching it to appease you—and reinforce your lacking memory of the plot—but mark's dark orbs find themselves troubled with the task of concentrating on the screen. instead, they're fixed on you, swimming over the curves of your features.
he's caught himself thinking about you more often these days: jumping for his phone in hopes that it's your name that appears when he gets a text, or staring at you with no intention of looking away unless there's a chance you may catch his eye. at first, he considered knocking some sense into himself and snapping out of this risky habit he's developed, but how could he do that when the very mention of your name provokes a whirlwind of thoughts?
without tilting his head too much in your direction and giving himself away, mark watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. much like his gaze, his mind is preoccupied with all that is you, disregarding the content on the screen.
he finds his mouth salivating as a quick flash of you hovering above him crosses his mind, suddenly reminding him of the way your weight felt on his face, shaking thighs on either side of his head as his tongue swirled around your folds to savor your taste… thank god, he's under the blankets.
and the sounds you made for him? the sweet sounds you made might very well be responsible for his newfound infatuation. mark catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to remember the way his name slipped off your tongue like velvet-
"mark?"
just like that.
"mark!"
ripped from his daydream and forced to return to reality, mark quickly blinks, eyes snapping to you and widening slightly as he orients himself, "what? sorry i-"
"i asked if this is the guy who was caught with the killer last episode?"
mark gawks at you, a certain amusement or perhaps endearment behind his eyes, be it intentional or not.
it takes him a moment to register your ask because, well, he fully expected you to ask questions because you always ask questions, regardless of what's playing—but for reasons unknown, your little quirk felt particularly familiar today, wholesome even. it's enough to make his heart slightly swell.
"or wait, no! isn't he the one who- why are you looking at me like that?"
he shakes his head softly, unaware of how beguiled he looks, and mutters out "no reason." as his lips press together again, they curve into a little grin.
you raise a brow in confusion, "i know you said not to ask questions, it's just that i wasn't sure if-"
"oh, i don't mind."
as you inspect his face, trying to pick apart what's going on with him, mark's attention starts dwindling once more. why had he never noticed how pretty you are? i mean, he's always thought you were pretty, but something feels so distinctly different now. so, what changed?
for starters, the kiss—no. it wasn't the kiss. he had already doubled back to check if that was the moment that you decided to take a piece of his heart for yourself, and it wasn't. that day, nothing that you did or said solidly implied you might have wanted to be more than friends.
then, there was the time you sat on his face. as exceptional and undeniably revolutionary as that moment was, he wasn't the only one who ate you out, and mark is almost positively sure that he started feeling like this after you deliberately singled him out; something you had done had distinguished him among the other boys and made him feel as though there was a connection between you, more than just the sexual aspects of the bet.
Or, perhaps he's just deluded, searching for any minimal interaction between you that justifies how his ever-waking thought is you. he considered that possibility, also, but it doesn't feel as likely, or at least he sincerely hopes it isn't the case.
so when? when did you make mark lee feel so special that his heart decided to beat wholly for you? it's on the tip of his tongue.
he hasn't uttered a single word in two minutes, despite your burning gaze. "okay, seriously," you sit up, ceasing the playback at once, "what? do i have popcorn in my teeth?"
"no."
"then, what is it?"
baby. that's what it is.
when you called him baby, that's when he started feeling this way.
he's never been keen on pet names, they sounded foreign or misdirected when others would use them on him. but when it came from you? it was heavenly.
ever since you called him that, voice airy and thin as you drowned in the pleasure he gave you, mark had never been the same. moreover, he could not seem to forget a single, minute detail: all three of the boys ate you out, but the only person who you called baby was him.
"why did you call me baby?" he surprises you and himself, the question leaving the safe space of his mind before any consultation is made with his better judgement.
your eyes flicker between his, "what?"
"you called me baby."
quick to object, you lean back, "no i didn't. when?"
"not right now," he shakes his head, "but that day... the day you, uhm- sat on my-"
"oh." in the wake of your realization, your heart begins to wildly leap in your chest.
it's impossible to forget the events of the game night; in fact, any time you're in the same room as any of the boys, you can't help but think of it and wonder if they do, too. often times, the memories follow you even in their absence, at moments where you're alone and randomly dwelling over your exchange with mark.
the two of you cuddling while you were fully naked and in still your post-orgasmic bliss, right before he left to grab you some clothes for the night and offer you his bed, tugging a long a blanket so he could crash on couch for the remainder of the evening...
yes, that exchange. you proceeded to not sleep a wink that night, despite the lingering smell of him on his sweats and sheets that lulled you to comfort.
however, not once since that day had any of you dared to bring it up in conversation, especially as bluntly as mark just had. so, naturally, your cheeks are blossoming, sporting a bright shade of red that is evident even under the tinted blue glow of the tv.
in your shock, you can't tear your eyes away from mark's. you're frozen in place, blinking at him as your brain urges you to spit out any moderately coherent response.
when you finally find your voice, you're a stuttering mess, "well, it's just that, uh- it just felt right, i guess. i mean, why are you asking?"
"because," he pauses, the nerves finally catching up to him, "from the moment that word left your lips, i haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
"mark..."
"please tell me i'm not crazy." he interjects, fearing there's a rejection coming. if he doesn't speak out now, he might never get the chance to, so he continues, using every last bit of courage he has, "i really, really like you," his voice cracks slightly, "but, if you can look at me and tell me that you don't think about me the way i think about you, i'll never bring it up again. we can forget this all happened,"
you've been staring at him the entire time but somehow, you failed to notice the way he had inched closer at some point during his confession. when you don't pull away or immediately refuse his feelings, he starts to lean in, letting his eyes freely travel down to your lips. very carefully, he reaches up to hold your face, wary that a single wrong move could rob him of the virtue that is tasting your lips again.
little does he know that not one single fiber of your being intends to interject or stop him. when your eyes flutter closed, giving him silent permission, he presses his mouth to yours gently.
god, if you thought the first kiss you shared with him was slow and torturous, nothing could have prepared you for this one.
tenderly and gingerly, mark moves his mouth against yours, finally free of any distractions or time constraints. his fingers disappear into your hairline as he rotates his head to revel in the feeling of your warm, plump lips finally grazing his.
with no hesitation, you reciprocate his affection, sinking into the warmth of his touch. it's as exhilarating as ever to kiss him, even with the slight awkwardness that radiates off of both of you.
at first, he's modest about using his tongue, but it soon swipes against you a few too many times, pleading for entry. his eagerness becomes increasingly evident when he delivers a slight but sharp tug at your hair that causes your lips to part and his tongue to freely swipe at yours.
fuck, everything he does is so hot, and you're suddenly bursting with the need to get closer to him in any way possible.
without breaking the kiss, you reach to move the popcorn to the bedside table behind you, hoping it doesn't fall although you can't be bothered to care if it does. slowly, you move to straddle him, the skin at your waist heating up under the contact of his guiding hands that place you right over his lap.
by now, there's a growing arousal between your legs, made so much more apparent when his hardened cock brushes against your cunt and you feel how cold your wetness is, pressed flush against you. it doesn't help that he's feeding breathy whimpers into your mouth.
unintentionally, you whine out the pet name in return, and he pulls away for the first time, checking if he heard you correctly. baby: four letters and he instantly feels his heart rattle against his ribs.
"holy shit, say it again."
"fuck, baby, please."
"please what?" his eyes stare into yours—deeply, attentively, like an unbreakable trance—he's hanging on your every word, disposable to fill any demand.
with a soft batting of your eyes, you mutter, “kiss me,”
he doesn't need you to ask twice; a guttural growl leaves his throat and mark dives back in to capture your lips, bucking up to rub his erection into you. with a seemingly insatiable hunger, your hands start busily exploring his chest and shoulders, clawing at his shirt running through his hair, grabbing everything you can reach. your fingers slide up from the expanse of his shoulders to his locks, where they settle, allowing you to pull him even closer.
in this moment, mark is thinking about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. turns out, he didn’t imagine your affection, it was really there the entire time. his mind is racing; he thinks about how the swell of your breasts feel against pressed against his chest, how your tongue licks his teeth and wets his lips, meanwhile you're grinding yourself down to feel more of him— sure, you two were already on the same page about one thing, but there’s still an issue at hand, an issue that won't leave his mind even with all the wonderful things distracting it.
when the air is beginning to run short in his lungs, he pulls away again, chest heaving. leaving his forehead pressed to yours, he mumbles out a question that makes you instantly dizzy.
"do you wanna do this?"
you quickly nod, but the weight of his question isn’t clear.
"no, like, do you want to do this,” he emphasizes what he means with an index finger that points between you and his implication clicks. the sigh the breezes past your lips makes his shoulder’s immediately tense up. mark fears he may have completely ruined the moment. that is, until you answer.
"i think so," you nod slowly, taking him by surprise. a small smile sits on your lips, thumb coming up to swipe his cheekbone affectionately. he leans into your touch as you continue, "we can talk about-"
"-no, because there's no way that you actually think the earth is flat." distantly, a set of voices are heard, along with the sound of the apartment door closing. the first belongs to jeno, obvious despite the way it's muffled.
"i'm just saying, bro, there's a possibility."
"you're actually an idiot, donghyuck, oh my god," their footsteps are rapidly approaching, heading straight towards you.
"watch, i bet you mark agrees that-"
you and mark don't have time to scramble off of each other before his bedroom door swings opens with a thud. simultaneously, you both turn to face the boys who skid their heels to a stop, taking in the scene before them.
hyuck's eyes widen, but he masks his shock by simply striding inside and letting his hands sit at his hips, "woah, what did we just interrupt?" his tone is mocking and accusatory, and jeno rolls his eyes.
"oh, we were just-" you finish climbing off of mark, nervously brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
the boy looks between the two of you and the tv, nodding in understanding, "netflix and chilling?'"
jeno shakes his head, "i don't think they got to the chilling part, hyuck."
"then it looks like we got here just in time. got room for two more?" he scoffs playfully, wiggling his eyebrows at his own lewd comment that more than likely, isn't a joke. at your silence, the youngest boy sits at the edge of the bed, ready to state his case.
"i know how that sounds," he sputters quickly before you or mark can object, "but seriously, think about it: it’ll be full circle! we started with the kiss, then i proved i'm the best at head, and now we can- ow!"
you've lost count of the amount of times jeno has had to smack him over the head recently. "what hyuck is trying to say," he explains, "is that he's a horny fuck who can't keep it in his pants. come on, bro,"
mark snorts, slightly amused at the situation. he can tell you're a little flustered from being caught, even more from being proposed such an offer. he knows hyuck can be quite relentless.
the boy in question shrugs off the hand that jeno placed on his shoulder to pull him away, stubbornly whining out, "you're telling me you're not even a little bit curious about what it's like to fuck all of us at once? think about it, princess. we'll be at your disposal, again."
no because when you put it like that...
fuck, fuck, fuck.
how do you always find yourself back in the same situation? in fact, why are you even considering this?
your first instinct is to turn around and look at mark, since you're not entirely convinced that after tonight's confession he'll be jumping at the chance to share you. the two of you are stuck between friends and something more, as a result of the boys interrupting before you could continue your conversation. still, there's no denying what you feel for him.
it's not any less true that your panties are soaked and ruined at the mere idea of having all of them in palm of your hand, competing to pleasure you for the third time. even so, your decision remains an easy one: if mark isn't okay with this, then you aren't either.
you want to prove to him that you're serious about him, not blatantly disregard him and agree to hook up with his friends right after he told you about his feelings.
when your eyes land on him, however, whatever resistance you're expecting to see is nowhere to be found. mark's slumped posture implies he's completely relaxed, and he's looking back at you through a low-lidded gaze.
“what do you think?” you ask him timidly.
“is this something you wanna do?” he no longer refrains from touching you in front of the boys, letting his hand reassuringly slide under your shirt and the tips of his fingers rub circles on your lower back.
shuddering under his touch, you blink, “is it alright with you?”
the fact that you’re even checking with him reinforces that you really do like him. it boosts his ego, gives him a certain sense of ownership over you. now, he knows that if he told you he wanted you all for himself, you'd be his without a second thought.
surprisingly, there's a lack of jealousy bubbling in his chest; the idea of you bouncing on his best friends' dicks doesn't bother him. if anything, it pushes him to fuck you even better.
if they can make you moan, he'll make you scream.
"if you want to, i don't mind doing this one more time," his lips curl up to small smile, "but it's the last time."
when you turn back around, hyuck can't seem to contain his bubbling excitement. laughter rumbles in his chest, a devious expression taking over his features.
even jeno, who originally wasn't as persistent with the idea, is taking long steps over so that he can quickly come up to stand beside where you sit. it's not in his nature to overstep boundaries or even push them, and you've noticed he always seems more apprehensive when things escalated to this point. weirdly though, despite his initial shyness, he always seems to surprise you.
unlike mark and hyuck, he wears a bit of a nervous smile, but you can still see the outline of him in his pants where he grows harder and harder.
you shake your head, laughing breathlessly, "you're all crazy."
"maybe. but if that pussy feels half as good as it tastes..." hyuck trails off, licking his lips, "what do you say, princess?" he leans closer until he's slightly hovering above you, propping himself up on his hands. he's not shy about the way he gawks at your lips with unfaltering focus, waiting for them to mold and utter a yes.
so you give him exactly what he wants.
between your legs, your clit throbs, and you don't know it, but the innocent, doe-like look in your eyes makes the precum leak angrily from his tip.
the word has barely left your lips before hyuck leans in, pressing his lips to yours roughly. the first thing you notice is that it's so different from your recent kiss with mark. hyuck has always been greedy with his affection, that much you know, but it's made painfully obvious in the way he kisses you now—it's like he's in a frenzy, edged on by how hard you make him, furiously turned on and desperate to sink himself in your folds.
you were so busy molding your mouth into his that you almost missed the sensation of all their hands on your body, each with a different placement and intention. one of hyuck's hands made its way between your legs, palm pressing into your clit while the other grabbed his own erection to grope it over his jeans.
on your left, jeno comes in, rolling your shirt up so that your boobs are exposed, nipples boldening when the cool breeze hits them. his thumbs flick the buds distractedly.
mark groans quietly from behind you, squeezing the skin on your ass and thighs between his fingers before running his hands up and down your spine. he sits up to remove your shirt.
you and hyuck break the kiss for a moment as the material comes up and over your head, and he takes the opportunity to remove his own shirt, but before he can dive back into the sanction of your lips, jeno's grip on your throat turns you to him.
he lets his mouth brush over yours, a thumb tugging your jaw down. you're practically panting in his face, and you may have otherwise been embarrassed if he didn't look to be so absorbed.
"i'll try to be gentle, but every time we end up back here," his breath is hot, "i get the urge to ruin you."
indeed it seems that he plans to surprise you this time around, too.
there is such intense fervor and impatience burning though your veins right now, and his provocative words aren't helping. you want to be devoured right now, to have your clothes ripped off so that you can be used.
he casts his gaze all over your features, "speak up. what's running through that pretty little head of yours?"
you speak with the absence of shame, letting the need drip off your lips, "i want you to make me feel good,"
"you're so fucking hot, fuck," he praises, voice resembling a growl. an involuntary whine escapes your throat, perhaps out of frustration because he's still teasing you with a kiss, or maybe pleasure, since hyuck's hand is still rubbing into your core, setting you aflame with want.
or, it's could very well be because behind you, mark's hot tongue has started sliding across your skin, over your shoulder and into that sweet spot where your collarbone meets your neck.
"alright," mark breathes the words into your skin, pulling you slightly toward him, "i go first."
hyuck is quick to object, getting up on his knees, "why should you get to go first?"
"i don't know if you recall," the clanking of his belt being unbuckled makes you drool, "but you two interrupted us,"
"wait," you insist. mark looks at you expectantly, pausing his movements, "let me,"
something about the way his eyes flutter, softening as he watches your fingers inch closer to the waist band of his pants, drives you absolutely mad. it tugs at your heartstrings to see his cheeks so flushed, his features suggesting that he's both taken aback and contented by your sudden initiative.
you're basically crawling over to him now, lowering your face so that you're eye-level with his crotch and your ass is up in the air—don't worry, this new position doesn't go unnoticed by the other boys.
while you busy yourself tugging down his jeans so that they're looped around his upper thighs, jeno mirrors your actions. in less than two seconds, your shorts are slipped down and pooling where your knees meet the mattress, leaving you in only your panties.
when haechan reaches to slide it off, jeno's blocks him, "not yet. look at this," a single finger prods you, swiping down the tiny piece of fabric that covers your folds. he's pointing out the blotch of wetness to the other boy, a darker shade than the rest of the material around it.
mark's eyes are set on you, unmoving, watching the way your comparatively small hand wraps around the shape of him. he had made you feel so good last time, and because you were unable to return the favor then, you felt the need to impress him now—you wanted to see his eyes roll back as he came down your throat.
in an effort to tease him just a bit, your tongue darts out, licking a stripe across the outline of him over the black boxers he's wearing. his pouty lips form an 'o', right hand brushing your hair from your eyes.
"quit teasing and take this off for me, baby."
obediently, the tips of your fingers hook his waistband and pull it down, letting his hardened length spring free. your eyes widen slightly, meeting his, and the first thing you notice is that all of him is pretty. tussled hair, soft eyes, hollowed cheeks that suck in a breath, pink tip that glistens with silky pre-cum.
you waste no time, letting your lips slide against him, tongue collecting every drop of his arousal. as soon as your hand wraps around his base, he lets out a hiss through his teeth.
as much as you'd like to keep your focus, it proves to be slightly difficult, considering the way jeno's fingers are rubbing you, still refusing to discard the last piece of clothing that remains covering you. he's simply spreading your wetness, getting off on the fact that you're so aroused and barely anything has happened yet.
"you like that?" hyuck asks you.
you can only hum, lips wrapped around mark's slit. he hisses again, bucking up at how sensitive he is while your sounds vibrate against him.
"we should prep her," jeno thinks out loud. you clench around nothing at the thought, "how else is she gonna be able to take all three of us?"
"let me take her panties off,"
"no," he simply tugs them to the side, exposing your slit.
hyuck huffs with exasperation, "why?"
"don't you wanna watch her panties get ruined?"
from the silence, you can only assume that he's been convinced. before you know it, one of jeno's long digits is pushing into your entrance. you lift off of mark with a pop, letting out a soft moan.
it's been months since you've had sex, so you're grateful that they've decided to ease you in. you don't know how you would've handled the burning stretch otherwise, especially now that you've seen mark's impressive size.
jeno pumps in and out of you slowly, watching the way his finger becomes coated with your juices. you cry out as he adds another finger, then another.
returning to the task at hand, you replace the thumb rubbing mark's head with your mouth, sinking down as far as you can until he's disappeared past your lips.
"oh, yes, baby, just like that. your throat feels so good," he whimpers, slurring over his words. he didn't know if he was better off grabbing a fistful of the sheets or of your hair so he greedily settles for both. gathering all of your hair with his right hand, mark tugs you up.
when you gasp loudly, he gently coos at you, "breathe, baby. remember to breathe."
you nod, although you're not sure you properly processed the information. the feeling of jeno's three fingers curling in your core and hitting so deep inside of you have your mind a bit preoccupied. mindlessly, your eyes flutter closed.
"look at me, pretty baby."
with a hum, you oblige, blinking at him. your face is pinched in pleasure, your orgasm approaching quickly, but you're determined to pleasure him. you take his cock in your mouth again, cheeks hollowed as you bob up and down, taking care to swirl your tongue long the bottom of his shaft.
