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mooshywrites · 2 months

Note

May I request a short fic of Halsin and Tav discussing their kinks with Halsin admitting to having a breeding kink? Thanks, love :*!

Rutting Season

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N~ ofc bb I’d love to <3

Word Count ~ 3.5K

Warnings ~ NSFW, MDNI, smut, breeding kink, slight size difference, established relationship, vaginal sex, fingering, creampie, outdoor sex

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Do not tease me with such things my heart.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I think you already know everything about me, my heart,” said with an exasperated smile.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, maneuvering to sit up on your elbows.

The sun washed across your back like a warm blanket, the grass rustling next to your picnic blanket in a comforting sort of song. It was a beautiful day today, one you were happy to spend with your Druid.

Even if he was refusing to be an interesting conversationalist.

“There has to be something about you that you haven’t told me,” you complained, giving Halsin a pleading stare.

“I’m quite sure there isn’t. I’ve told you everything. Even down to my favorite jam,” he chided.

You twisted to lay on your back, shutting your eyes against the glare of the day. Birds chirped in the distance, momentarily distracting you from your annoyance. A gentle breeze cooled you as you thought, wracking your brain for anything else you hadn’t asked Halsin.

An idea finally hit you, one eye popping open with a mischievous glint.

“Well, have you ever been in love, Halsin?” You inquired with a cheeky smile.

Halsin furrowed his eyebrows as if you had just asked the strangest thing one could utter.

“Aren’t I in love with you, little duck?” He prodded, ignoring your flurry of giggles.

“I suppose you’re right. Let’s see,” you shot back, settling in under his affectionate gaze.

He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, chuckling along at your playful mood.

“I don’t think you could think of something you haven’t already asked me if you tried,” Halsin challenged, his voice soft against you.

With a halfhearted glare, you could feel the competitiveness start to rise in your bones. Was it a series conversation? No, absolutely not. The two of you had long since run out of questions for each other in this little game that you played. But for him to have the gall, the absolute nerve to challenge you?

Absolutely not.

There had to be something you didn’t know about the man.

“I know,” you started slowly, your smile already growing wide across your face. “What’s something unusual you like to do in bed?”

“Sometimes, if I’m especially tired, I’ll bring dinner to bed,” Halsin responded nonchalantly. “That wasn’t that impressive of a question, my heart.”

You stared up at him, your eyes wide. Surely, there was no way in hell he mistook your meaning.

Halsin just stared back, confusion etching across his features as he tried to understand what was wrong.

Finally, his cheeks flushed brilliantly, realization finally dawning on him.

“Oh you meant, as in,” he stuttered. “As lovers.”

You burst into a fit of laughter at Halsin's flustered realization, his embarrassment only serving to fuel your amusement. His cheeks remained flushed as he struggled to find the right words to explain himself, his typically composed demeanor crumbling under your relentless teasing.

After a moment of reveling in his discomfort, you finally composed yourself enough to speak.

“Oh Halsin, you truly are a light unlike any other,” you managed to say between giggles. "But I must admit, bringing dinner to bed is rather endearing in its own way."

Halsin let out a sheepish chuckle, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure. “I suppose it's not quite what you were asking for,” he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes now that he had recovered from his initial embarrassment.

Your laughter gradually subsided, leaving behind a warm fondness as you gazed up at him. The sunlight danced across his features, highlighting the faded scars on his face.

“Is that still a question you want an answer to?” Halsin murmured, his gaze flitting away.

You shrugged, trying not to let the blush that was creeping into your face betray the nervousness you suddenly felt.

“I suppose so.”

Halsin sighed as if he was coming to terms with what he was about to say.

“I have a thing about breeding,” He said simply.

“A what?“ you snorted. “Is that not just regular ol’ sex?”

Halsin went quiet for a moment causing you to peek up at him, worried you might have offended him by laughing. He held your gaze, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It’s a little more than that,” he murmured. “It’s the idea of filling you with my seed. Watching you swell with my children.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, unable to speak with how blunt Halsin was being. Or the way his jaw ever so slightly strained when he admitted his leanings.

A mischievous glimmer danced in Halsin’s eyes as he watched the array of emotions crossing your face. The vulnerability in his confession was a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. You felt a rush of heat spreading through you, a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place. His words hung heavy in the air between you, stirring something deep within your chest.

A feeling that was quickly settling just below your stomach.

The silence stretched on, charged with words you didn’t quite know how to say. Finally, you found your voice, the words tumbling out almost without conscious thought.

“I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like that before,” you confessed.

Halsin’s smile softened, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “It’s alright,” he murmured, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to rush into anything you’re not comfortable with. I was just answering your question after all.”

You leaned into his hands, letting your eyes flutter shut. You weren’t quite sure you could handle the expression on his face with what you were about to say next.

“What if,” you whispered, your voice airy with the breathlessness the how conversation had rendered you . “What if it was something I wanted to try?”

You heard Halsin’s breath hitch slightly at your words and you couldn’t help but crack open an eye.

His own eyes were wide with surprise, searching your own for any sign of your usual joking manner. The air around you crackled with newfound anticipation.

His hand trembled slightly as he cupped your cheek, his touch gentle as if he were trying to hold something back.

“Do not tease me with such things, my heart,” Halsin whispered lowly.

“Who said I was teasing?” You retorted, your voice barely audible.