"ohh-aah."
you pop up for air once and mark thinks he might get a break, a second to admire the string of saliva that connects his tip and your lips, but you don't give him that liberty, quickly sucking him off again.
it's his turn to gasp now, a low groan rumbling in his throat. when his eyes close, you stop your movements, breathlessly retorting, "look at me, baby" just as he had said to you moments ago.
what were you doing to him...
mark smirks, tongue pressing into his cheek. he only manages to uphold this amused expression for a second, because when your nose bumps against his base again makes his teeth clamp down on his lip.
and when you swallow around him-
he quickly pulls you up by your hair, "don't do that again or i'm gonna come,"
"but baby, i want you to come-"
"no." mark pants, "i wanna be inside of you before i come."
your hand is still pumping him, subconsciously matching the pace jeno has sets with his fingers in your cunt. there's a wet squelching sound from between your legs, and your thighs beginning to shake.
jeno curses, landing a slap on your ass, "fuck, i feel you clenching around my fingers, you're so tight."
what sends you over the edge is a perfect combination of a few different things: jeno maintaining his speed, knuckle deep in you, hyuck taking his thumb to rub circles on your clit, and mark, even when dazed from the way you we're just pleasing with your mouth, holding your face in his hand, a string of encouragements and praises leaving his lips.
"come, baby, please. i wanna see your face as you come."
"oh, shit, shit, shit-i'm-" the pressure in your stomach snaps and cuts you off. your hips instinctively begin to roll back desperately until you're basically grinding yourself into the boys' fingers. for a moment, you cant make any sound, just letting out labored breaths in the midst of your blinding bliss.
but, as you start to come down, you realize the boys haven't let up, and you finally find your voice when the pleasure slips into overstimulation, leaving you a fidgeting, whining mess, clawing at mark's shirt for any way to ground yourself.
he takes your hands into his, admiring the sight of you overwhelmed so early into the night.
jeno draws his fingers back, instantly bringing them to his mouth where he sucks them clean.
"she's ready for you," hyuck smirks, "and you were right," he turns to jeno, gesturing at your underwear and the enlarged stain that keeps spreading as your juices continue slipping out. he uses both hands to spread your ass cheeks, "this was a sight worth waiting for."
mark slides off the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt off in the process. he doesn't bother fully taking off his pants or underwear.
"c'mere"
you scoot closer, bringing your legs together so he can slide your shorts up and toss them aside. then, with no hesitation, mark spreads your legs with both hands, hungrily taking in the sight of your wet and slick core.
there are so many nerves bubbling in your stomach right now. with the way he's staring at your figure, you swear you're about to burst into flames. the tiniest details of his being are absolutely the most mind-blowing. there's a single drop of sweat sliding tentatively down his long torso, lean and defined. his chest keeps rising and falling quickly, and you can tell from the way he looks you up and down that he, just like you, is trying to soak up every last detail of how you look.
he thrusts into his hand a few times before guiding his tip towards your folds where he slides himself between your lips, poking at your bundle of nerves time and time again. he rubs himself into you, teasing incessantly until your back arches and pleads are falling from your mouth.
"please, mark, please.."
he sucks his teeth, "please what?"
"i wanna feel you,"
and he complies, cause he's so lenient when it comes to you. he gives you a small nod that tells you he's satisfied with your response, then slips just the tip in. you had started to moan out but as soon as he pulled himself back, you end up whimpering instead.
"shh, baby, i know, i know," he bends down to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes close, pushing himself in again slowly, "i don't wanna hurt you."
after a few more patient thrusts, he bottoms out inside of you. your stomach tightens at the feeling of being full of him, deliciously stretched out and warm.
when you blink your eyes open, you notice that beside you, hyuck has pulled off his jeans and is kneeling in his underwear with his dick out, rubbing himself and spreading his leaked pre-cum over his swollen tip. he's clearly frustrated, cheeks red and bottom lip puffy from biting at it.
jeno hasn't taken his length out yet, but you can't imagine it would take him much longer. the tent in his pants, constrained by the black denim of his jeans, must be killing him.
you reach out to help hyuck and the boy shudders before you've even grasped him in your palm. he's sensitive, crying out quietly for you to give him more. for a second, you consider laughing, the peculiar sounds taking you aback.
hyuck who's normally a smart-mouthed menace is suddenly begging for you to please him?
irony aside, you happily adhere to his pleas, spitting in your hand so that it's easier to slide up and down his length. he’s a mess by the fourth or fifth stroke, leaning his weight back on his palms as he struggles to not blow his load yet, especially with the way jeno squishes and plays with your boobs.
he’s for sure a boob guy, constantly fondling them and tugging on your nipples until you wince. you suspected it since the last time, but it’s rather obvious now.
hyuck is intently watching everything, practically thrusting into you to increase the friction.
between your legs, mark rocks his hips a little harder, enough to graze a spot inside you already so sensitive from jeno’s fingers. you sigh out, reaching for him with your free hand to pull him closer.
when he fucks into your spot again, you clench, making his movements buffer momentarily. “oh, my god.” he sighs out, gripping your waist tightly.
“you’re so deep,” you're drinking up every last moan from him, hyuck, and jeno, the last to unbutton his pants. he releases his dick from the white boxers brief's and as the air hits it, his head falls back. you don’t refrain from marveling at the sight.
as mark moves to push down on your lower stomach, your eyes roll back.
"mark, baby, fuck," truthfully, mark doesn't know what he did in a past life to deserve this. you're sucking him in so tightly, your walls gripping him with no intention to let go. under his palm, he can feel where the head of his cock hits inside you. the layer of sweat on your face makes you look like you're glowing, and your soft hair is fanned out around your face, like that of a halo.
"yeah, you like that?"
you nod breathlessly, breasts bouncing up and down as he pounds into you. the hand that wraps around hyuck’s dick begins to lack consistency as you lose yourself in the feeling of mark in you. desperately, hyuck rushes to place his hand over yours and guide you up and down.
there's a coil about to break within you, your second orgasm hurling toward you with no plan to stop.
you're foggy, dizzy—the only thought in your mind is how intense the ecstasy is, how good you feel in this moment. your walls squeeze tighter and tighter until you announce:
“oh, i'm gonna come-"
"baby," he slows down, speaking softly "not yet."
"what?" you lean up, lids snapping open, "why?" your orgasm is ripped away from you as he pulls out, leaving you writhing and empty. you're left fluttering around nothing, yearning for release.
"i don't wanna tire you out before they have their turn," he looks to jeno and hyuck.
in disbelief, you pout, pulling him closer by his forearms, "but i wanted you to-"
"i will," he kisses you, momentarily calming your mangled cries, "believe me, baby, I wanna come with you. let's let them have a go, yeah?"
you shakily nod, still mourning the feeling of having him filling you up. nonetheless, in an effort to be good for him, you sit up and turn to hyuck, who's been edging himself for the last few minutes.
"fucking finally," he groans, realizing that your gaze trailing down to his cock, tells him it's his turn.
wasting no time, he scoots up to lay down on the bed and up you go to follow him, crawling over so that you're straddling his lap, only a few inches above his throbbing erection.
he urges you to come down and jeno tsks, shaking his head, "both of you are so impatient."
your entrance is already so wet that when your fingers direct his tip there, you’re able to sink right down, both of your heads rolling back at the relief.
"i want you to ride me," hyuck sighs out, gripping your hips to roll you against him. knowing that it would only heighten the experience, you reach for jeno's shoulder, bringing him closer. he's quick to reciprocate, pressing his lips to yours as his hand holds the back of your head. at first, he only rests it there, but as your hips roll faster and the moans start resonating in your throat, he pulls on the strands he grips.
"is this okay?" he murmurs, giving another test tug.
"yes," you breathe out quickly, nodding, "yes, jeno."
you hold yourself up on hyuck's bare chest, nails digging into his skin. he's especially deep inside of you because you're sitting on his lap and every sway of your hips provides your clit with friction as it rubs against his pelvis.
progressively, his and your moans get louder as both of you get sloppier. jeno busies himself by mercilessly fisting your hair, studying the way he can make you gasp out and wince.
mark is droopy-eyed, leaning in to kiss your shoulder blade.
“yes, ride me just like that. fuck, i think you’re close cause you’re-“
“i am close,” you confirm, jaw slack.
“use me, princess. keep using me until you come all over me,”
god, you want to, but the burn in your thighs is becoming unbearable. you slightly whimper “i can’t,” and hyuck starts with pleading with you, begging you to keep going.
“m’so tired, hyuck,”
you’re starting to sweat, legs weakening with every time you try to urge them to move.
hyuck realizes that you are indeed struggling, and he grips your hips tighter.
“it’s okay, i got you,” with an unsteady thrust up, hyuck manages to lift you enough to buck his hips up into you at an impossibly fast pace, chasing his own climax and prepared to deliver yours. within a few seconds, you’re coming again.
jeno tightens the grip on your hair and your high suddenly hits you that much harder—even as you come down, you’re floating, reaching back for mark who whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he drags his lips along your cheek, lazily kissing you.
“oh, shit—i’m gonna-“ hyuck slips out of you, using his hand to stroke himself until he spews his milky white liquid into his stomach, trembling below you.
“do you need a second?” mark wonders, looking over your body that glistens with perspiration. you shake your head, though it’s not very convincing.
“no, i can keep going.”
jeno lightly brushes your hair over your shoulder, his hold on it loosening when your orgasm came to a end. now, he settles for rubbing soothing circles onto your smooth skin.
"i'll be good to you, yeah? i'll take it easy." he assures you, helping you climb off of hyuck who's just barely beginning to regain his composure, dick still twitching where it lays on his stomach.
jeno practically carries you, placing you on the side of the bed that was unoccupied. as mark lightly blows cool air in your face, jeno takes his shirt off, kneeling on the bed so that he's right behind you, your back pressed to his chest. like this, you're sandwiched between both boys, your exhaustion quickly fleeting as you feel their skin against yours.
shaky fingers come up to hold mark's shoulders, and he sweetly kisses you. as you arch your back, you can feel how jeno's hard and potent tip brushes between your folds, teasing your entrance.
even though you're sensitive, you're still dripping with need. your essence is coating your thighs and mark's sheets, and now, jeno's dick, which he slowly seeps in.
you whine into your kiss with mark, breaking apart to lean your head back onto the broad chest against your backside. both pairs of hands are roaming your skin freely, and you're unable to distinguish whose is whose or predict where they'll go next. you settle for savoring every touch and grasp they leave in their wake.
you can tell jeno is reading your body language, interpreting each gasp and reaction you give so that he can speed up when you're ready to take all of him.
"you can go faster," your permission comes out mumbled, but you’re too restless to sit at this speed. he hisses at the way you wiggle around temptingly, walls massaging him. he never thought you’d be so warm and so, so wet. it takes him biting his cheek to not bust right then and there.
bringing a hand down to your ass, he gives you exactly what you want, grunting with each thrust, slamming into you at an angle that makes your breath get caught in your throat.
there are stars swimming on your eyelids from how hard you're squeezing them shut, your hips subconsciously pushing back to meet jeno's with shameless desperation, needing to feel him closer.
everything about the scene is so lewd: the sounds of your skin slapping against each others, the bed creaking rhythmically in accordance with jeno's thrusts, the drops of sweat that slide down his chest and side burns and make him glisten, even in the dim light...
mark begins lowering himself so he can take your nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth grazing the bud till it darkens and perks up, brings his fingers to your clit to rub you.
your mind is clouded with lust, vision is fuzzy and glazed; it's like something out of a dream. both of your forearms are held behind your back in one of jeno's large hands while the other one wraps around you, holding your neck and tilting your head back so that he can look at you. when he isn't watching your face, admiring the way it contorts in pleasure, he's kissing and sucking the skin on your neck.
and the sounds he makes as he fucks you? otherworldly.
the grunts he's delivering to your ear are delectable and you involuntarily clench around him, yelping out when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder at the way your walls squeeze his cock.
"shit, jeno!" you breathe out when mark lifts his fingers, dipping them into your mouth. when you lick them clean, he places them back where they were, leaving you a shuddering and fidgeting mess. jeno stills his movements, pushing himself as far into you as possible. "oh, god, you're so deep," you mewl.
with a smirk on his face, he slowly starts moving again, spreading your cheeks so he can watch the way his cock sinks into you time and time again, disappearing between your wet folds. just the sight makes him twitch.
"i'm close," he warns, twisting your hair around his wrist and pulling you close to kiss your cheek affectionately. you nod weakly in agreement, leaning into his touch. though you’re unable to utter a single intelligible word in response, a series of quiet whines leave your lips as you sit on the verge of your third orgasm.
"is he fucking you good?"
you nod at mark's question, reaching for his hands again.
"i wanna come on your ass,"
"p-please," your voice must sound no better than pathetic by now.
your stomach churns on cue as mark's speeds up his motion, teasing your throbbing and puffy clit until you find yourself gushing around jeno's dick, walls fluttering from overstimulation. it's well worth all the sensitivity, because you’re coming so hard.
god, and you still have another orgasm awaiting you.
you're suddenly being bent over as jeno puffs and huffs, sliding out of you and working himself until his hot cum covers your ass and back in stripes. he pants loudly, teasing himself until every last drop has been emptied and your covered in his release.
"yup. that was hot. i'll be back, i'm gonna go clean up," hyuck pipes up for the first time in a while, tapping his hand to his stomach to watch how his load sticks to his fingers in webs. he scoots off the bed and leaves, presumably to the bathroom.
"you gonna clean up, too?" mark asks.
jeno shakes his head, still heaving breaths, "nah, not yet." his eyes land on you but mark quickly shakes his head.
"we're gonna wrap it up here, i think," mark explains, holding you up by your waist, "i don't think she can take any more,"
"i can," you stubbornly argue, "mark, you haven't even finished, baby."
between your bodies, his dick is standing as tall as ever, red and inflamed and knocking against your lower stomach. he's undeniably rock hard, and you'll be damned if you don't get to watch the look on his face when he orgasms.
"it's okay. i can take care of it myself. you-"
you lean in to kiss his jaw, cutting his words short. when he stops talking, you bring your lips to his ear, you whisper, "i want you to come inside of me,"
his eyes widen, and you catch the way his cheeks get red when you lean back. his reaction makes your heart beat faster, and you reach to hold his face.
"are you sure?" the shock dwindles into concern again.
"if i was too tired," you peck his lips, "i would tell you. i'm sure that i want this." he grins softly, scooping you up by your thighs to lay you on the bed, diving on top of you and situating himself between your legs. he's still kneeling, and in order to kiss you, he has to lean over, lips landing on yours with so much delicacy that it takes your hand on the back of his head for him to sense that you want more.
your other hand reaches to grab his length, slowly pumping it. as you run it up and down, his breathing changes and he moves to kiss down your chest. effortlessly, mark picks you up again by your hips so that your head is the only part of you still resting on the bed.
you're so filled with desire that you moan even before he touches you. he doesn't make you wait long, though, wasting no time and guiding himself to your entrance, sopping wet and ready for him. as he directs your hips closer, you help tilt his tip down. finally, he's inside of you again with a shiver and the sexiest drawn out groan, stuffing you full.
his jaw tightens instantly at the pressure of you squeezing around him, and when he speaks, it's through gritted teeth, "you're so wet," he moves with caution since you're still hypersensitive, "and after how many times you've been fucked tonight, you're still so fucking tight. shit, i can feel you sucking me in."
slowly but surely, he starts picking up the pace, working you until sweat droplets are sliding down the side of his face.
he's fucking into you so mindfully, making sure that he pulls out enough to see most of his head, then pushing in so far that you're flush against the base of him, jolting up when he hits a spot that's particularly deep.
every time that you cry out his name, his eyes flash up to yours, taking in your fucked out expression. your hair is a mess, makeup running just a bit. all of your features are scrunched up, mouth open and panting, and currently. you're holding a hand over your mouth, the other placed over his where it meets your hip.
damn, he could come at the sight of you like this.
and he does.
he's filling you up in more ways than one now, spilling into your cunt, grip tightening enough to leave bruises along your waist. he realizes in this moment that after today, there's no way he's not pussy-whipped by you.
how could he not be, when you were taking him so well? when you asked him to come inside of you?
he also realizes that you still haven't finished and his thrusts are beginning to stutter. voice strained, mark chokes out, "aah, shit. are you-?"
"just a little more, baby, please," your words are muffled by the hand on your mouth but he gets the message nonetheless, grimacing at the overstimulation of keeping up such a speed now that he's so sensitive. he keeps going, because he has to help his baby ride out her high.
your fingers dig into the sheets as your orgasm hits you, waves of pleasure flushing through your core. your face is red hot, vision blurred, cunt booming with a pleasure so intense, nothing like you've ever felt before. a mix of your wetness and mark's cum is coating his cock now, making a ring at the base of it and spreading all throughout his length. when he'[s sure you're done, he cautiously pulls out, watching as his seed leaks out of you.
"that was-," he pauses—inexplicable, heavenly, incredible, mind-blowing—"there's no word that even comes close."
when you look over, jeno had come a second time, the sticky white substance all over his hand and thighs. he resembled both of you, breathing heavily. you take in the sight of him through your lashes, shoulders are rising and falling, hair sticking to his forehead.
the bedroom door opens about half way, and hyuck pokes his head in, "i could hear all of you from the bathroom on the other side of the apartment. it was impressive, really. oh, and sincerely, i feel envious of your future boyfriend. that dude's gonna luck out." you can feel everyone's eyes on you, face getting red, "i'm gonna knock out. thank you for that, yeah?"
"yeah," you reply, offering a bit of an awkward laugh.
mark kisses your forehead and lips before getting up, pulling his underwear and pants up. he walks over to his drawer to grab a change of clothes for you as jeno gets up, too, dressing himself.
he gives you a nod, "stay here, okay? i'm gonna grab something to clean you up with."
it wasn’t like you really could move anyway, at least not yet. your thighs were burning, and if you tried to get up, your wobbly legs would give out.
as jeno leaves, mark brings over a folded shirt and a pair of boxers for you to wear, setting them on the night stand.
“i’m gonna shower,” you lean up on your elbows, flashing him a tired smile. mark brushes your hair behind your ear, nodding.
“you wanna stay over, pretty?"
"i'd love to."
"good. wait for me, i'll be right back."
when he clicks open the bedroom door to leave, jeno is on the other side. he was about to reach for the handle. as mark shimmies out, the boy walks in, a warm, moist towel clutched in his hand.
you laugh as he shields his eyes, coughing awkwardly. "sorry, uh-is it okay if i-"
"jen, you're acting as if you didn't just fuck me. you've seen me naked twice now."
he lets out a little snicker, casting his eyes over you softly. when you reach for the towel, he shakes his head, "here, let me. can you sit up for me?" you do as he asks and he gets closer, "you have some- let me get that for you," trailing off, jeno holds your face as he gently wipes away the black smudges from your under-eyes.
you're simply looking up at him, but for some reason, when he meets your gaze, his ears go red. he really hopes you don't notice.
in an effort to hide how flustered he is, jeno moves away, going around the bed. you let out a little squeak, shivering when he starts wiping away some of the stickiness from your thighs and ass where he relieved himself earlier. then, he moves to the front, wiping between your legs with hesitance.
"why are you so nervous?"
he instantly tenses up, stilling his eyes on the bed instead of on you, "huh?"
"you're all... shy. i don't know. it just seems like after we do..." you look around, trying to find the right word, "well, this—you're a completely different person."
"oh," he looks like he wants the earth to swallow him, and you slightly pout at his reaction. maybe you shouldn't have said anything.
"you know what, forget i brought it up." you sigh gently, "it's not a bad thing, i swear, it's just... i don't want this to affect our friendship."
"it already has." he mutters defeatedly. as he finishes wiping you off, you take mark's old shirt, throwing it over your head so that you're not completely nude. his statement doesn't slip your mind, though. not at all.
"what? what do you mean?"
"the reason i get nervous," he starts, but it takes him too long to continue and you're interrupting him again, kneeling up and tugging him to sit beside you on the edge of the bed.
"if you didn't wanna do this, you could've said something, jen. i'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable or-"
"no, no. it's not that. like, genuinely, it's so far from that." he laughs lightly, finally finding your eyes. you immediately relax at the sound that rumbles from his chest.
"so, tell me." you shrug.
for a few seconds, jeno tries to organize his thoughts, but his efforts are futile. he can't remember a single time he didn't wish he could tell you what’s been on his mind. in fact, for the last six months, it's been the first thing that's popped into his head when the two of you entered the same room.
fuck, man. no matter how many times he's rehearsed the same speech, it's not any easier—especially not now. you look as pretty as ever, and it doesn't help that he's made you come around his tongue, fingers and cock-
spit it out, jeno.
"i like you."
if you were expecting to feel any bit of relief, think again.
the burden that was meant to be lifted is now immediately heavy on your shoulders, and you're convinced your face has gone entirely pale.
"i've liked for as long as i can remember. and it was easy to ignore at first, until the day we kissed.” his eyes fall to the ground, “for a while, i was so mad at hyuck because i didn't want to put myself through that if i knew i wouldn't be able to have you. b-but even then, i thought ‘i might be able to forget. it was a ten second kiss that was for a bet, you know?’"
oh, god. your heart beats so loud that for a second, you think he'll hear it.
"but then, after the night we were drinking after today... after today, i don't think i’ll ever be able to forget." his hand is paced over yours as he gulps, "i was even gonna ask if you wanted to stay in my room, but i know you and mark are close and i chickened out. i think-" he takes a breath, "i think i'm in lo-"
the door creaks open and mark walks in. saved by the fucking bell. "okay, i've got you some water, a towel, and i brought the sheets so that-"
before you can even open your mouth, jeno gets up awkwardly, slightly disappointed, too. he coughs, cutting mark off. "we'll talk later, yeah?" he walks past him without sparing either of you a second glace, consumed by embarrassment and leaving you to call after him.
"yeah, o-okay." you shout, but he doesn't acknowledge it.
no, no, no. there's absolutely no way that just happened.
guilt bubbles thickly in your throat, burning bitterly as your breathing picks up.
"baby?"
you need to go home. you can’t stay here, that much is obvious. moving to get up, your heels hit the floor and you clumsily stumble, mark reaching with his free hand to hold you up.
"woah," he waits for you to stand steadily, then turns, putting down the things he brought in on the dresser before taking long strides to return over to you. his hands rest on the back of your arms. "you're probably sore, yeah? do you want to- hey, hey." he notices the puddles beginning to pool under your eyes, "what's wrong? does something hurt?"
"no, it's-" you let out a shaky breath, reluctantly meeting his eyes, "it just sucks to be right."
"what are you talking about, babe?"
"stop calling me that." you shake your head. at once, mark's face falls—it absolutely crumbles, and so does your heart.
he mutters your name lowly, leaning so that he's at eye-level with you. with a heavy heart, you brush away his hands, wiggling out of his embrace and moving to grab your clothes that scatter the floor. he doesn't move to stop you, yet.
beyond confused, mark just watches you gather your things; his breath is caught in his throat, meanwhile his brain racks to piece together a single reason or cause for your behavior. he’s drawing blanks, though. everything was going so well.
after a few seconds of standing in the same spot, he speaks up, a hand reaching for your shoulder.
"can we talk about what happened? you just-"
“mark, nothing can happen between us.”
dumbfounded, he reaches out to stop you dead in your tracks this time, "what? why?" his eyes are narrowed, eyebrows pinched.
"it's too complicated,"
"no it's not. i like you, you like me. what's complicated about that? is it because of what we all just did? because i don't care about that, i told you it was okay and i meant it-"
“no, mark you don’t get it—“
“then tell me so that i can understand why-“
"jeno just told me that he had feelings for me!” it didn’t matter that you were whisper-shouting. the words carried enough trouble on their own without needing any volume to make them any clearer or alert the man of the hour, whose room was right down the hall.
you decided to keep his much more serious confession to yourself, the one where he almost professed his love. mark didn't need to know about that. it didn't matter now, anyway.
at your statement, his persistent rambling ceases.
"what?"
"while you were gone, he told me. so nothing can happen between us, and that's that."
he shakes his head in disbelief, tightening his hold around you when you attempt to break away again, "i'll talk to him. i'll explain that you and i are already-"
"no, you won't, and no, we're not, mark. drop it." you escape his grasp which weakens at your harsh proclamation. without a second thought or any elaboration, you’re sliding your shorts up your legs. hurriedly, you begin to travel the room, collecting your phone from the night stand, slipping your shoes on, and putting in your bag your previously discarded clothes and undergarments.
"baby, you're giving up on us before we've even begun,"
fucking damn it.
you halt your packing, turning to glare at him, though there isn’t much anger. it’s hurt that reads instead, reflecting the one in his own stare. "how would you feel if i started going out with jeno?"
"what? so now you wanna go out with jen-"
you roll your eyes, rephrasing. "no. i'm asking: how would you feel if i started going out with jeno?"
begrudgingly, he grumbles, "terrible," under his breath.
"precisely."
maybe you indulged yourself too much. you always knew that if any of you caught feelings, things would get complicated.
jesus, you didn't think it would actually fucking happen.
if you even suspected this was a possibility, why did you let it get this far?
all of your belongings are gathered. your hair is tied back and your keys are in hand. your mind is racing, but there's not much you can do to help that now.
before mark can utter another word, you cast him one last, sad glance, and walk out the door.
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
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theostrophywife · 7 months
Text
kiss with a fist | chapter three.
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masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: high enough by k. flay.
author's note: we're well on our way. this is a shorter(ish) chapter, but that just means that you might get the next one sooner rather than later. as always, please enjoy the banter and sarcasm.
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Angel’s Trumpet was going to be the death of you. 
You were convinced of it.
The multiple failed attempts to brew the wretched draught hung over you like a pall and followed you into your second week. When Wednesday night finally rolled around, you were in a proper foul mood. You couldn’t even bring yourself to take more than one bite of lasagne, which was usually your favorite. 
Beside you, Luna set the latest copy of the Quibbler down and looked over at you with concern. “Still having trouble with potions?” 
You nodded, sighing in frustration. “It’s this bloody Angel’s Trumpet. I’ve read over the recipe so many times that it’s practically ingrained into my subconscious, but I just can’t seem to get it right.”
Your roommate smiled faintly. “I know,” she said in her breathy voice. “You do come up with some rather creative curses when you’re studying.” 
You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Loons, have I kept you up with my late night ranting again?” 
“No need to apologize. The wrackspurts are truly doing a number on everyone, not just you. They’re especially rampant during the start of term.” Her dreamy eyes sharpened into something that resembled mischief. “And how are your sessions with Theodore going?” 
The faint smile on your friend’s face told you that she definitely knew more than she let on. Besides you and Theo, Luna was the only person in Hogwarts who knew about your secret little dalliances. She had figured it out rather early on last year when you and Theo kept mysteriously disappearing at the same time. It was a shame that everyone underestimated her. Luna Lovegood was the most astute person you knew. 
You had absolutely no doubt that your secret was just one of many that Luna had uncovered by simply being observant. After all, teenagers weren’t exactly covert even if they were witches and wizards. 
“Miserably,” you finally answered. 
Much to your annoyance, Theo had not let up since the weekend. Day after day, he dragged you into the potions lab with varying disastrous results. Just the other night, the damned cauldron spewed magenta liquid like a geyser, effectively soaking you and Theo in pepto bismol pink like a demented water park ride. No amount of scourgify could wash away the shame. 
Luna laughed. “Pansy said that Theo spent hours scrubbing potion off of his fancy leather shoes.”
“Pansy?” you asked incredulously. “As in, Pansy Parkinson? Since when are you two the best of friends?” 
Your friend shrugged nonchalantly, but you clocked the slight flush in her cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to replace you. Pansy and I just have a few classes together, that’s all.” 
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is she being nice to you? I swear to Godric if she even says one mean thing I’ll stick a broom up that witch’s ar—“ 
Luna held her palms up. “I appreciate the concern, but I assure you Pansy is very nice.” 
That wasn’t entirely convincing, but you trusted Luna’s judgment. As protective as you were over your friend, you knew that she was perfectly capable of handling herself. 
“I just worry,” you said, patting her shoulder. “Those little serpents have teeth.” 
“Oh, I think you’re more familiar with the Slytherins and their teeth than I am.” 
“Loons!” 
She smiled unapologetically. “Speaking of which, here comes your serpent now and he does look poised to bite.” 
You turned just in time to see Theo marching down the aisle with two of his housemates. The curly headed one, Mattheo Riddle, swaggered on his right and winked at you. Flanking Theo’s left side was Enzo Berkshire, who gave you a polite wave. He was by far the most tolerable out of the lot of them. You wholly ignored Mattheo, but acknowledged Enzo with a nod. 
Theo, on the other hand, you openly glared at. “To what do I owe the displeasure?” 
Every head at the Ravenclaw table turned towards your direction. Though your housemates liked to think they were above the petty drama, Ravenclaws were some of the worst gossips in this school. Three Slytherins walking amongst their midst was as juicy as it got. 
Completely unfazed by the attention, Theo slid in next to you on the bench. “Someone’s got their wand in a twist.” 
You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I’ll twist more than just your wand if you don’t leave me the hell alone, Nott.” 
Mattheo smirked. “Oh, I like her.” 
The glare you shot his way was full of venom. “The feeling is not mutual.” Enzo fought a smile as Mattheo gaped. You ignored the both of them and turned back to Theo. “Who are they supposed to be? Your cronies?” 
“Merlin, she never truly lets up, does she?” exclaimed Riddle. 
Theo grinned. “You have no fucking idea, mate.” His expression faltered when he saw the ire dancing in your eyes. “Right, I know that look. Leave us before she decides to turn you two into toads.” 
The boys reluctantly backed away. Beside you, Luna followed suit but winked behind her shoulder as she left the Great Hall. Luckily, Theo’s back was turned to her. 
“What do you want?” 
“Glory, riches, power. The usual,” he deadpanned. “What do you think I want? I've been waiting for you at the lab for half an hour.” 
“I can’t,” you said dismissively. “Not tonight.” 
“Oh, yes you can. I’m too invested to give up now. I am going to teach you how to brew Angel’s Trumpet even if it kills me.” 
“I’d prefer to skip the brewing and get right to the fun part.” You didn’t even notice that your bantering had stopped every conversation at your table. Everyone watched as you menacingly twirled your wand. “Shall I buy a new dress for your funeral?” 
Theo smirked, seizing your wrist. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly so only you could hear. “I’d rather see you wear my jumper again.” 
“Let go of my hand and I’ll be sure to turn up to your wake donning your beloved jumper.” 
He sighed in frustration. “I’m serious about the draught, diavolina. We’re trying again. Tonight.” 
“Was my last try not humiliating enough?” 
“There’s definitely room for improvement. Avoiding turning the lab into a slip and slide would be my first suggestion.” His mouth quirked in amusement. Prick. “Aside from that, I think I finally figured out the missing ingredient.” 
“And that would be?”
“Relaxation,” Theo answered proudly. “You’re way too uptight and it’s feeding into your magic, hence all the explosions.” 
You scoffed. “You want me to relax? I have literally never relaxed in my entire life. I came out of the womb stressed about taxes.” 
Theo snorted. “That’s exactly why I’m here. Let the expert teach you, sweetheart. Being relaxed means being confident and being confident means success.” 
“You do know that confidence and arrogance are two different things, right?” 
“Do you want to brew the bloody potion or not?” 
The fact that Theo was the one motivating you to do school work was only slightly despairing. “Fine,” you conceded. “Teach me how to relax, oh Great Master.” 
“Tucking that away for names I’d like for you to call me in bed.”
“Pervert.” 
“Don’t slut shame me, Y/N. We all have our kinks.” 
“Great. Mine is committing acts of violence against snarky Slytherins.” 
“This snarky Slytherin rather enjoys your acts of violence. Especially if it involves your smartass mouth on mine.” You flushed in response, which only made Theo smirk in satisfaction. “Now, come. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” 
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The Astronomy Tower was the last place you expected Theo to take you to. He didn’t really strike you as a stargazing type of guy, but then again, you probably didn’t strike people as the type of girl who slept with her academic rival out of spite. 
Maybe you both had layers. Layers upon fucked up layers. 
The thought almost made you laugh hysterically as you silently watched Theo transfigure his robe into a blanket. He laid it gently across the wooden floor and beckoned you over. “Sit,” he said simply. 
“This is awfully romantic of you. You take a lot of girls up here, Nott?”
“Only uptight little Ravenclaws who’d rather vex me to death than enjoy a stunning view of the stars.”
You snorted. “Sorry to disappoint.” 
He rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him. “Sit. I won’t ask again.” 
To be fair to Theo (a statement you never thought you’d make), the stars were stunning tonight. You sat cross legged on the blanket and watched as constellations twinkled in the horizon. If you were up here with anyone other than the present company, you might’ve found it rather nice. 
But alas, this was Theo you were talking about. It was only a matter of time before he ruined it somehow. Probably with a lascivious comment. 
“Why are you sitting like you’ve got a stick up your arse?” Bingo. “Even more than usual, I mean.”
“Maybe you’re the stick up my arse.” 
“Don’t joke, darling.” Theo quipped, placing a hand over his chest. “You know I’ve been asking for months.”
“Do not make me push you over that railing, Theodore.”
“Jokes on you, I find your threats incredibly arousing. I’m pitching a tent in my trousers just thinking about it.” 
You rubbed your temples. “How is irritating the shit out of me supposed to be relaxing?”
Theo grinned, reaching into his pocket. “Because, I have this.” 
With a proud smile, he produced a tightly rolled blunt. 
“That’s your big idea?” you asked, wrinkling your nose at the joint. “Taking me to the highest tower in the castle and getting higher than a hippogriff so we can potentially fall down the stairs and break our necks?”
“It’ll help with your nerves.” 
“The only thing wrong with my nerves is that you’re always on them.” 
He smirked, sticking the joint between his lips. “You’re deflecting. What’s the matter, diavolina? Scared to partake in the devil’s lettuce?”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, give it here.” Theo’s eyes widened as you took the joint from his mouth and stuck it in yours. “Well? Are you going to light me up or not?”
He shook his head in mild disbelief before pulling a lighter out of his pocket. You squinted at the silver Zippo, which had initials engraved on the front. The writing was too faded for you to read.
“I got tired of Mattheo stealing my lighters,” he explained. “This way I don’t lose track of it.”
The initials weren’t what surprised you. It was the fact that Theo even had a lighter in the first place. Most wizards just used magic to conjure fire. They certainly didn’t go around carrying muggle inventions in their pockets. It almost made you feel like you were back home in London, bumming a cigarette off some drunk after a night out in the pubs. 
“Why not use incendio?”
Theo shrugged. “An irritating know-it-all once told me that not everything has to involve magic.”
It was strange to hear him echo your words. 
None of it made any sense. Theo would’ve had to venture into a muggle shop to buy that lighter, which was unheard of for a pureblood. Especially not one whose family was part of the now disbanded Sacred Twenty-Eight. The idea of Theo walking around Camden Market to purchase a Zippo was more disorienting than the drugs. 
This little discovery did not line up with what you thought you knew about him. You squinted at him in the dim light, inhaling deeply. The smoke filled your lungs and clouded your senses. Yet one question remained even as you exhaled. 
Who the hell are you, Theodore Nott?
Sensing your gaze, he watched with a small smirk as you passed the joint over to him. It seemed impossible for the drugs to be taking effect so soon, but you found yourself mesmerized as Theo took a long drag. Smoke curled around his mouth as he leaned back on his elbows, tipping his head back to gaze up at the moon. 
“Why the Astronomy Tower?” you asked after a few moments. 
Theo shrugged. “It’s nice up here. Quiet. It helps to get away from the noise.” 
“Strange. I’d become convinced that you sometimes speak just to hear the sound of your own voice.” 
A set of dimples appeared on Theo’s cheeks. On anyone else, it might’ve been endearing. “Close. There’s also the added bonus of annoying you.” 
You didn’t try to stifle your laughter. “Yes, I suppose that sweetens the deal.” 
The two of you sat in silence, passing the joint every so often and quietly contemplating the stars. The absence of noise was jarring. You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren't surrounded by noise. Ravenclaws were a chatty bunch. Whether you were exchanging the newest piece of gossip or bragging about academic achievements, there was always this constant exchange of information. 
Your brain was hardwired to process input. Without it, you felt sort of like a toddler who had just gotten their comfort blanket ripped away from them. 
“Stop fidgeting, Y/N,” Theo commanded with his eyes closed. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.” 
You frowned, picking at your nails. “I don’t think it’s working. Either your drugs are rubbish or my neurosis is canceling it out.” 
He opened one eye lazily. His body language was languid, like he was floating through air. You envied him for it. “Just take a deep breath and empty your mind.” 
“I know that may be easy for someone whose thoughts are typically vacant, but I’m not wired that way. I can’t just turn off my thoughts.” 
Theo sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He stared at you for a second before his eyes lit up with realization. “Of course. I’m so stupid.” 
“No argument there.” 
He rolled his eyes in response. “I’m trying to get you to relax the Theo way when we should be doing it the Y/N way.” 
“What does that even mean?” 
“Think of the one place in the castle where you feel most at peace.” 
You cocked your head, contemplating. The answer came to you in an instant. “Okay. I’ve got it. What now?” 
Theo rose to his feet and offered you his hand. “Lead the way, diavolina. Show me how the chronically neurotic unwinds.”
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cyberfreaky · 7 months
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MY PRETTY BOY ♡
— synopsis: while cuddling with your best friend, you soon notice the bulge in his loincloth. you decide to help him out the only way you know how.
— warnings: 18+ content (MDNI). handjob. sub!jake + afab!reader. pet names. subtle mommy kink (jake calls reader ‘mama’ a few times). praise kink. cum eating.
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you’re cuddling with your best friend as per usual. jake’s arm is coiled around your shoulder, and your head is resting upon his firm chest. the only sounds were your shared breaths, just you and jake enjoying much needed time together. his bed was always the cosiest. and his hut had become your sanctuary, too.
jake was hyper aware of your touch. the way your body moulded with his own made him gulp nervously — especially the feeling of your soft tits pressed up against his side. he felt everything. it was secretly getting to the na’vi man, and his hips would squirm unconsciously every now and then. you wouldn’t take much notice to this movement, considering your eyes were closed as you rested soundly. his ragged breaths weren’t that unusual.
after a few minutes, you wanted to adjust the position of your leg. you hummed quietly to yourself, bending your knee and overlapping it across jake’s tummy. your calf dangerously close to his crotch. jake’s breath hitches as your frail arm drapes across his chest, your entire body latched onto his side as you obliviously enjoyed your little cuddle session. his mind was running at 10 m/ph. he felt so dirty for the way he was thinking, but he couldn’t control the blood that was rushing to his dick. every touch from you was like heaven, and the bulge beneath his loincloth was growing exponentially.
the poor baby has no idea what to do. how does he tell his best friend that she makes him rock hard? that he fantasies about fucking her every night before he goes to bed? that he fists his cock whenever he gets way too worked up, turning into a whimpering mess at the thought of thrusting inside her tight pussy? jake was at a loss. and on top of that, he was embarrassed beyond belief. it wouldn’t be too long before you came face to face with the fact your best friend was a little perv. at least, that’s how jake assumed you’d see him.
your eyes didn’t open, but a subtle shift in your leg brushed across jake’s hard-on. this alone made a soft moan leave his lips, one that didn’t go unnoticed by you. “jake?” you whispered, soon glancing up at your best friend and watching as his face grew a deep mauve. he refused to look at you, going as far as turning his head to the side as if he were holding back tears. you lifted your calf, now seeing the true effect you had on him. the straining of his cock looked almost painful, and there was already a damp blotching in the fabric.
the humiliation on jake’s face was apparent, and you sympathised with him. he was a sensitive man, you’d known this since the day he latched himself onto you. the last thing you felt for jake was disgust - if anything, you wanted to help him out. that’s what friends were for, right?
“hey, look at me.” you’d coo softly, bringing your hand up to jake’s face and gently forcing his head to face you. it took him a few moments to look down at you, and his pretty eyes were filled with tears. he didn’t want to lose your friendship, you were the most important person in his life. “you want me to help you out?”
jake was shocked…you wanted what? you were actually offering to help him, rather than pushing him away? the man sat there silently for a moment, the surprised expression on his face contorting into intrigue as the seconds passed. he’d craved nothing more than for you to want him. not just platonically, but sexually. and here you were, laid besides him with a mischievous smile. there was no way in hell that he was going to pass up on this opportunity.
“…yeah. p-please.”
you smiled at jake’s timidness, the two of you remaining in your cuddled position. his body was so stiff, and it wouldn’t take long before he was relaxing in your embrace.
your head remained on his puffing chest, eyes focused on the bulge protruding from jake’s loincloth. you gently untied the simple knot on his side, pushing aside the covering for easier access. “eywa.” you gasped to yourself as jake’s cock was exposed to you. he let out a breathless whine, his throbbing dick springing out and hitting his abdomen. you were taken back by the size and girth, it was certainly a delicious sight.
“how pretty.” you drawled, brushing your thumb across his bulbous tip. pre-cum glazed across the head, dripping down the side of his veiny length. jake’s speech was stuttered and staggered, barely able to form a coherent sentence.
you spat into your palm, soon coiling your slender fingers around jake’s fat cock. with the saliva and oozing release from his slit, it provided you enough lubrication to pump him comfortably. you were so casual as you cuddled jake, jerking him off with deliberate, slow movements. you already felt him pulsing on your grip, his hips desperately bucking in the air for faster friction. you didn’t stop him from doing so, and let your best friend thrust himself witn your hand.
“oh, shit.” jake groaned loudly, his back arching off the bed as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. your delicate hand was like heaven to jake, and he could only imagine how good it’d feel to fuck you for real. “god, faster. f-faster!”
you kept that agonising pace, not once giving into jake’s pleas. you wanted to hear him beg a little more, and a little smirk crept onto your lips. “say please.” you taunted jake, fisting his cock even slower just to make him whine dramatically. he was so fucking desperate, and the way he glanced down at you with flattened ears nearly made you let up. “be a good boy and use your manners.”
“please, mama.” jake’s tone was so bashful and urgent, that suggestive name made you want to giggle. this grown man was puddy in your hands - you’d singlehandedly made toruk makto buckle. and now he was calling you mama? how precious. you couldn’t say no to such a pretty, little thing.
“that’s it. you’re so good fr’mama.” you praised jake, gliding your wet hand faster and jerking him with a delicious speed. you’d alternate your hand from twisting around his length, to pumping him relentlessly. each motion had jake’s thighs clenching, biting hellishly on his bottom lip till blood was nearly drawn.
your words of praise awakened something within jake, and he wanted nothing more than to receive your validation. each time you gave him a little compliment, all while jerking him off, only heightened how horny he was. the na’vi man was reduced to nothing but whimpers and grunts of pleasure. his climax was building rapidly within him, but he didn’t want to cum yet. he wanted to hold on longer just to impress you.
jake’s cock was so pretty. the way it pulsed and twitched in your hand made you want to lap up every drop of arousal that leaked from his tip. the azure skin glistened with his own pre-cum, mixed with your spit. the white, sporadic freckles down the length was almost picture perfect. you wanted more than to just jerk him off. you wanted him inside you, jn every way possible. to feel his girth stretching you out till you were cumming all over his happy trail. eywa, he was beautiful. and the same exact thoughts were swirling through his own mind.
“look at you. such a pretty boy.” you’d say quietly, pressing a few gentle kisses across his bare shoulder. you paid extra attention to the base of jake’s cock and showing his heavy balls some love. you’d fondle them in your hand for a moment, squeezing them gently and rubbing the fullness. this new sensation earned a string of loud moans from jake, and brought him closer to release. you wanted nothing more than to suck on them while getting him off, but you had to be patient. both of you had to be patient.
“christ, m-m’so close.” jake panted through whimpers, gripping the white sheets below him as his hips frantically slammed against your hand. with your tight grip and sweet voice, it was a miracle he hadn’t already came. “mama, please..mmhm!”
as much as you wanted to deny jake’s orgasm, his screwed up expressions and watering eyes were making you soft. your fingers glided up towards the tip, pumping and twisting the reddened tip to coax out his release. you leaned closer to his ear, whispering sensually as you gently bit the lobe. “c’mon, baby. cum for me.”
that was all jake needed to hear. with a few final pumps of his hard cock, he’d easily reached that sweet release. “yes, y..yes…fuck!”
jake cum spurted out of the tip and lathered his abdomen and your hand. it practically sprayed out, leaving your fingertips sticky with his warm release. your best friend’s eyes were wide open, staring up at the ceiling as his chest heaved up and down. you’d given him that ecstasy he’d been craving ever since he met you, and it was so addicting. he laid there silently for a moment, trying to compose himself as a single tear drop rolled down his face. the weight of his orgasm was immense, and he’d never felt such relief in his entire life.
“holy shit.” jake muttered to himself, unsure of what else to possibly say.
you looked down at your sticky hand, and back towards a breathless jake. you didn’t even think twice before bringing your fingers to his mouth, inserting them past his lips and making jake swallow his own cum. not surprisingly, he lapped up every drop as he tiredly glanced down at you. jake sucked on your wet digits hungrily, grunting and moaning while his tongue swirled around the tips. the role of submission he was falling into made his cock hard once again, though his had absolutely no shame this time around.
you truly had him wrapped around your pinky finger.
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— all rights reserved © cyberfreaky (2023) do not repost, translate or copy my work without given permission.
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toruro · 1 year
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hyung line + making up after a fight
a/n: find part one with the argument right here and maknae line's version right here! i promised a resolution and here it is! hope you like it, and please leave likes/comments/reblogs &lt;3
w/c: 2.4k
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seungcheol
when you wake up the morning after your fight, seungcheol isn’t next to you. you kind of expect it, the effects of last night’s argument still fresh in both of your minds. still, you miss the warmth of his body next to you in the morning, and the chill you’re feeling right now does nothing to aid your already wounded heart. you crawl out of bed slowly, pulling on a sweater as you make your way to the kitchen where you find seungcheol leaning against the counter as he waits for his morning coffee to brew. you realize he hasn’t noticed you yet, and you figure he’s lost in thought so you quietly creep up next to him, looking down when you mutter a quiet “good morning.” he jumps a little, surprised, but then turns to look at you with a soft expression on his face. “hey,” he murmurs, quickly bringing a hand to yours to interlock your fingers in his, “do you wanna talk now?” and when you nod, he’ll agree, pulling you to the dining table so you can both sit across from each other and talk about the situation but much more calmly and slowly than the night before. once the issue is resolved, he’ll be standing up and pulling you into his arms so tightly you think he might just squeeze the air out of you. “i’m sorry,” he’ll whisper as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, “for what i said,” and it would only take you a second before you’re spewing out your own apologies, holding him closer. after a few moments he’ll pull back and let me tell you seungcheol would kiss you SO passionately your mind would go blank. the rest of the day is spent with you two basically joined at the hip, being way more clingy than normal to make sure that there’s no more pent up anger or frustration.
jeonghan
granted, arguments with jeonghan will pretty much never reach the point where you’re both still bitter in the following morning. but in the rare case that you’re still a little sulky in the morning, he’d press closer to you and prop himself up against the headboard, pulling you on top of him so your head was resting on his chest. as he strokes your head, he’d ask you to talk about how you’re feeling and he’d let you ramble all that you want, occasionally adding in his own short and calculated responses. once you’re done, he’d still have you in his arms, talking about solutions and stuff and basically the issue is resolved within minutes if it was not already resolved the night before. he’d still take extra care of you this morning, spending at least an hour cuddling with you in bed before suggesting a shared bath which you obviously can’t deny.
joshua
mornings after Those Arguments with joshua are whole experience on its own. you slept on the couch, so naturally you didn’t have the best night’s sleep—not only was the couch not the most comfortable (you did propose to sleep there yourself though) but the words from last night’s arguments are fresh in your mind, popping up in your vision whenever you close your eyes. that’s not to say joshua had a great night either—he probably stayed up hours more than you thinking about all the things he said and why in fuck’s name he let himself say that stuff. he didn’t mean it, but he understands that that’ll be hard for you to believe so he spends all night thinking of ways to approach the situation in the morning. he’s up super early too, and eventually he can’t stand being in the bed without you beside him so he gets up and goes to the kitchen which is attached to the living room that you’re sleeping in. upon seeing you, he adjusts the blanket over your body before quietly making himself a cup of coffee while he waits for you to wake up. it doesn’t take long though, and when you’re pushing yourself up from the couch and rubbing your eyes, joshua is by your side immediately. there’s a thick silence that coats the atmosphere in the room right now as you look at each other, and joshua is the first to speak, “i’m so sorry,” he says quickly, and you want to start crying again at how sad his voice sounds. and well you technically do. your eyes are already starting to water and joshua tentatively brings a hand up to brush the tears away. when you lean in to his touch as opposed to turning away, he takes this as his chance to cradle your head and pull you into a deep hug. you’re wrapping your arms around his torso immediately, basking in his warmth that you’d been craving throughout the night. when he pulls back, he sits on the couch next to you and faces you so he can start talking. you both pick up the same discussion from the night before but much more civil and without the anger and frustration. once the issue is resolved, joshua would be pulling you into his chest again, mumbling endless apologies along the lines of “i don’t know what came over me,” and “i didn’t mean it,” and endless “i love you.” you forgive him of course, but he still spends the rest of the day wary and heeding by your every wish. it’s a little bit endearing, but eventually you have to kiss him and tell him that everything is a-okay and that he doesn’t need to be worried.
jun
he'd feel so bad for pushing the argument to the point that you felt you needed to sleep on the couch that once you were asleep, he'd make a makeshift bed on the ground in front of the couch to sleep there. when you wake up, you don't even look down, not expecting to find jun in front of you, so you accidentally end up stepping on one of his legs. that has him jumping up from his sleep and it almost causes him to hit his head on the coffee table, but you're quickly throwing out a hand and shielding his forehead from the contact. once jun blinks a few times and realizes what's going on, he looks at you so intensely that you find it extremely hard to maintain eye contact. the air is thick but then jun is pulling himself onto the couch so he can face and you hold your hands in his and he doesn't say anything—you it's because he knows he talked too much the night before and wants you to have to chance to talk, to explain, and to try to reason with him. unlike the night before, he listens and he waits before responding, and now that neither of you are acting in the heat of the moment the conversation flows much more smoothly. the problem that once seemed blaring and hopeless is now being resolved within minutes and jun will pull you so close to him that you think you two might just mold into one. he'd whisper quiet apologies before saying, "also can we like, never sleep in different places ever again? i think that was the worst sleep of my life pretty much ever." you cock an eyebrow. "are you sure it just wasn't because you slept on the floor?' he shakes his head vigorously before responding, "nah, it was all because you weren't next to me." you let out a soft giggle at the corny comment, but jun doesn't give you the chance to make fun of him because he's swooping down to kiss you in no time.
soonyoung
when he wakes up in the morning and you aren’t by his side, it’s like his worst fears have come true—you’ve left him, he thinks. it would take a few moments of him frantically checking under the covers for him to realize that from the noise that’s coming from the kitchen, you haven’t left him and that you’re just probably making some coffee or something. he's scrambling out of bed faster than he can think and you're undeniably a little bit startled when he's barging into the kitchen without warning. he doesn't even wait for a second to approach you but right when he's about to engulf you in a hug the events from the night before are crashing in on him and he pauses, waiting for you to make the final move. when you lean into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, a wave of relief washes over soonyoung, and after holding you for what feels like a good five minutes, he pulls back so he can start spewing out apologies. he's talking so fast that you're mind is racing and after just a few moments you need to tell him to slow down. it doesn't seem to work because he just keeps on talking about how he was so stupid last night and you finally think enough is enough and you decide to shut him up in the only way that you know works: smashing your lips on his. a little unconventional, yes, but it works, and you can see him getting pulled back into the present. "can we have a normal conversation, please soonie?" you ask, and with the way that you're using his nickname, soonyoung will know that everything will, eventually, be okay. you both stand across each other in the kitchen, running over the events from the night before taking things step by step to figure out where it all went wrong. it takes some time, yes, but the issue is eventually resolved—you didn't doubt that this would be how it ended up though, because after all, you could go through hell and back if he was by your side.
wonwoo
you wake up the next morning with his hand draped over your waist, and while you would usually cuddle closer to him, embracing the way he's literally your living heater, this morning is full of thoughts from the night before—you're understandably tentative. you and wonwoo tend to wake up around the same time, so you don't really move much, expecting him to wake up within a few minutes too. you're correct, of course, and within just a few moments he's stirring away, shifting in the bed next to you. it takes both you one more minute before you're escaping your drowsiness, sitting upright to look at each other. the silence that sits between you is uncomfortable to say the least, and you're not quite happy with that. wonwoo doesn't seem too pleased either, and he's the first to speak up. "let's get some breakfast and talk, yeah?" he suggests, and there's no way you can say no. you follow him to the kitchen where you two don't really talk, wonwoo making the coffee and you making some toast. eating in silence, the air is thick and you can't remember the last time things were this awkward between you two. you're so relieved when you're both done eating, finally sitting across from each other at the table to discuss the issue from the night before. on a full stomach and rested mind, both you and wonwoo are much more civil about the way you approach the issue. it's like how you normally deal with arguments (and last night was definitely not normal), but there's the added somberness of the extra mean words you both might have thrown in the night before. the conversation is long and will definitely bring tears to both of your eyes but by the time you're done you feel nothing but relief that it's all resolved and happiness that wonwoo stuck by your side through it all. once you both get up from the table, he'll be striding over to you, pressing you into the wall so he can kiss you fiercely, nearly sucking your breath away, pulling back, he'd rest his forehead against yours and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
jihoon
he's already awake when you wake up, as expected. you realize jihoon isn't in the bed with you when you open your eyes groggily, glancing around your room before hearing some noises come from the kitchen. you take this passing moment as your chance to fall back into the bed, rubbing your eyes and letting all your thoughts from the night before sink in. jihoon will undeniably want to talk this issue out as soon as he finds out you're awake and don't get me wrong—you'd love to do that too—but you just need a moment to collect your thoughts and think about exactly what you'd want to say to him. after you feel like you've thought enough, you're peeling the covers off of yourself and following the noises from the rest of your apartment to finally catch him in the kitchen, cleaning some dishes. he whips his head around immediately when he hears your footsteps, telling you, "let me finish this for a minute and then we can talk." you nod in agreement, sitting yourself down at one of the tall chairs at your kitchen island, waiting for him to finish. once he's done, jihoon pulls up the chair next to you, swiveling it so that he directly face you. "how's your voice?" is the first thing he asks, voice clearly concerned. you purse your lips, realizing that you haven't spoken since last night. when you respond to him, it's not nearly as hoarse as the night before, but it still comes out as a little strained, causing jihoon to frown. he reaches over a hand to interlock his fingers with yours before he encourages you to talk about what's on your mind. once your done with your own long tangent, he follows with his own response. you both kind of go back and forth like this, letting each other speak and comprehend until all of your emotions and thoughts are out in the open. it doesn't take more than half an hour for you both to come to a solution, you feeling more relieved than anything that this issue is out of the way. you're so happy, in fact, that you pull him into a kiss right after jihoon says, "okay, then it's all good now." he's a little taken aback by your immediate forwardness but the blush on his cheeks tells you all that you need to know—he loves you and you love him and that is all that you need, now or ever.
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thegainingdesk · 4 months
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The Grommr Profile of Dorian Grey
Dorian finished the last chicken wing, delicately wiping his hands with a napkin, before dabbing at the sides of his mouth. “And one hundred!” He beamed at the camera, and rubbed his middle, not-so-subtly lifting his t-shirt to reveal taut, flat six-pack abs. “Guess that will sort me until dinner,” he said with a wink to his audience.
He looked at the comments on his livestream. Most were in awe, as usual, at how much he could eat while maintaining his stick-thin figure and classically handsome good looks. Others, frustratingly, accused him of being a fake - of using some contraption or camera trickery to make the food disappear, of editing in CGI food, of bullimia. He'd done live shows, week-long streams, streams in nothing but his boxers, but nothing would ever convince some of his viewers.
One in particular caught his attention: lol, why are you all commenting like he'll respond? everyone knows he films these over like a week and then edits it together after
Dorian gritted his teeth. “Actually, user WelcomeToMyFistedMind, comment at fifteen thirty-two and eighteen seconds, this is very much live. And actually, I don't think I am done quite yet.” He stood and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a box of two dozen donuts he'd bought for tomorrow's stream. He sat back down and pushed the first one into his mouth, grinning around the custard that oozed out.
Forty-five minutes and twenty-four donuts later, Dorian flashed one last smug grin at the camera and closed twitch. He leant back, lifted up his t-shirt and ran his fingers lazily up and down his treasure-trail, following the center line between his abdominals. Despite the literal pounds of food he'd eaten in the last couple of hours, his stomach was as flat as ever, his twinkish frame showing none of the effects of the food he ate day in, day out.
His channel, MukbangBangYoureDead, had exploded in viewers ever since he started it a few years ago, until he was now one of the most famous mukbangers on the internet. He could not only eat more than all of his competitors, he made it look easy, and all without gaining a pound.
Of course, he had something that they didn't - the deal. He'd been hesitant at first, didn't believe the strange visitor that had come to him one night could or would deliver on its promises. But here he was, years later, making tens of thousands of pounds a month, all without consequence.
Thinking about the deal, he opened Grommr on his phone and brought up his profile. He whistled as he saw the updated weight - 576 pounds. He'd been flirting with 570 for a while now, and was pleased to see how far he'd stepped over that threshold. Time, he thought, for an update for his loyal fans on that platform too.
He pulled his trousers off and threw them to the side, leaving his t-shirt on. He walked to the mirror and admired his toned, pencil-like legs, his lightly muscled arms, the way his t-shirt draped from broad shoulders and tight pecs over his narrow waist, and his large bulge constrained by a designer jock-strap in bright yellow. He raised his phone up and took a picture, and proceeded to take his shirt off. He raised one hand to a lightly-haired pec and gave it a squeeze as he took a second picture. Finally, he lay down on his bed, snaked some long-slender fingers into his waistband, and raised his phone to take another photo from above.
He uploaded the pictures to Grommr without even looking at them - he knew there'd be no point, that they'd look completely different in just a moment or two. They appeared one by one as they uploaded.
Each showed a behemoth of a man. In the first the man stood in a mirror, wearing a t-shirt that cut into fat hanging from his sides and strained to cover large, pendulous breasts. His gut hung out and down, covering his genitals - a small pop of yellow beneath his love handles was the only hint that he was wearing any underwear. The man's face was huge and round, his features almost amorphous. Small, piggy eyes sat above bulbous cheeks, which merged into a ring of fat around his head, his chin a mere dimple in the fat around his neck. Even in the still image, it was clear that the man's arm was straining against its own weight to hold the phone up.
The next photo was much the same. The same morbidly obese figure stood in the same mirror. This time, the pitifully small t-shirt had been discarded to reveal cascading flesh hanging to the side, lying on the mountainous belly. One hand grasped one of the tits, bloated fingers digging into the soft flesh.
In the next, the figure was laid prone. Gravity had pulled down on the soft flesh and caused it to drop down and pool around the figure. The moobs lifted up towards the man's non-existant neck and chin, his gut spread out, his face expanded in all directions. New rolls and folds had formed - where arm met shoulder, where joints bent, or where his gut bunched up against itself. In the brighter lighting, painfully red stretch marks bloomed across the man's skin, circling his thighs, his love handles like loaves, across his dropping breasts. The man's left hand struggled to reach around his gut to grasp at the waistband of a straining jock strap, within which a small bump suggested some long-forgotten nub of a cock, sunk deep within the fat that spilled out around the underwear’s pouch. The man’s face was red, and seemed to strain as he struggled to maneuver his own flesh.
Dorian watched on in boredom as the first few comments rolled in. The usual adoring fans, begging to know the secrets to his titanic weight, proclaiming they’d soon look the same, asking to meet up. He would wait until a few of his regulars sent their customary tips, then go on with the rest of his day. In the meantime, a couple of the comments caused a smile to spread across his angular face.
MayContainDonuts: MealWithTheDevil looking great as ever! I don't know what it is, but he always looks so much like that one mukbang guy? Obviously fatter, but just the eyes and nose and stuff? I wonder if they're related?
BloatGoat: Do you mean MukbangBangYoureDead? If you can find some of his old photos the resemblance is uncanny. People used to think they were the same person but obviously not. Definitely could be related!
Dorian smirked and went to close the app, stopping only to check a small notification that popped up at the top of his screen. There would be routine server maintenance the next day, and the site would be down for around eight hours, starting mid-morning for the UK.
Dorian sighed. He hated server shutdowns, and this would be the longest he'd experienced yet. Still, he had a while to prepare. He'd have to cancel some lunch plans, but he could make up some lie about being ill. He got dressed, stood up and left to go buy enough food for tomorrow.
Dorian paced around his flat nervously the next morning. He checked his watch - 10:01. He quickly tried to bring up Grommr - sure enough, he was met with an error message about the server being down. It would start soon enough.
The first sign of it was his t-shirt. Previously loose, after about five minutes he found he was having to fuss with it to get it to sit right. another five minutes and it had begun riding up around puffy lovehandles and a firm paunch, while his sweatpants were starting to slip down an expanding rear. Another ten minutes and he took the t-shirt off, freeing a large beer gut that bounced when he walked. His sweatpants had grown almost skin tight around hefty thighs and would soon be too tight for comfort. He knew that this was only the start.
The hunger started then; sickly, stabbing pains in his newly expanded gut. He put two pizzas in the oven and sat with a donuts while he waited, knowing that soon his body, and his appetite along with it, would soon be able to accommodate all the food.
Just under thirty minutes in, Dorian's gut started to rest on his lap when he sat. He leant back, the swollen sack of fat at his middle dragging along his lap as he did so, and his cock began to harden. He reached a hand up to scratch the pink stretch marks beginning to form below his budding moobs.
While stuffed to the point of breathlessness just five minutes before, his stomach was still expanding, and he could feel the gnawing hunger begin to creep back in. He belched and stood, tottering slightly at the near-total shift in center of gravity since he’d sat down. He peeled off his sweatpants, struggling past his wide arse and flabby thighs, then gathered as much food as he could in his arms, using the top of his gut as a shelf and cautiously made his way back to his sofa, where he collapsed down, put on a trashy movie, and continued to eat.
Dorian continued to grow as his pile of junk food diminished. He savoured the feeling of soft, supple skin sliding past skin as he swelled - his growing tits pouring out onto his behemoth gut, his underbelly coursing forwards across rotund thighs dimpled with cellulite, his fat pad oozing around his perpetually hard dick. He knew to wait though; the bigger he was, the hotter his eventual orgasm would be.
Dorian looked down and surveyed himself. His body was beginning to be defined by rolls upons rolls. He estimated himself to be around the size he reached last time there was some server downtime; his profile had put on at least a hundred pounds since then. He lifted a heavy arm and used a hand to probe his plush flesh, sighing at the way his newly chubby fingers sank into the fat.
Still, the hunger increased. Dorian tried to lean forward to grab his phone, but found his own sheer bulk resisted him, pushing him back. He spread his legs and allowed his gut to fall down between them, the shift pulling his body forward in his seat and causing a dull ache in his lower back. He picked up his phone and with clumsy sausage-like fingers brought up a delivery app. He allowed instinct and hunger to take over - spring rolls, beef, chilli beef, sweet and sour chicken, duck pancakes, chilli chips, everything he saw he was ravenous for. He'd not been this big before and the hunger was deep. He pressed order, only briefly worrying about how he'd answer the door when he had no clothes that could hope to fit him.
Dorian’s body continued to expand. There was an alienness to his new size; his thighs had to splay around his hanging gut, his arms sat uncomfortably on top of thick pillows of fat at his sides, each joint filled with lard, and most of all was the awareness of gravity, how it pulled at his body and how his body answered in kind by dropping down and down.
Half an hour of nagging hunger later, his doorbell rang. He threw himself forward, but fell back to the sofa. Even that unsuccessful effort left him winded. He rolled to the side, fat cascading over fat as he did so, and staggered to stand sideways, his arms shaking as he heaved with all his might against the sofa. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over him; it barely covered his torso, but it was the best he could do.
How had he never realised how easy walking was before? Now, every step needed to be purposeful and required a conscious effort to propel his weight forwards. He had to wheel each thigh out and around past the other, each one a lead weight to be lifted. Dorian reached the door panting and sweaty, his hips burning with the beginnings of pain. The delivery driver looked on in shock, and then in slow horror. Dorian didn't care, he just grabbed his bags and slammed the door, before making his slow way back to his seat.
As he fell back, the sofa made a loud crunching sound and he felt himself sink deep into the cushions. He shuffled over the other side as best he could, each movement sending shockwaves across his body. He piled his bags into the crater left on the other side of the sofa and ate directly out of them, the table now wholly unreachable.
Dorian suspected he stopped growing around the time that he'd finished his food. If nothing else, the hunger had stopped. His torso had become a series of rolls, each one wrapped around his entire body and piled on top of the next. His limbs had become huge sacks of flesh, spreading out beneath him, the only evidence of his joints small, soft dimples in the thick casing of his body.
Dorian knew he'd waited long enough now. He pushed a stubby paw into the deep fold underneath his gut, reaching for the hard nub of his cock not yet swallowed by his fat pad. It was no use however, the heavy weight of his belly pressing down and closing off his own groin from himself. He leant to the side and spread his thighs, freeing up access and shifting his weight off from his lap, but still his fingers had to squirm past sweaty flesh into the small crevice left of his crotch. He grasped at the hard head of his cock, finding it in a shallow depression of flab nestled in dense pubes. With two fingers he did his best to jerk himself off, but to no avail - there was simply not enough cock left and not enough space to handle it in. Desperate for release he began to thrust, rocking his pelvis back and forth, so that the thick shaft of his penis slid within his own blubber, fucking his own body. He closed his eyes and ignored the tortured groans of the sofa below him as his pleasure grew. It only took a few minutes for him to cum, semen coating his fat pad and thighs as he yelled out.
Dorian slumped back, gasping for air, and exhausted, drifted off into a sleep.
When he woke up, it was dark. He could still feel the weight of his body pulling down. This wasn't right. As slow as it took for the weight to pile on, usually it melted away in seconds once the servers were back online, which should have happened hours ago. He checked the time - 23:24. Had something gone wrong?
He checked Grommr - the site was back up. He tried to log in - nothing. App - no. Browser - no. He tried to type his password in again, fat fingers mashing against the keyboard so that he had to try again slowly, deliberately. Nothing worked. He felt his heart pounding somewhere beneath his bosom.
Finally, he noticed an email in his inbox.
Grommr admin team - lost profile
During our recent scheduled server update, a small number of user profiles were unfortunately lost. We are sorry to tell you that your profile was one of those that we have not been able to recover. We are doing everything we can to recover lost profiles, but we are sadly not…
Dorian stopped reading. He looked down at the acres of flesh that were now his body. He lifted an arm up and let it fall, watching it shake and wobble in the dim light. What would he tell his family? His friends? His fans? This couldn't be happening.
Through his panicked breathing and heavy heartbeat, another feeling began to grow - Dorian Grey was beginning to feel hungry.
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pablitogavii · 5 months
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Hey can i request one where the reader wears a white dress and Pablo stars to imagine her in a wedding dress….😊
I like this one hehe🤍🤍
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Pablo's POV
We were spending my weekend off at a lake house, just the two of us and it was perfect. I know that due to my crazy schedule, I don't get to be a present boyfriend all of the time but in moments like these my girl has all of my attention.
"Are we gonna go swimming, amor?? Should I bring my swim trunks...?" I walked out looking at the sitting at the edge in that beautiful white dress staring at the water.
She always looked like a character from a movie to me, especially observing her form afar like this became my favorite sport.
"Hm??" she turned around looking towards me with that charming smile and I couldn't help but fantisize about her in a wedding dress by my side one day. She would make such a beautiful bride...🤍
"Que pasa contigo? You're looking at me like it's the first time you see me,, cariño??" she giggled walking up to me and snaking her little arms around my shoulders as my protective ones wrapped around her waist out of instinct. I always felt like protecting her!!
"Is that a new dress nena??" I asked and she smiled looking down at herself while nodding her head moving backwards a little and giving me a little spin.
"Si!! Do you like it Pablito?" she asked looking up at me curiously as I smiled pulling her back into my embrace with a proud smirk on my face. She never had to ask if I like anything on her..everything was just perfect!!
"You look stunning..like always amorcito..but seeing you in a white dress makes me think about things more" I said and she moved her head to the side clearly confused with what I meant by this. She was so cute when her eyebrows furrowed on top of ehr forehead like that.
"What things??" she finally asked a long awaited question and I tucked a strand of her wild curly hair behind her ear adming her beauty for a few more peaceful seconds befoer answering.
"Hmm..what you would look like in a wedding dress for me??" I said and her face immediately blushed making me chuckle at her cuteness.
"Pablitoo!!" she whined hiding her gorgeous face into my chest making me chuckle and caress her head ever so gently.
"Que es princesaa!!" I say it back making her giggle into my chest still refusing to look up at me. Aii que cariña!!
"Look up at me..let me see that carita linda, porfavor" I said trying to move but she only held tighter making me laugh until finally able to lift up her chin and make her meet my eyes again.
"You can't say stuff like that!!" she said and I smirked leaning down and kissing her lips passionately while holding onto her face not letting her go anywhere.
"Hmm I can say stuff like that..because one day, you will be my bride princesa..and I will buy you the most beautiful white dress in the whole word to wear for our wedding..and then I'm going to be the only one to take it off your beautiful body during our first night at the honeymoon.." I whispered the last part into her ear feeling her shiver making me proud of the effect I held over her..my good little girl.
"Hm..bueno" she answered kissing me back as we just stood there making out like we were the only two people left in the planet Earth..no care in the world.
IK it's short but I hope you like it hehe. What a cute idea!!
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Secret Secret Chapter 5
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OT8 Straykids x reader, ABO AU
Masterlist | Part 4
Sooyoung realized it immediately when she walked in.
“Oh wow, someone’s in preheat.”
You sighed. “Is it that noticeable?”
She dropped her bag on the counter. “Honey, it smells like you took a shower in unicorn pee.”
“Unicorn pee?”
“I can’t imagine anything else smelling so good and yet so overwhelmingly bad,” she said with a shrug, turning to rummage around the cabinets. “You going to take the day off when your heat hits?”
“Oh, um.” You shrunk down in your seat on the couch. “Not exactly.”
The alpha paused, turning around slowly with narrowed eyes. “What did you do?”
“Look, hear me out,” You started. “It’s only Monday. My heat will probably hit on Thursday, and then I’ll have to call in sick for two days.”
“Wow, two days off work. How tragic,” Sooyoung said sarcastically, still standing with her arms crossed.
You gave her a look. “However, if I can hold off my heat until after work on Friday, I can ride my heat out during the weekend. No need to call in sick at all!”
“Right. And go back to work immediately after your heat?”
You could tell that her alpha wasn’t pleased with the idea of you working after such a harsh experience. Most omegas took at least a few days off after their heat to recover, but it wasn’t impossible for you to function the day after.
Betas wouldn’t need a day off to recover.
“It’s only my second week at this job, Youngie. I can’t afford to be using up my sick days so soon!”
“And yet I know for a fact that you’ll use some other excuse the next time your heat comes up.” She paused, narrowing her eyes as she realized something. “Wait. The only way you’ll manage to delay your heat is with suppressants.”
You looked down.
“You know how badly those affect you!”
“It’s only two days!”
Sooyoung threw her hands up into the air. “Fine, you know what? Do what you like. You’re a grown adult capable of making her own stupid decisions. But don’t come crying to me at the end of the day when those symptoms wreak havoc on you.”
You watched through silent fury as your roommate practically stomped to her room. The door slammed loudly behind her, and you were tempted to comment on it just to get the last word in, but you held your tongue.
In reality, you knew she had every right to be worried. Heat suppressants were normally only used for emergencies, not because they had any negative consequences on the body itself, but because the symptoms were so horrible that no normal person would willingly subject themselves to them unless they absolutely had to.
Headaches, fatigue, heightened senses, heat flashes, brain fog, stomach cramps. Heat suppressants forced the production of pre-heat hormones and suppressed the actual heat from happening for a short period of time, but, as an unfortunate side effect, it enhanced all the pre-heat symptoms and dialed them up to a 100.
Compared to the milder heat symptoms (slick production and high libido) it seemed odd to want to endure two days of all that. But your heat would make your scent so strong, to the point that your scent blockers wouldn’t work anymore, so it was a necessity.
At least that’s what you told yourself.
-0-0-
You weren’t sure what to expect from the Alpha you were bringing home. The entire ride in his car, besides giving out directions, nothing was said between the both of you. Even now, awkwardly standing in your kitchen, he looked like he was losing the motivation he originally had, and you wondered if you would end up being left high and dry.
“Do you want some water? Or something else to drink?” You leaned against your counter, hoping that a simple conversation would help him relax.
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? You look like your seconds away from bolting.”
“Ah, am I that obvious?” He let out a chuckle, reaching up to scratch at his forehead. “I’ve never really done something like this before.”
You tilted your head in interest. “Oh? What makes me so special?”
He didn’t say anything at first, instead choosing to move forward until he was leaning against the other side of the counter. The two of you were close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted, but part of you was curious to see if he would make the first move.
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.
“You sure it’s not my charmingly good looks?” You said it jokingly, but he rested his chin against his hand.
“No, it’s something else. Something … special.”
You felt your omega perk up at the compliment, and you could smell your scent begin to grow. You pulled back from the counter to stand up straight. If things were going to progress any further, you needed to take this back to your room. You didn’t want Sooyoung to have to deal with the scent of arousal lingering in the communal areas.
“Well then, mr. charmer. How about we take this to my room?” You held out your hand, and he took it.
His hand was warm and heavy in yours.
You opened up your bedroom door, and you found yourself staring at his ass as he passed. “What’s your real name anyways?”
“My real name?” The alpha looked around your room with a thoughtful look. “It’s not that important.”
You raised your eyebrows” What do I call you, then?”
“Hmmm.” You couldn’t see his face through his mask, but the way he gazed at you made you feel like you were being stripped apart to your bare bones, and you could imagine the curl of his lips. “You can call me Alpha.”
His scent began to come out stronger, like a breeze on a hot day, and you found yourself hoping it would linger long after he was gone.
You shut the door.
“Well, alpha,” You said, deliberately drawing the word out. “You going to wear that mask all night?”
He seemed to grow almost … shy. “I- actually, I think I’d prefer to keep it on.”
“It’s okay,” You assure him, not wanting him to feel insecure.
“I mean, I do want to kiss you,” He started, taking a step towards you. You could see the moment he hesitated to reach out to you, his hand dropping down to his side in a clenched fist. “If you want, that is.”
You let out a bark of laughter. “Oh sweetie, I’m pretty sure inviting you over was an invitation for much more than just a little kiss.”
This time he didn’t stop himself from reaching out to you, his hands lingering on your waist as his eyes flittered across your space. You reached up for his mask, the idea of kissing him the only thing you can think of. You wanted to know what he looked like. How soft his lips would be.
He grabbed your wrist. “I can’t let you see my face.” He sounded almost regretful.
“It’s okay,” You reassured him once more. “I can close my eyes.”
And you did. You stood there, eyes closed, and let your smile grow as he dropped your wrist, the sound of fabric shifting in front of you. For a second, he left you waiting. You didn’t open your eyes, but you did reach out to place your hand against his bare jaw.
His lips were as soft as you hoped they would be.
Your hands roamed down from his face to his neck, using your grip on his to pull him closer. It felt like he was inhaling your very essence, His scent covered you, and you moaned against his lips as his body pressed against yours. He smiled, lips still pressed against yours.
You pulled away from the kiss, but immediately pushed your face into his shoulder to keep yourself from the temptation of opening your eyes.
“You good?”
“I think it’s going to be a little hard to remember to keep my eyes close if you keep kissing me dumb like that.”
His chest rumbled as he laughed, grip on your waist tightening. “Sorry?”
“Hmmm, it’s not a complaint. Just an observation.” You pulled out of his hold completely, waving your hand in his direction. “Turn around for a second.”
You didn’t wait to see if he did as you asked, moving towards your closet with a goal in mind. It took a little bit of rummaging in the farthest corner of one of your drawers, but eventually you managed to find what you were looking for. You pulled it out with a shout of triumph.
“Is that a blindfold?”
“Yup!” You slapped a hand over your eyes and turned around, wiggling the cloth out in front of you. “Genius, right?”
“You just happened to have that lying around?”
The cloth was pulled out of your hands, and you turned around. “What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”
Warm arms wrapped around your waist. The heat of his body was hot against your back, and as his hands began to trace up and down your sides, you felt something in you shifting. You shuddered, body responding by releasing a wave of your scent, and he responded with his own scent of arousal that made your body feel almost pliant.
“So you are.” The blindfold was pulled over your eyes, and you shut them instinctively. The cloth brushed over your eyelids as he began to form a knot at the base of your head. “Tell me if it’s too tight.”
Your mind began to grow heavy as your omega pushed forward, the smell of alpha heavy on your tongue. When he finished tying off the blindfold, he leaned against your back, his mouth pressing a soft kiss to the juncture of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, an ache to feel his teeth pressing against the skin running through you and causing slick to drip down your thighs.
You let out a whine.
“Easy baby girl. I got you.”
His warmth disappeared, and you opened your eyes. The blindfold made it so that you could make out the shadows of the dark room, a vague shape of a person as they removed their clothes. You reached down to grab the hem of your own shirt.
“No, don’t,” He said, voice thick. “Let me.”
You grabbed his hands, using your newfound sight to reach out wrap your hands around his neck. This time, you were the one to initiate the kiss, eyes falling closed not out of necessity but on instinct.
“You okay?” He asked you again when your knees suddenly buckled.
“Like I said. Those kisses of yours are dangerous,” you breathed out.
He decided to take it as an invitation to pull you back in for another kiss, although this one was quicker and sweeter.
It almost felt like love.
His lips pressed against yours once, twice, and then a third time before he trailed them down to your jaw, sliding them slowly down to your neck. When he began to suck against the skin there, you pulled away with a whine.
"No marks, please. I have work."
He moved his hands under your shirt and began to pull it up. You could only barely see his figure as he leaned down, his lips reappearing against the tops of your now exposed breasts.
"I assume you mean no marks where they can be seen?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm." He pressed a kiss to your skin, tongue darting out to glide from the tops of your breast towards your nipples. He teasingly pulled against them as he passed, moving to press another kiss just to the side. "Is this okay?"
"Yes," You said, voice breathless.
He pulled your shirt off completely, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He began to lead you towards the bed. Even without your sight, the mattress was familiar under your body, and you instinctively relaxed into the sheets.
You made grabby hands at him. He laughed, kneeling on the bed next to you and allowing your hands to roam across his skin. He still had on his boxers, and when you moved to pull them down, he grabbed your hands and pressed them gently down against the bed.
“Patience,” He told you, his voice rumbling.
You pouted, and he kissed your lips with another laugh. He continued where he had left off, his mouth on your breasts as his hands grabbed your thighs, pulling them apart so he could slot himself in between them. The motion pressed his clothed cock against your center, and you moaned at the feeling.
“Please,” you found yourself breathing out.
His mouth trailed kisses down your body, hands swiftly pulling both your pants and underwear down in one go. “Got to get you ready first, sweetheart.”
“Awfully confident in yourself, huh?” You joked.
“Hmm, something like that,” He drawled.
You expected him to get straight to it, but he took his sweet time. Laying kisses along your inner thigh, caressing your legs up to your hips. You wiggled your hips impatiently, but he just smiled against your skin.
“You’re doing a really good job at getting under my skin,” You told him, running your fingers through his hair. “If you don’t hurry up, I might just have to get myself off.”
He nosed your center, and your body flared up with want. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“Alpha, please.”
“That’s it.” He rewarded you by finally mouthing at your core, licking a stripe up to your clit where he sucked gently.
You were already wet with slick from all the teasing and foreplay, but his mouth on you made you gush, your core clenching around nothing, When he pressed a finger into you, you bucked your hips, and he laid a hand across your stomach to keep you from moving.
You let out a moan, fingers gripping his hair tightly as he ate you out. He added another finger, and the sound was filled with wet squelching sounds as he fingered you gently, softly crooking his fingers to press against your spongey insides as he sucked against your clit.
Your orgasm built up slowly, but it hit you quicker than you expected, your body writhing under him as you whined. He pulled away, his other hand reaching up towards his face, and you could only imagine the sight he made.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he said, finger rubbing small circles against your clit. “Could stay here forever.”
“Please, alpha,” You whined.
“Please what?”
“I need you.”
He moved up your body. “Need me to what?”
“I want you to fuck me,” You said impatiently.
He grabbed your body and flipped you over so quickly that it made your head spin, and you pressed you forehead to your pillow with a gasp, “Ask and you shall receive,” He told you, and you could feel him moving around behind you.
You lifted your hips and presented for the alpha, your omega instincts taking over. His scent intoxicated you, filling your senses and making you feel dizzy, wanting nothing more than to submit to him in every way possible.
He took his sweet time once again, rubbing his member through your folds before he slowly pressed into you. He was right to have prepared you because he was thick, stretching you and filling you up completely. You couldn’t even moan, like your breath had been stolen. Your fingers dug into your blankets, eyes shutting behind the blindfold.
“Fuck.”
The alpha gave you a second to adjust once he had bottomed out, rubbing against your sides gently. “You good, omega?”
“So good,” You mumbled.
When he started to move, it made you whine. He thrust into you slowly at first, but his hips began to speed up slowly, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. You let out a moan as his fingers gripped your thighs, sure to leave marks. You pressed your knees against the mattress and moved to sit up, hands reaching behind you in an attempt to feel his skin against yours. He pressed himself to your back without having to be asked.
His warm breath against your shoulder, mouth teasingly close to your scent gland, had you reaching your release quickly.
You let out a whine.
“Shh, I got you,” he whispered into your ear. His hands roamed from your thighs up your chest and towards your neck, fingers gently pressing against your throat. “God, you’re so tight.”
You whined. “Alpha, please!”
“Just a little longer. You can hold on just a little longer, cant you? Hmm? Don’t you want to be good for your Alpha?”
You were so close. Your body felt like it was on fire and your head spun, the darkness that seemed to engulf you left your nerve endings so sensitive, and you couldn’t see him, could think, couldn’t do anything more than accept the pleasure he was giving you. He seemed to know that you were at your breaking point, because as a whine began to build in your throat, he pulled away.
His fingers pressed right where you needed them most, and you found yourself spiraling.
“Cum for me, Omega.”
You woke up with a start, your mind still heavy with lust and sleep. It took you a moment to realize that you had been dreaming, and then you were falling back to your bed with a groan, swiping a hand down your face.
It was your memories from that night with Chan.
It seemed like your pre-heat sex dreams were making their appearance. Usually they were some random fantasies, but you supposed it made sense that you would be hit with a memory this time around.
Your thoughts wandered to the shirt still in your drawer. It almost seemed to be calling for you.
You let out another groan.
This was going to be a long week.
-0-0-
You were convinced that heat suppressants had to have been created as a form of torture.
The headache made every noise feel like a punch to the brain, not helped by the fact that your hearing was so sensitive that everything above a cough sounded like an airhorn to your brain. Even the painkillers you took that morning were doing little to dull the hammering in your head.
And yet, you tried your best to keep a smile on your face, made ever difficult from having to deal with the managers.
You had been thrown for a loop when you found out on Tuesday morning that Felix had gone into heat. It was all the staff members were talking about. You hoped that the idol’s heat and rut cycles weren’t normally a topic of interest for the company, but you understood why this time they all were freaking out about it.
Stray Kids’ comeback was scheduled for next week.
It would be hard for you to have to go back to work the day after your heat ended, but finding out that Felix was expected to be on stage and promoting less than a week after his almost made you feral.
“What do you mean the comeback will continue as planned?”
Jeonhui gave you a hard look. You knew that as a new employee, and only a translator who was in the meeting to be kept up to date with the upcoming schedule, the idea of speaking out was unheard of. But when the news that the comeback would still be happening on the expected date, your mouth opened before your brain could catch up.
The head manager, Soojin, gave you a puzzled look. “Is there a reason we shouldn’t?”
The entire room was looking at you, but you forced yourself to focus only on the manager. “Felix finished his heat less than a day ago.”
“Yes?”
“Even for a normal person, a comeback is stressful. Long nights, early mornings, practices and schedules and stage performances and interviews … do you really think that’s the best thing for an omega who just had their heat to deal with?”
There was a moment where Soojin looked almost understanding, his eyes soft and a small smile on his face. You thought that you might have actually gotten through to him. You thought for a second that maybe you could make an impact on this company, give them some knowledge of the artists they were supposed to be managing and caring for, and that you could actually change the way the industry worked.
But it shattered with his next words.
“I appreciate the concern, but I assure you our omega’s can handle the load just fine. We’ve had both omegas and alphas going back to work right after heats and ruts, and there’s never been a complaint in the past.” The other staff managers nodded along as if what he was saying was common knowledge. “If they needed more time to recover, they would have said something.”
You thought about the pressure building in your head, the way your skin felt like it was crawling, the constant cramped pain your stomach was enduring, all so that you wouldn’t go into heat. All so you could keep pretending to a room full of betas.
All so that those same betas could make decisions about omega’s and alphas they knew nothing about.
It made you want to scream.
“Maybe,” You managed through clenched teeth. “They never say anything because they know that if they do, the company would use it as proof that omegas are more trouble than their worth.”
Soojin and the other managers gave you a surprised look. From the corner of the room, Maya was given you a proud smile, but the other stylists around her looked confused and even annoyed.
“Why do you care so much about this anyways? What are you, an omega expert?” One of them said.
And his words felt like a bucket of water had been dumped over your slightly overheated body. You immediately bowed your head, realizing that you had brought more attention on your head than was necessary, and it was obvious you were fighting a losing battle.
“I’m just … worried. Just seems like those boys could use some rest,” You mumbled in excuse.
Stupid. How could you be so stupid.
Now everyone would know you as that one translator who argued about an omegas needs. At best they would think you were out of line, but at worst …
“It’s quite alright,” Soojin assured you, although the look Jeonhui gave you told you that the two of you would be talking later. “But like you said, comeback is stressful for all of us, including the staff. This is why we put in all the hard work! I want to take a moment to thank all of the staff for helping make this a possibility-“
And just like that, your little outburst seemed to be forgotten.
It didn’t make you feel any better to know that your words were so easily dismissed. As Thursday turned into Friday, you made the conscious decision to not take your heat suppressants that morning, knowing you would need your heat to start either than night or early Saturday morning if you wanted your heat to end by Sunday night.
You ignored the looks Sooyoung gave you as you left for work.
Just as promised, you had been avoiding her all week. When the cramps hit you late at night and you cried out, you muffled the sound with your pillow to avoid waking her. She didn’t mention the quickly dwindling supply of pain medication (you reminded yourself to pick some up after work).
It made a part of you ache to know you had disappointed your friend. But it also made you feel proud to know that you were still doing what you had dreamed of doing for so long.
You just had to keep moving forward.
Friday went by normally, and almost easier than the past three days. The suppressants started to flush out of your system around noon, and the symptoms you had been dealing with started to fade, making it easier for you to work. The heat symptoms would come around soon, but you weren’t too worried about it hitting you fully until you were back home.
You were just finishing up your last assignment of the day when you caught the scent of a familiar smell.
“Oh no.”
Minho appeared at your doorway within seconds, and you secretly cursed the enhanced sense of smell that had yet to wear off, because the strong scent of alpha had your omega perking her metaphorical ears up instantly.
He had probably just finished dance practice judging by the sweat covered shirt he had yet to change out of.
You forced your eyes away from him and back to your screen. “Can I help you?”
“I’m sorry.”
You paused your typing, risking a glance to look at his face. He looked straight faced, almost bored at first, but you could smell the shame that was hidden beneath the rest of his scent, and you turned to face him completely.
“What are you sorry for?” You asked him.
He looked away. “I yelled at you when we first met. It was … inappropriate.”
“You were protecting your pack,” You corrected him, turning back to your work. “You did what you thought was right.”
Minho continued to stare at you from the doorway, not saying anything. You finished what you were working on and began to wrap everything up so you could leave. In the few minutes it took you to do that, he didn’t say anything.
You grabbed the files you had to drop off to your manager before you left. “I’m serious, Minho. It’s fine.”
When you stood up, a few papers that had been caught under your files fluttered to the ground. Before you could move to grab them, Minho was there, picking up the papers and tapping them on the ground so that they would be stacked up together, lifting his head up to look at you.
And you immediately felt something in your stomach twist, and your head spun.
He stood back up, unaware of your internal freak out, and handed you the papers. You took them with shaking hands.
“Thanks,” You breathed out.
Minho frowned. “Are you okay?”
No, you wanted to scream at him. I’m going into heat and a stupidly handsome alpha was on his knees looking up at me and now I’m losing my goddamn mind.
But instead, you forced a smile on your face. “Fine.” It came out squeaky, and you winced. “I, uh. Gotta go!”
You rushed out of there as quickly as you could.
As if your day couldn’t get any worse, you completely missed an equally sweaty and tired looking Chan as he was walking out of the elevator, and he had to grab your shoulders to keep you from running him over. His scent, equally as strong, only made your chest ache more.
Chan smiled. “Ah, just who I was looking for!”
You eyed him curiously. “Wow, I’m really popular these days, huh?”
“What?”
“What did you need?” You asked him as you walked into the elevator. He followed you in.
“I wanted to let you know that I talked with Felix.”
“Oh, how is he, by the way? I heard about what happened.”
Chan gave you a soft smile. “Ah, he’s fine. He …. He wants to meet with you.”
The elevator opened, and someone stepped in. It was a random staff member you didn’t recognize, probably not even a stray kid’s staff member, but both you and Chan remained silent until she left. You turned to Chan as the elevator made its way up to your manager’s floor.
“I think we should wait until after your comeback,” You told him.
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Chan sighed. “We’ll have enough on our shoulders this week.”
You scowled. “Ugh, don’t even remind me.”
He let out a laugh. “Ah, I heard about what you did yesterday.”
You covered your face in embarrassment as the elevator door opened. “Uh, I’m just going to go before I say anything even worse.”
Chan was still laughing as you left, but he called out for you before the doors closed. His smile was one of the last things you saw as his words reached you.
“Thank you.”
69 notes · View notes
phantomtwitch · 9 months
Text
For angstfest! I'm a little late, but here's one for a No One Knows AU.
They’re already moving as soon as he’s gone. 
Tucker grabs Danny’s legs while Sam picks up Danny beneath his arms and shoulders. He’s long past the point of being embarrassed about Sam being stronger than him, and they have to move fast as they drag Danny’s body into an empty classroom nearby. He mutters curses under his breath as the heavy classroom door bounces off his side, and Sam huffs and rolls her eyes. “Drama queen,” she accuses, and he sticks his tongue out at her as they carry Danny’s body the rest of the way inside and the door shuts with a too-loud slam behind them. 
But they’re not worried about the noise attracting attention. Most of the students are staying within their own classrooms, ignoring whatever odd sounds they might hear as the ghost alarm goes off in the background. The harsh, blinking lights cast odd shadows on Danny’s face, making Tucker queasy for a minute as they prop his body up against the wall below the whiteboard. 
“How long?” he asks, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath. 
“Two minutes and forty-five seconds,” she says with a grin as she sits down next to him. “Pretty sure that’s a new record.”
“Nah, we did it in two minutes and thirty-eight seconds last month, remember?” he says as he sits down beside her and starts to unpack his backpack. The defibrillator is buried at the bottom, tucked beneath his things. It’s the smallest one they could find that’s still effective, even if they’re not exactly using it for its intended purpose, and Sam carries another just in case. For a normal person, it wouldn’t be possible to restart their heart and lungs with an electric shock, despite what the movies claim, but for Danny? Electricity is the only thing that works, the only thing that will bind his spirit back to his corpse as it infuses and activates the ectoplasm flooding his blood stream. 
The Fentons could no doubt provide a scientific explanation as to why and how it works, but to Tucker, it’s an odd kind of magic, of horrifying necromancy as they forcibly, painfully force the electricity to run through him again, so similar to the accident that caused this problem in the first place. It’s only by chance that they know it works, having tried the defibrillator hanging on the lab wall in the basement after he came out of the portal and his body fell to the ground as his ghost hovered over it in shock. He didn’t give it much thought the first time. Tucker merely assumed the movies were right and that they restarted Danny’s heart. It wasn’t until later that they learned the truth. 
With practiced ease he pulls Danny’s old NASA t-shirt off, and then scowls as he notices that Danny’s wearing a new necklace with a constellation on it that Tucker probably should know the name of after being Danny’s friend for so many years but doesn’t. “Great. More stuff to take off. Wonder who gave it to him,” he grumbles, twisting it around in his fingers until he finds the clasp and removes it. He checks him over for any more metal and finds none. “How long now?” 
“Four minutes,” says Sam, and he nods. They worry one day it’ll be too long, that there will be no forcibly stitching his soul and body back together, that all will remain is a ghost and the body of a boy who’s been dead for longer than anyone knows. The longest Danny’s ever gone is thirty-three minutes, yet they were still able to bring him back that day even as it seemed to take longer than usual. But there’s no one they can ask for help or advice, no one that’s dealt with this before besides them and Jazz, and none of them trust the Fenton parents enough  to not shoot their own son in the face if they learn the truth. Because so far, at least, when Danny’s back he is alive again. He’s grown a few inches since this started a year ago. He’s been forced to get his usual haircuts, to trim his nails when they get too long. His heart beats within his chest, and he breathes and smiles and laughs like there’s nothing different, nothing wrong, and absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about him.
They shift Danny again, laying him down flat on the floor on his back as Tucker kneels down beside him and sets up the defibrillator and sticks the pads to Danny’s chest. There’s nothing they can do until he returns, so they wait, Tucker drumming his fingers against the side of his leg as Sam continues to glance at her watch every few seconds. “Did you hear that they’re remaking the first Nightmerica movie?” he asks, looking for any distraction he can. 
“Ughh, yeah,” she groans. “Which completely misses the point of why it’s so good in the first place. I don’t want a modern version with modern effects. I want cheesy 80s costumes and music and horror and the chance to cheer as stuck-up cheerleaders get murdered. I mean I guess there’s a chance they’ll keep the original charm, but I doubt it.”
“Yeah, there’s already rumors that they’re casting, like, Scarlett Johanson as Nightmerica,” adds Tucker. “Doesn’t really bode well.”
“Seriously? If she gets cast, I’m just going to nope right out, pretend it doesn’t exist, and hope everyone else does the same,” she says, and then goosebumps erupt across their skin as the temperature in the room drops precipitously as Phantom enters the classroom, phasing through the wall. 
He looks rougher than usual as ectoplasm drips from his arms and chest, deep claw marks gouging through the thin black and white hazmat suit he wears even now. His eyes are consumed with green light, his hair floating over his head and flickering like sparks, and there’s a faint hint of white beneath the dark suit, of the shape of bones even as Phantom is nothing but ectoplasm. “Rough fight?” he asks.
There’s heavy static behind each word. Talking to him like this is almost useless. They can’t understand the ghost speech, the odd echoes and noise and whirring, and trying to teach Danny sign language or morse code or any other method of communication when he’s whole again is worthless, none of the knowledge transferring to his ghostly self, the wall between his two halves too solid for even Phantom to phase through. They don’t know why Phantom is one of the only ghosts that can’t speak without the noise and distortion, that can’t make his words understood, but it’s a truth that’s held fast for as long as Danny’s been like this. 
But Tucker’s gotten better at reading his unnatural body language, the way he twists upside down and curls his tail around himself as his sharp, pointed teeth flash. “Sorry, man,” he says. “I wish you didn’t have to do this.”
They don't know why he feels compelled to fight the other ghosts. They don't even know what triggers the transformation, even as they've come to recognize the warning signs, like the odd vacant stare that sets in, the way Danny’s hackles almost seem to rise as he silently snarls. And it's not as if Danny can tell them.
Phantom whispers something in response, the words still lost in the static, and then he floats over to himself, putting a hand over his own corpse, because as hard as it is for Tucker to think of it that way, he knows, on some level, that’s what Danny's body is without Phantom. There’s no life in it, no presence, no spirit. It’s merely flesh, an empty vessel, and he shudders to think what could happen if another ghost found him like this, if he might be able to possess him somehow. 
"We're at nine minutes," says Sam, and Phantom lets out something like a sigh as he floats back into the corpse. Danny's eyes snap open, green and glowing, and they move quickly.
Unlike the one in the lab that was old and lacked the safety features of most modern AEDs, they had to make a few modifications to this one to get it to work. A modern defibrillator won't let someone shock a body with no heartbeat. Messing with the tech felt dicey, but they couldn't find any other methods to safely deliver a shock to him that wouldn't risk their own safety, too.
The pads are already placed, and he pushes the button, biting his lip as he waits. It delivers the first shock, but aside from a twitch in his shoulders and a confirmation from the AED, there's little to no sign it happened. 
A hiss of soft static, and Tucker understands the meaning despite the noise, a bitter plea for them to do it again. It takes three shocks before they see it, the strange white light around his midsection, and Tucker turns off the AED as he and Sam scramble a few steps back.
The light spreads, eventually too bright for them to bear the sight of it as little arcs of electricity dance along Danny's skin, and when it finally stops he's sitting up, staring vacantly. The daze won't last, but they take this moment to put away the defibrillator, removing the pads from his chest. Tucker puts the necklace back on, his fingers shaking as he snaps the clasp together. Much as he tries to act like this doesn’t bother him anymore, he can’t contain his relief at seeing Danny sitting up again, his chest slowly moving with each breath, his pulse steady beneath his wrist and neck. 
They've just pulled his shirt on when he blinks, and Danny looks down at his hands, wincing as he touches his chest. "I feel like I got run over by the GAV," he groans, and Tucker forces himself to chuckle.
"You might as well have. You hit the floor hard when you fainted," says Tucker. The injuries are never there, but some phantom pain always seems to remain as his ghost heals. "I'm sorry we never manage to catch you, man. I know it’s gotta hurt."
"It's fine," mumbles Danny. "How long was I out?"
"About ten minutes," says Sam. She doesn’t point out that they time this, now, down to the second. It’s not as if timing it changes anything, but it makes them feel better when they revive Danny in under twenty minutes. More than that and they start to worry. Tucker’s still not sure how Danny doesn’t have any brain damage at this point from the lack of oxygen. 
Danny hums, flexing his fingers for a minute as the ghost alarm shuts down. "I . . . Doesn't it seem like this is getting worse? I can't even remember seeing a ghost. I . . . I never can."
"You know this messes with your memory–"
"Yeah, but that makes this seem more like I'm having seizures or something, not fainting. And it's always one of you or Jazz when I wake up, which seems weird, maybe? I just  . . . Maybe we should tell my parents," he whispers, and Tucker's heart aches.
"I don't think that's a good idea–" begins Sam, but he cuts her off.
"--why not?" He looks between the two of them, scowling, his fists now clenched. "What aren't you telling me?"
He and Sam exchange a long look. It always comes to this eventually, yet despite their best efforts, it's pointless. Some part of Danny refuses to hear the truth, to acknowledge that he died or at least half-died in the portal, and within an hour he always forgets they even discussed this at all. They don't know why. They've proven over and over again that they accept him and love him despite how he’s changed. But the wall is still too solid to break through.
They should explain it to Danny again anyway. Tucker knows that. But he's so tired of repeating himself, and he knows Sam is, too. Jazz says his psyche needs more time to process and accept the truth, but it's been a year with no sign of things changing. 
Sam eventually sighs, forcing the words out. She's always been the strongest of the three of them in more ways than one. "A year ago, you had an accident. You were hurt badly, and we saved you, but–"
The door swings open suddenly, and he sees Mr. Lancer there, the relief evident on his face. "Lord of the Flies! Is everyone okay?" he asks as he takes in the sight of the three of them on the floor. At least the AED is back in Tucker's bag and out of sight, since Tucker doubts Mr. Lancer would be willing to ignore what that might signify if he saw it. 
"We're fine," says Sam. "We thought we heard the ghost and hid. I'm sorry we worried you."
"Somehow that always seems to happen with the three of you," he says with a frown, clearly questioning it, but thankfully he doesn't push it further. "But I’m glad that you’re safe, at least, and now that the ghost is gone you three need to get to class."
"Okay." They stand up, and Tucker can see the worry and distrust as Danny clenches his jaw and refuses to look at them as he heads out into the hallway. But that’s not the worst part. No, it’s knowing that by the time lunch rolls around, Danny won’t remember his suspicions or his fears. They’ll be pushed down, slowly hidden beneath the protective part of his mind that refuses to let him know the truth, and instead of questioning why he constantly faints whenever there’s a ghost, why he has strange aches and pains, and why he often sets off his parents’ equipment even when he’s human again, he’ll talk to them about the latest video games and movies and gossip and homework. 
He desperately wants his friend to know the truth. It hurts, even as he knows they’re not lying to Danny about what’s happening, that they’ve tried to explain it before. And despite how naturally taking care of his body comes to him and Sam now, despite knowing the signs that herald Phantom’s emergence, Tucker knows they can’t keep this a secret forever. Inevitably, they won’t be there one day, they’ll miss an obvious sign, or someone like Lancer will walk in a little too soon. And once they learn the truth, he and Sam and Jazz know that Danny will be taken from them as he’s locked away in a lab by the GIW or his parents and becomes some gruesome science experiment, tortured as he can’t even remember the reason why. 
More and more Tucker’s beginning to think they’re running out of time. They need to find a way. They need to get Danny to understand who and what he is so he can protect himself, because Tucker’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the lie, too. 
EDIT: I wrote a Part Two, it's here.
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he-calls-me-kitten · 2 years
Note
can you do the " please me " prompt for the side characters ?
Ohh sure! Looks like we may have to change the storyline a little to make this one make sense but I have just the right idea!
"Please Me"
Dateables x F! MC version
<- Brothers
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"Well that sounds... incredibly fun." Diavolo tried to disguise his evident excitement. "Who knew taking orders could be as interesting as that."
"Indeed, I wouldn't mind being at the receiving end of such demands." Barbatos smiled his signature smile.
"If only angels and humans could make such a pact too." Simeon sighed.
"Well what if I told you, you could?" Solomon smirked, holding up a vial with a dark red liquid. "MC and I were experimenting on it, because I wanted a pact between the two of us."
"What does it do exactly?" Simeon turned the vial delicately, looking at the shimmery fluid dance. A subtle temptation washed over him.
"A temporary pact. It lasts for about a day." Solomon explains. "The first to drink it becomes the master, the next becomes the pet."
"Solomon that's splendid..." Barbatos's eyes widened in wonder. "I don't suppose there are any long-term side effects?"
"I can certainly tell you there are no detrimental side-effects. MC and I have been using this for a while." He assured. Hearing that flared up the tempers and desires of the other three.
"Barabtos, we should invite MC to the castle. Soon." Diavolo cleared his throat. Simeon went a step further. "I believe I've already invited MC over to Purgatory Hall, I should get going."
The red vial greets you when you go visit any of them. You smile and shake your head, trying not to laugh at how desperate they looked as they asked you to drink first. And how eagerly they finsined the second drink.
"I guess I can get straight to the point since you know how it works?" You cup his face and pull him close. "Now, go ahead. Please me."
Simeon
He merely smiles at you before devouring your mouth with his. He's wanted to do this for a while and you can feel it as his tongue desperately laps at your parted lips.
"MC..."
He whispers your name like a prayer, his smooth locks brushed your jaw as he moved to your cheeks and neck. You slip out of your clothes to give him more access.
"Simeon, that tickles..."
He sees the glistening skin of your bosom, that playful smile on your lips. He's going crazy. He's torn between just staring and risking his fall by making you his.
"Does this feel good?" He asks as he buries his head in your soft chest, slowly enclosing his lips around your sensitive nub.
You nod and whimper as his hands crawl up your thighs. But he's certain he's the one being pleased, being allowed to touch you like this.
🥀
Solomon
"I'm the most generous teacher aren't I, MC?" He says. Your naked bodies entangle under his bed sheets.
"Who else gives into all of their apprentice's whims and desires?"
You feel his magic manifest, glowing ropes tie your wrists above your head as he dips his head to kiss lines down your stomach. You arch your back as he bites down at your waist.
At this point, he knows your body even better than you.
"S-solomon." You moan his name and he knows you're ready for him. The ropes grow tighter as he positions himself.
"It's like you were made for me. As I was for you."
He kisses your eyes closed as he slides his length in easily. Your body remembers his shape, molds to it. You wonder if it's magic.
🥀
Diavolo
He looks so delighted to be between your legs, gripping your thighs and pressing tender kisses onto them. How can someone like him possibly be a demon?
"What would you like me to do, MC? I'll do anything. Anything at all."
So eager to please. So easy to tease.
"Take these off. They are in the way." You caress his coat and shirt. He takes it off without hesitation, almost popping a few buttons in the process.
And now he stands in all his glory, his dark skin so lovely, soft and warm against your fingers. You run your fingers over his pecs, squezing and lapping at them. You feel him hiss under his breath. You can see his arousal trying to break out of his pants.
"Wasn't I supposed to pleasure you, MC? And yet you-" He stops mid way as you make him kneel and throw your legs over his shoulders. And after that, he doesn't stop until you're a crying and sloppy mess.
🥀
Barbatos
"I can't believe I finally have the honor to serve you, MC." He bows as you pop bubbles in the bath, staring at him mischievously. Glimpses of your bare skin through the foam are enough to drive him wild.
"You're too overdressed for a bath." You splash water at him, drenching him whole. "Come help me here."
"As my master wishes."
He chuckles as he strips. Oh he can't wait to please you. He'll make sure you'll need to be tended to for the next three days. He can finally indulge in all the greed he hides away so diligently.
"Hush, MC. You're being too loud." You realised your mistake when he had to clamp your mouth shut. You cry out from overstimulation. "Now open up your legs a little more won't you? I'm afraid I haven't completely cleaned it yet."
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JJK- Baby Don’t Cry
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You and Jungkook had been arguing non stop for the better part of the past two weeks, you had forgotten why you were initially angry at one another instead you had both began to find things to dispute every day, each time it progressively putting you both in a worse position.
You were thankful his schedule had gotten busier in the last week, both needing time to clear your head.
You’d been with Jungkook since you were 18 and he was 19, you’d grown together, you’d had your first everything with one another. First date, first adult relationship, first time.
You’d supported him through the past 6 years of his career as he had yours, you’d started your own clothing business, Jungkook had invested into it, you declined at first but he insisted and eventually you gave in, it had succeeded and your own company had 5 stores in South Korea and 3 in Japan.
It hadn’t been easy, you both had always been under a lot of pressure but you made it work, things never got bad. Not until December 17th.
You knew how much Jungkook was worried about the future, the people he had surrounding him were suddenly about to be doing their own things. Of course he could manage without them, he is a full grown man. He isn’t a helpless child but it still hurt when he had to bid goodbye to his eldest Hyung.
For the first month you had both taken time off work to be with one another, you were close with jin. He acted as a big brother to you, always making sure you were okay. He included you in everything just as much as he did his own fiancé.
Jungkook had cried, gotten angry, refused to do anything and then eventually Namjoon came over with Hoseok and whilst they were all sitting there drinking beer and essentially counselling one another the phone rang.
It was Jin.
They all cried when he let out a “jwehope.” As much as they persisted that they had not cried and that the smell of the beer was just strong causing their eyes to water you knew how much it had effected them.
Jungkook because even more distant after that, he would go to the studio and not come home. A few times you’d had to go to collect him only for him to lock the studio door blocking you out.
Two weeks ago it had gotten the worst it ever had, he had missed your anniversary. He had chosen to go live for army and drink with them.
He had told you he was going to but he forgot to mention he would do it on your very own anniversary. You was furious when he stumbled home the next day complaining of a headache an exhaustion.
You felt awful as you took Bam to the vet for a check up that Jungkook was supposed to take him for. You hadn’t mentioned to him just why you were upset, that conversation was best left for when he sobered up.
You hadn’t anticipated that the second he did he would be back to hiding himself away, refusing to be near you, you felt unwanted. You couldn’t understand this sudden change but you knew one thing and that was that you was not going to let him treat you like this.
You sat on the couch, waiting for him to come home. Usually he would be home anytime after midnight so you prepared yourself for a long night.
It was 4am when he walked in the door, hair messy, his clothes wet most likely from the onslaught of rain.
He jumped seeing you sitting on the couch as he slid his shoes off. “You’re awake.”
“Yep, we need to talk.” You continued to stare out of the window even as you spoke to him.
“What’s wrong now?” He ask, slumping onto the couch opposite you.
You pushed yourself further into the grey corner chair that you had brought a few months ago, you found it comforting to sit and watch the city go by. “Us kook.”
“Nothing is wrong with us.” He defended.
You rolled your eyes, shifting to look at him. “Really? We haven’t stopped arguing for weeks, you forgot our anniversary. You are barely home and when you are you don’t talk to me.”
“It’s not like that.” He shook his head, looking guilty. He shuffled over to your side, pulling you closer to him.
You pulled away earning a hurt look from him, normally you’d rush to fix the problem you usually had amazing communication between you but right now all of those well developed skills no longer existed.
You raised your eyebrows In disbelief. “Then what is it?”
“I just feel so scared, I’m so fucking scared all the time. These next two years are planned out but no plans can predict how we will all feel emotionally, they have always been my family and it’s hard seeing them go one by one when they have already been through so much. I’m so fucking scared because soon enough it’s going to be my turn and what about you? You can’t tell me you won’t be here crying when I’m gone. Fuck we have had each other our entire adult lives, I can barely go a month without you, people don’t respect our privacy enough for you to be able to visit me. How do I know you will all be here when I’m back? I’ll be the last to go you could have all easily moved on.” Your heart breaks as his tears drop to the floor, his nose bright red from the crying.
You knew he had been worried, you knew the time apart for you both would be difficult and in all honesty it probably should have been something you both discussed sooner. You suddenly felt guilty, you’d been so caught up in your own worries that you had failed to notice his.
“Kook, baby don’t cry.” You pulled him in for a hug, trying to make him feel as loved as possible. “I know you’re scared and honestly I am too, I know we haven’t spoken about it but I just thought it would be easier to have this conversation closer to the time. I know the members adore you, I know just how special you are to them, bangtan without you is nothing, the same way it would be nothing if even one of you was missing. When it comes to us all I can say is I have been here since I was 18, you remember the day we met? Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would end up falling in love with you the way I did. You were such a brat.” You both chuckled before you continued.
“I’m sure the bowling alley we went to on our first date was minuets away from actually collapsing, I still don’t want to know how you even knew that place existed.” You laughed again, he shuffled you around so you were resting against his chest. The faint sound of his heart beat comforting you. “Do you remember the way you invited me to your music bank performance? You handed me an invitation and walked off, I was so confused. I have never waited so long for something in my entire life but seeing you doing what you loved made me so much more interested in you.”
“Firstly, in my defence Namjoon Hyung had told me about that bowling alley. I argued I should have taken you to an expensive restaurant but Jin Hyung said it didn’t matter where you go with someone, it’s always the person that matters not the place. Besides I don’t remember you complaining about how the date ended.” He pinched your side, making you squirm. “Secondly, I was so nervous to ask you to come I even requested they hand out snacks and water so you would be okay. I didn’t want you to just want Jungkook of BTS. I was nervous you were going to sell me out.”
You turned to look at him, he seemed apologetic but you could understand the pressure he was under to maintain his image. “I never knew if you noticed this but I would always turn my phone off so you didn’t worry.”
“I did, after a few dates it became something I was both aware and thankful for, it’s crazy how we never think back to that time. It’s been years and this is the first time we have revisited our beginning.” He sighed.
You drew a breathe before responding, linking your fingers with his. “We are going to be okay, I’m going to be here waiting for you and so what if I cry in your overly expensive sweatshirts and ruin them all, I’ll be okay because at the end of it all we will have each other. We have always had each other Jungkook.”
You felt him relax behind you at your last sentence, as much as he hated to admit it he too craved reassurance the way you did.
“I don’t want you to regret waiting for me.” He whispered, his voice laced with shame.
You shook your head, climbing off him to reposition yourself. You swung a leg over his lap, placing yourself directly in front of his face. “Jeon Jungkook, I have ran away from paparazzi for you, I hid in a bush when you were approached by fans, we went to dates in the sketchiest places for the first two years because I was too afraid to go to anything remotely high end in fear we would get caught, I cooked an entire three course meal when I first met the members just to make a good impression only for you to bring home pizza. We have gone through tours, not seeing each other for weeks, our only time together being spent sleeping, we have argued and we have made mistakes but every single time it has only reaffirmed that I am utterly in love with you and I would wait an eternity to be with you.”
You lean into his touch as he brings a hand to caress your face, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose and your lips. His breath was hot on your face as he mumbled “I thought I was the luckiest person, I had fame, financial security, amazing friends, the ability to pursue my dreams but it all meant nothing without you, you were the final piece to my puzzle.”
“Much like all of those wonderful things I am not going anywhere, ever. Unfortunately you’re stuck with me.”
He shook his head laughing. “I’d be honoured to be stuck with you.”
You laughed with him but slowly it died down and you was left with your own worries. “Why was you pushing me away? You really forgot our anniversary.”
His face fell, his shoulders sagging. “I felt awful, I was trying to work on my album but nothing was working I genuinely thought it wasn’t for another week ever since jin Hyung left and hobi Hyung started to prepare to go time has gone by weirdly. I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you I am going to do better, I think I was worried so much that you’d leave I started to push you away. I thought at least then I’d be able to prepare myself.”
You lightly smacked his chest. “You are so foolish, you are definitely going to have to make it up to me I am still very mad at you for that but I can understand.”
You knew how hard the last few months were for him. Coincidentally you knew how much of a perfectionist your boyfriend is so you knew he would make it up to you in the most extra way ever.
“What If I buy you a house?” He raises an eyebrow.
“We have a house” you retort.
He hums. “What if I buy you a car.”
“I don’t have my licence.” You laughed.
“What if I buy you a cardboard cut out of me, I see a video of an army with one in her room. You can hug that when I enlist.” He raises his hands as if to defend from an attack as he laughs.
You scowled at him rolling your eyes. “Why would I need a cardboard cut out? I climb into bed with you every day, besides I’m sure my imagination can muster up enough material.”
“You’re such a tease, I’ll make it up to you, you know that right?” He pulls you closer to his chest, his arms feeling like a safe barrier around you.
“I know you will. You know we will be okay? We will figure it out together. Always have and always will.” You smile, knowing that with him everything would all be okay.
“I’m sorry for being so emotional, I know I should have just talked to you. I know we will be okay.” For some reason you find comfort in his reaffirmation of your beliefs.
You pull back, your hands falling to the side of his face as you pull him in for a kiss. “Never ever apologise, you’ve gotten me through my worst and I will you.”
“Don’t cry baby.” He whispers mimicking your earlier words as he brushes away a tear that you had unknowingly shed.
“We will be okay.”
“Always will be.”
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acewritesfics · 26 days
Text
Beautiful | Jax Teller 
Pairing: Jax Teller x Winston!Reader 
Request: No. Find original here -
Synopsis: Jax takes his old lady out for the night.  
Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, swearing, talks of body parts, mentions of dressing and undressing. This was originally a Song-fic. H/C - Hair Color. E/C - Eye Color
Word Count: 2,186
Main Masterlist
Jax beams as he watches the woman he's madly in love with hurry around their bedroom, dressed in her black lace bra and panties set, that just so happens to be his favorite, oblivious to him standing there, focused on trying to decide what to wear. His eyes scan her body, stopping on her ass, admiring his third favorite part of her body. 
He never imagined falling in love with Y/N Winston, the younger sister of his best friend, but something changed when she left for college. When Y/N left Charming for college, she was just Opie's annoying little sister; but, when she returned four years later, it seemed as though she had completely changed. She was now a woman, not a girl. 
Y/N settles on a pair of skintight black jeans and a flowing deep crimson tank top. On the bed, she has her leather jacket that he gifted her for her 21st birthday, laying next to her jeans.  She eventually catches him standing there as she slides her legs into her jeans.  She pulls on her top as he enters the bedroom, a bit disappointed that his second favorite part of her body was now also hidden from him. 
After giving him a short kiss, she walks over to her dresser and gathers up her make up bag and hair brush. "I thought we were going to meet up at the clubhouse?" 
"Church got out a little early," he muttered, his eyes following her as she entered the ensuite connected to their bedroom. He observes her brushing her H/C hair as he leans against the door frame. 
When she put down her hairbrush, he closed the gap between coming up behind her so they're back to chest. He slides his arms around her waist, his fingertips caressing the flesh on her left hip where his crow was inked before resting his hands on her stomach and kissing the side of her head. "I figured I'd be a gentleman and come pick up my old lady." 
"You'll be driving the cage," she quips as she looks at him through the mirror.  
"I know," He smiles looking back at her, his baby blues meeting her E/C eyes. He takes a step back from her as she starts to apply her makeup. 
They got it confirmed last week that Y/N is pregnant again, after speculating that she was a few days before hand. Aside from not being able to ride bitch right now, they haven't told anyone about the pregnancy yet. Being just nine weeks along, they choose to hold off until the second trimester, when the risk of miscarriage is significantly lower. The first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 11 weeks, and it wasn't only them who were devastated by it. 
Despite the fact that they are quite certain their family aren't buying into the excuse, they used her being sober driver as an explanation for her abstinence from drinking and riding on the back of Jax's motorcycle. They noticed Gemma, Opie's, Piney's and even Clay's suspicious looks when she would deny a drink or avoid being on the of a motorcycle. Y/N could tell Gemma was the most suspicious and that she was picking up on more than just those two things. 
Once Y/N has finished applying her makeup, she exits the bathroom to retrieve her jacket and put it on, with Jax close behind. 
"How do I look?" She asks as she slowly spins around, flaunting her appearance. 
He closes the gap between them once again, encircling his arms around her waist and planting a scorching kiss to her lips. He smiles as she responds kissing him just as heated as he was.  Nobody else has ever made him feel the way he does when he kisses Y/N. He knows he had the same effect on her as she always left him out of breath. He knew this because of the small moment after their kiss when her eyes remained closed and her lips pouted. 
Before letting her go, he quickly kisses her and doesn't say anything as he leads her to the car, locking the front door on their way out of the house. 
"I never answered your question," he says as he opens the passenger door for her but blocks her from entering the vehicle. She looks at him puzzled. "You look fuckin' beautiful," he whispers as he kisses her lips again before helping her into the car before getting in himself and driving to the SAMCRO clubhouse. 
When Jax pulls into the lot, the music is already booming from the speakers, there is already a strong odor of weed and cigarettes in the air, and beer bottles and cigarette butts are scattered all over the ground. He exits the car as Y/N gets out and meets him at the front of the car. He smiles as she slips her smaller hand into his larger one and laces their fingers together. As they enter the clubhouse, he brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses the back of it. 
As soon as they are inside, surrounded by patches, friends of the clubs, old ladies, sweet butts and crow eaters, Jax let's go of her hand and placed his arm around her waist pulling her into his side. A few people stared and scoffed at them, he was unable to control the smirk that grew on his lips. The women envious of Y/N and the men who aren't members of the club wishing they were him. 
Jax orders drinks from the prospect behind the bar before noticing Tig and Chibs sitting nearby. He leans close to Y/N to talks to her without having to yell, "Go sit down with Tig and Chibs, and I'll bring the drinks over." 
She gives him a quick peck on the cheek and moves over to the table where his SAMCRO brothers are seated. He watches when both men stand up and hug her before she sits down. 
He catches a few men glancing in her direction with hungry eyes as he surveys the crowded room. As his gaze returns to her, he suppresses the temptation to pound their faces into the nearest surface. Jax is unsure of what he did to earn her love, but he is glad that he did. He couldn't picture his life without her. 
Jax has only ever been in one committed relationship before he got into one with Y/N. Because of Tara's decision to go medical school, his ex-girlfriend ended their relationship but not without trying to convince him to leave with her. He'd been crushed and drowned himself in weed, alcohol, and pussy when he wasn't working his way up in the club. 
All of it came to an end when Y/N returned from college. 
After she returned home, a lot of things changed for him. Y/N became the reason he stayed awake and alone in bed most nights, her face being the one he saw when he tried to take another girl back to his room. When she wasn't with him, he thought of her constantly, wondering what she was doing and if she was safe. He had to stop himself from calling her every chance that he got  He existed solely for her and the club. Even though the guys made fun of him for being whipped, he didn't know where he'd be without her. He couldn't picture his life without her. He didn't want to. 
Jax brings the drinks over to the table and sits in the empty chair next to Y/N's handing her bottle of water to her. She leans in close to him, kissing his cheek once again, and whispers "thank you" as he drapes an arm across the back of her chair. 
"Hey, where's my kiss?" Tig is heard asking. 
"Not here, but maybe if you ask her," Y/N chuckles, pointing to a brunette crow-eater who is gazing lustfully at the club's resident crazy while wearing next to nothing. "She might give you one." 
"You might be right." He smirks, looking in the direction that Y/N is pointing.  He gets out of his chair and moves over to the couch where the crow-eater is seated. 
After an hour and a few drinks, Jax glances at Y/N as Chibs walks away, finishing their discussion. He finds her looking back at him with a small smile and love in her eyes. Now that they are alone at the table, he smiles tenderly at her as everything around them fades, Y/N becoming his sole focus for now. He didn't want to admit it, but she had turned him into a love-sick idiot. 
"How are you feeling?" She asks, concern in her eyes as she takes in the faint bruise on the side of his head. Moving her hand from his leg, she reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair. This afternoon he'd been hit in the head by some thug the club had to deal with, earning him a nasty headache.  However, it vanished when he took a few painkillers before church. His headache was returning, and the loud music was not helping. 
"I feel wonderful," he says trying to ease her worry and kisses her to distract her knowing she'll see right through his bullshit. 
"You're an awful liar." 
"I know." He offers her a small smile. "My headache's back." 
"We don't have to stay. I'm beginning to feel a bit worn out, myself." 
"Let's go home," He stands and offers his hand to her, helping her stand up also. They say goodnight to the most of the club members before Y/N makes plans to meet Gemma for lunch the following day. As they exit the building and walk to her car, Jax hands Y/N the keys. 
"Take these and lay down." Y/N offers Jax a glass of water and some pain relief she'd snagged from the kitchen on her way to the bedroom. As soon as they walked through the front door, Jax made his way into their bedroom, stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed while she double checked that everything was locked up and all the lights were off. He takes them as she instructed and leaves the half empty glass of water on the bedside table. 
He doesn't move from his upright position while he watches her undress till she is only wearing her bra and panties. 
His eyes follow her once more as she walks over to his dresser and picks out one of his SAMCRO shirts before entering the bathroom. A few minutes later, she returns wearing his shirt and with her face make-up free. He continues to observe her as she removes her bra, pulling it from the sleeve of his shirt and discarding it on the chair in the corner of their room. He moves to lay down as she climbs into bed, facing him. 
"How's your head?" She softly asks. 
"The pain is starting to fade." 
"That's good. 
"How are you feeling?" he questions, cupping her face and caressing her cheek with his thumb. 
"Amazing," she says as her eyelids close, relishing in the tenderness of his touch. "Though I was feeling a bit queasy earlier." 
He rolls onto his back to reach his bedside table and switches off the lamp. Y/N moves in closer and places her head on his chest. 
With his arm around her holding her close, he kisses the top of her head. "I know I never tell you I love you as much as I should, but I do love you." 
"I love you too," She smiles. His spoken 'I love you's' are rare but he didn't have to say it for her to know it's true. Every day, in the smallest things he does for her, he tells her he loves her.  
"I don't mean to turn into a huge sap but you're the most wonderful person I know," He kissed the top of her head again. "I don't know what I'd do without you or if anything happened to you." 
"I hope we never have to find out." 
"Me too." He sighs. A silence falls over them but is soon broken by Jax. "We should get married." 
Y/N sits up looking at him in the darkness, a look of shock plastered on her face. "You wanna get married?" 
"Yeah I do." he admits. They've never had the marriage talk until now. They hadn't had the baby talk before she got pregnant both times. "We have a good reason to. I love you, you love me and we're going to have a kid." His hand reached under the shirt she was wearing, his fingers brushing the skin of her belly.  
She smiles. "Okay, let's get married." 
Jax smiles back and pulls her down to him making her giggle. He runs a hand through her hair tucking a few strands behind her ear. "You really are wonderful." 
"Just kiss me already," she orders him. 
"Sure thing, Darling." he laughs and pulls her into a passionate and mind-blowing kiss that was bound to leave both of them breathless. 
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eddieschains · 8 months
Text
Complex
Eddie Munson X Reader
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a/n: this is a repost
Word Count: 1k
TW// mentions of mental health/depression and the physical side effects of that
It was just one of those days. Well, months. Months of just feeling… off. You weren’t sure what happened or why you were feeling like this, but all you knew was that it didn’t feel good.
Everyday was worse. Falling further into that feeling of drowning and not knowing how to swim, until one day you reached the bottom. Did something happen to make you break? No. Nothing that you could put your finger on at least.
You were tired. Tired of feeling like this, tired of not feeling normal, happy. You should be happy. You had a wonderful boyfriend. You had your own place. You had your friends. And you felt so fucking selfish that it still wasn’t enough.
Eddie was already gone when you woke up. He’d been working earlier shifts at the shop so he could spend time with you at night. But most nights, you were already asleep when he got home.
Was it weird for you to be asleep when he left and asleep when he got home? Sure. But he didn’t question you. Well, how could he when you were never awake to be questioned?
You laid in bed practically all day. Debating on doing the laundry, doing the dishes, maybe fixing up the yard while you were at it. You just didn’t have the energy. That’s probably what made you snap.
You were just frustrated with yourself. You seriously don’t have the energy to do normal tasks? When was the last time you took a shower? Or cooked dinner instead of ordering pizza? Or even vacuumed the house? How pathetic are you?
The tears in your eyes didn’t even have a chance to bubble before they spilling out. Violent sobs escaping your mouth while you were at it. You tried to be quiet, knowing your roommate Steve would be home from his morning run any minute. And Robin might still be home too. But it was just one more thing you couldn’t seem to control.
You mustered up just enough energy to get out of bed and lock the bedroom door before falling back on top of the mattress. If they were going to hear your pitiful cries, you didn’t want to give them a chance to barge in on you, making it worse.
Almost on que, you hear the front door unlock, followed by Steve’s heaving panting. You don’t know why, but it makes you cry harder. It’s almost as if your body wanted someone to hear you, to help you, and you could only wish you could punch yourself in the face for that.
You hear the trail of footsteps making their way to the hallway, stopping right in front of your door. Shit. You bury your head into the pillow, waiting to hear him walk away. It seems like hours before he does, but you’re finally able to mentally sigh a release of relief.
The fear of nearly being caught shocks your cries back into your body, allowing you to relax just for a moment. Closing your eyes until you’re able to lull yourself back to sleep, back to your only place of comfort.
You don’t know how much time has passed before you’re jolted back awake. Back to the place of reality, the place of darkness. It seems like you don’t get a single minute of calm before the storm approaches once again.
You accept your defeat, curling up underneath the covers before letting round two spill from your eyes. There’s no point in fighting it anymore. Steve is home, Robin probably is too, but you’ve lost the power to even care about being quiet anymore.
Time is frozen. You’ve completely disassociated from reality until a loud bang brings you back.
“Sweetheart?” Eddie. Shit shit shit. “Baby, can you please unlock the door?” You take a deep breath in, wiping your tears with your sleeve before making your way to the door.
You hold your hand on the handle for a few seconds, before unlocking and opening it. Finding a disheveled looking Eddie before forcing a smile across your face.
“Hi baby, why are you home so early?” You ask, your voice reaching a few octaves higher than normal. Eddie rushes in, closing the door behind him.
“Please don’t pretend like you’re okay right now. I know you’re not.” His voice isn’t angry, it’s worrisome. And it breaks your heart even more to know that you’re the reason for it. “Steve called.” He blurts out, and your stomach falls. “Listen, you don’t have to talk about it. But, I don’t want you to be alone right now, okay?”
You nod, making your way back into the bed. Eddie stays on the other side of the room, watching as you assume your previous position under the blankets.
He sighs, making his way to his side of the bed, sitting on the edge. “Can I join you?” Your only response being holding the blanket open, inviting him inside.
He shuffles underneath the covers, enveloping you in his arms. You nuzzle your head into his chest, wrapping your limbs around him as well.
You two stay attached to each other, relishing in the silence for what feel like an eternity. It’s the first time you’ve felt safe in months. The first time you don’t have a sinking feeling in your chest. The first time you don’t feel like crying. The first time you think you might be able to smile, genuinely smile.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie finally asks. You think about it for a second, but you don’t want to ruin this moment by breaking down again.
You mumble a simple no, before burying your head into his chest once again. He whispers an okay, before placing a kiss on your forehead and holding you even tighter than before.
That was the thing about Eddie. He always gave you a safe space to talk about your feelings with no judgment, but he never rushed you or expected you to do so if you weren’t ready.
Sure, he might’ve been a little bit disappointed that you didn’t tell him you were struggling earlier, but it was more disappointment on his part for not noticing sooner.
Maybe you’d talk to him about it one day, but not today. Today you just wanted him to hold you. Tell you he was here, and that he wasn’t going anywhere. Today you just wanted to see a glimmer of hope, and a sliver of feeling okay.
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Just another manic Monday
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 17
Prompt: Platonic Stobin
Rated: G
CW: monsters
Tags: Urban fantasy AU; Magic AU; Creature AU; background Steddie; background Buckingham
Notes: Based on an idea and the gorgeous art by @house-of-the-moving-image - so happy I got to throw a little something together for it. 🥰
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“I don't understand this,” Steve yells, jumping over another garbage bag like a hurdle sprinter. “That thing is fucking huge, where was it even hiding?”
“Gee, I dunno, Steve!” Robin skids to a halt beside him and impatiently hops from foot to foot while he pulls out their scooter from  between two dumpsters. “I didn't ask, you think we should wait up?” 
Somewhere behind them, something lets out a loud, gargling roar. A giant body scrapes against the walls of the alley. 
Steve gulps. 
“Nah, I'm good,” he says and tosses her the egg. It's larger than his own head, and Robin sags briefly under its weight. “Get in!”
Sometimes, Steve really, really wishes he was normal. 
In a world where ninety-seven percent of the population are either magic users, non-human, or hybrids, people like Robin and him tend to get the short end of the stick. Take the job market, for example. What's a guy to do if most entry-level positions require basic flight skills, or rudimentary knowledge of summoning spells, or two years minimum of experience in applied runology? 
The job at Fleetfoot Delivery is actually okay, all things considered. The pay is decent, the uniform isn't completely humiliating, and his coworker is his best friend and platonic soulmate who happens to be just as lamely human and completely unmagical as himself. 
It's easy work. Customers trade items via the app, Steve and Robin deliver the goods from the pickup location right to the lucky new owner. 
Basic stuff. 
Simple. 
Boring.
Except for the days you get chased by giant fucking monsters. 
“Who even sells a phoenix egg online?” he asks while he waits for Robin to clamber into the side car. “I mean, shouldn't we be calling child protection services or something?” 
“Phoenixes are extinct, Steve, everyone knows that!” 
He hums vaguely. He does know that, of course, but the question has its desired effect - namely to send her off on a tangent and get her mind off things. 
“The eggs that are left are infertile, but they're highly coveted in certain circles. Rumor has it that consuming one will boost your magic like nothing else. Chrissy says there's a sea witch living off the coast who's been looking for one for-”
“Chrissy, huh?” Steve grins and swings a leg over the saddle. The scooter stutters to life. “The cute little mermaid with the milkshake order from last week? You two on first-name terms now?” 
“Oh, fuck off!” Robin jabs him in the ribs, but quickly clutches the egg again as he needs to swerve around a stack of old, soggy cardboard boxes. They're picking up speed, but not nearly enough in the crammed, narrow alley. Behind them, the roaring and scraping are getting louder. “You don't get to berate me for flirting with clients. If I see you do that ass-wiggle in your stupid shorts in front of that dragon dude one more time-” 
“His name is Eddie,” Steve snaps, neck erupting in heat. “And I don't think he has any idea what my first name is. Or my last name.”
“Yes, Steve, of course,” Robin deadpans. “That is why he calls you big boy and honey and sweetheart. That is the actual reason.” 
Steve lets this statement simmer for a few seconds. 
“Shut up and tell me where to deliver this thing,” he then says. 
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Robin smirk while she fishes her phone from her pocket and tells him the address.
“Oh, freaking great,” Steve grouses. “That's only on the other side of town. Won't take forever at all at this-” 
“Steve?” says Robin. Her hand is tugging at the sleeve of his uniform jacket, like she's been trying to get his attention for a while. “Steve, you may wanna go faster.” 
“I know!” he groans. “Need to beat rush hour, or we won't be home until-”
“That's not what I meant!” Robin shouts. Her voice goes all shrill and grating towards the end, and he almost crashes them into the wall in his impulse to cover his ears. 
“Well, what do you-” he starts to say, but doesn't get any further.
There's a loud crashing sound as the dumpsters are mowed over. He glances over his shoulder, just long enough to see a slimy, clawed something that's roughly the size of his house erupt from the alley behind them. It shrieks. The rush of hot, stinking breath sends garbage flying in all directions. A fist-sized glob of spit hits the back of Steve's head with a wet splotch. 
“Ugh, what the fuck? I just washed my hair this mor-”
“Drive!” Robin slaps his arm. “Oh my God, drive, drive, drive!” 
Steve does. 
They shoot out of the alley and onto the main road, just narrowly avoiding a collision with a flock of banshees. As their scandalized shrieks and the roar of the monster fade behind them, Robin's wristwatch buzzes. 
“Oh,” she says. “Today's your lucky day. A certain dragon just ordered an entire crate of aventurine, express delivery.”
Steve groans and takes a right, reaching up to disentangle half a banana skin from his drool-coated hair.
The day is shaping up to be a real Monday. 
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All my holiday drabbles
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castieltrash1 · 9 months
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for the sleepover: noah when you're having a bad day...
i think the way he'd handle it differs a lot when he's younger/older, so post-war!noah will be under the cut! i hope this makes your day a little easier, anon <3
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pre-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, mentions of fighting
seeing you sad is something noah loathes more than most things in life. he’s a generally sympathetic guy, even to complete strangers, but he's extra sensitive when it comes to you. if he had one wish, it’d be to make sure you never even frowned again. that’s why when you are feeling down, he’s wholly dedicated to getting a smile back on your face. he doesn’t have much to his name but he’s determined, and the devotion he has toward your happiness results in a few too many creative remedies. flowers, of course, wild and pulled straight from a field he’s taken you to for picnics before. if you’re more of a sweet tooth, he’ll spend his last dime getting your favorite candy, tying a loose ribbon around it for added effect. he’ll sing, dance, and even tell bad jokes recited directly from a brightly colored book of gags. 
since he knows he can’t offer you a lot in other areas of life, noah tries to make it up to you in moments like these. if he can’t cheer you up quickly he’ll feel bad about himself, doubting his abilities to give you something as simple as happiness. of course, most of the time your negative emotions aren’t related to him at all, but that doesn’t mean he won’t internalize any sadness you do project. if you are sad about something he’s done or a situation between you two, he’s adamant about fixing it. at first, it might just seem like he wants to kick your relationship issues under the rug, but he eventually tells you that he knows life is short, and would rather spend every second he has with you feeling nothing but joy.
“we can’t just run away from this, noah! you really hurt my feelings.” swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to hold your voice steady as you confront him. “don’t you care about what i think?” you ask, feeling your skin grow warm in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, the latter of which only grows with each passing second that your boyfriend stands frowning in front of you.
“y’know i do,” noah replies, softening his tone after his earlier outburst. he takes a step closer to you with his palms outstretched, eyes wide and hopeful. “i just don’t like it when we fight. don’t see a point in all of it.”
“couples fight, noah. it’s normal.”
his lips quirk at the corners and, when you finally let him interlock his fingers with yours, a small smile spreads across his face. “can’t we just be happy instead?” you scoff, trying not to give in to his persuasive words and the way his thumb rubs gently against the back of your hand. you’re already forgetting what the fight was even about and why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder these past few days. “c’mon, you forgive me, don’t ya?”
sighing, you pull him closer. “i really don’t know how you do it.”
“is that a yes?”
+ if you like being left alone when you’re sad, you’re dating the wrong guy. as long as you’re feeling down noah’s gonna be stuck to your side like glue no matter where you are. even if you're in the bathroom he’ll be sitting outside humming to himself, trying to strike up a conversation through the door. the last thing he wants is for you to be sad and lonely, so if he can only take care of one of those problems for now don’t expect him to be leaving anytime soon.
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post-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, v slight mentions of depression/ptsd
after the war, noah’s naive, narrow view of the world and other people’s emotions within it develops into a much more mature perspective. it’s an unspoken thing, really, and he only brings it up off-handedly in rare moments that you collect over years of being with him. he’s seen and dealt with things he’d never dreamed of when he was younger and the effects of those situations are obvious in the way he treats you; especially if you knew him before and can see a direct contrast to his previously blind optimism. 
instead of trying to “fix” your bad mood, noah just lets you embrace it. he knows that sometimes there isn’t much to do but ride out the wave of emotions until it subsides. of course, he’ll do whatever he can to make your day even a little easier, but he won’t let you feel guilty for wallowing in it either. sure, he can show some tough love, but he’s a real softie for you! he'll only lash out if your negativity is targeted toward him specifically, otherwise, he sees no reason to add to your already lousy day. when he is the problem, well, the sight of your tears is enough for him to drop his grudge (eventually.)
“we spendin’ all day in bed?” noah asks, the mattress sinking slightly as he sits beside your curled-up form. “'s beautiful outside.” when you peer over the comforter to look at him, you find his gaze already fixated on the view from your bedroom window, a hint of a smile hiding beneath his untamed beard. the normally cheerful tune of the birds' morning call only serves to remind you of your own lingering sadness, and you let out a heavy sigh.
“right, well…” noah shifts, and you close your eyes, waiting for the sound of the door closing behind him as he goes to start his day. “c’mon, darling, scooch over.” instead, his rough palm pats your hip, determination clear in his steady tone.
you sit up a little, brows furrowing. “aren’t you gonna go out?”
he shakes his head, crawling under the various quilts and blankets thrown across your bed the second you give him enough space. “and leave you here to mope all by yourself?” his fingers dig into your sides, urging you closer until he can press a ticklish kiss to your bare shoulder. “nah…” the gentle touch of his lips lingers and he only continues once you’ve settled against him. “i think i can stay a while longer.”
+ noah is, underneath all the bluntness, surprisingly rational. if your bad mood is the result of a less-than-ideal situation, he’s a great man to have talk you through it. he’ll take you out for a drive, boat ride, or even just a walk, letting you rant about whatever is bothering you before offering his own advice. as long as you take it with a grain of salt, and execute the delivery with a bit more decorum, his suggestions can be a lot of help!
gosling sleepover sunday (no longer taking requests!)
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