Halsin’s expression shifted, a blend of desire and uncertainty flickering across his features. His thumb traced along your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense stare. The air between you seemed to be laden with electricity, tension waiting to be snapped.

Without another word, Halsin closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet urgent kiss. It was if a dam had been unleashed, a flood of desire pouring into your touch. Your hands instinctively found their way to his back, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself into the kiss, your mind becoming less coherent the more you thought of his words.

’Filling you with my seed.’

You pulled back for a moment, breathless from the kiss.

“Is that something you want? To have children with me? Right now?” you questioned.

It was something the two of you had talked about before, but not at length. More of the casual discussions of the future and not set in stone plans.

A growl reverberated deep in Halsin’s chest, rumbling against you. “I would want nothing more, my heart.”

The intensity of his promise hung in the air, mingling with the lingering taste of his kiss on your lips. Your heart raced with a heady mix of lust and hesitance as you searched his eyes for any hint of doubt. But all you found was unwavering conviction, like it was something he had long since decided.

It didn’t take more than a split second for your conviction to match his own, your lips meeting his for another searing kiss.

Passion ignited between the two of you, the sound of the field drowning out in favor of the sound of Halsin’s breathing becoming heavier.

You couldn’t help the way your hips shifted against him, already seeking relief from the desire beginning to pool in your core. Halsin groaned in response, the sound cutting straight through your chest.

It suddenly felt like there was far too many layers between the two of you, your fingertips clawing at the hem of his shirt. You wanted nothing more than to feel his heated skin against your own, feel his calloused touch against you.

“Please,” you whimpered, your voice already tinged with a neediness that otherwise would have had you embarrassed.

But his confession, the thought of following through with his desires…

You needed him now.

Halsin’s eyes flared with lust at your shameless ask, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Demanding, aren’t we, little duck?” He whispered, his voice a shade darker than it was moments ago.

You could only manage a weak glare back, tugging expectantly on the edge of his clothes once more.

Halsin smiled back as he reached for the ties on his shirt, his movements slow and teasing. He undid each knot with calculated precision, revealing hints of his tanned chest beneath the fabric.

Your gaze locked with his as he slowly peeled the shirt off his chest, exposing the tawny brown hair that dusted his skin. You couldn’t help but trace the lines of his muscles with your eyes, taking in the hard lines of his abdomen.

“You really want this, my heart?” Halsin murmured, his voice a low, heated rumble.

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him bare before you. The desire to touch him washed over you, all consuming.

Your fingertips found their way to his skin, tracing featherlight over scars and muscles. Halsin stayed perfectly still, watching you as you admired him. You put more pressure into your touch, your nails scraping ever so lightly against him.

His gaze darkened before fluttering shut, his breaths growing heavier as your hand continued to explore. He let out a low groan, his own hands finding yours and guiding them down to the waistband of his breeches.

You smirked, taking your time ignoring the growing bulge before you. Halsin may have been the one in charge through and through, but you quite enjoyed torturing him every once in a while. Idly, you traced the outline of the Druid’s length, refusing to acknowledge his annoyed growl.

Slowly, you cupped your hand around him, looking up to give him an innocent smile. As you gave a gentle squeeze, you couldn’t help but flit your eyes back to the hard member.

Was he bigger than normal?

You looked back up at Halsin, your eyes locked onto his as you began to stroke him gently, keeping your movements slow.

“You’re very hard,” you teased, watching the way his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

“Careful.” He whispered, his voice a low growl. You couldn’t help but feel yourself growing more aroused at the tension in his tone. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Am I?” You asked, sliding your hand up and down his length, reveling in his growing impatience.

He was right, you were playing with fire. But it was a delicious, exhilarating fire that you couldn’t seem to resist. The need to watch him become undone. The need to see how much his admission really affected your time together.

With a final squeeze, you sat back. Your gaze met Halsin’s eyes with a smirk, seeing nothing but flaming desire mirrored back at you.

Gods above, he really seemed to want this.

You slowly pushed the sleeves of your dress down, letting the ties fall free as it fell to your waist. You sat for a moment, bare before him and feeling your body tremble with anticipation.

Halsin’s eyes raked over your body and he swallowed hard, clearly taking in every inch of you.

“Oak Father, preserve me, you’re more and more beautiful every time,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

You blushed slightly at his compliment, feeling a wave of shyness wash over you. Your hands came up to cover your chest and the soft curve of your stomach, your gaze dropping.

Halsin reached out, gently pulling your arms to the side. You heard him move forward before your breath caught in your chest, taken aback by the feeling of his lips brushing against your collarbone.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered again, planting another kiss an inch lower.

His touch was slow, tender, and filled with reverence. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, feel the composure he was truing to keep as his lips wandered across your chest. A shiver ran down your spine as his mouth continued its journey.

When he finally made it to the soft swell of your breast, he couldn’t seem to help nipping at the skin slightly. The feeling of his teeth against your skin caused a moan to tumble from your parted lips, unable to hide your growing desperation.

Halsin looked up at you, his eyes dark with hunger and anticipation. You could see the intensity in his gaze, the way that tiniest of sounds was pushing him further to a breaking point.

You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to the Druid’s mouth. He gave you a wry chuckle, finally taking your nipple between his lips in a gentle kiss.

His tongue flicked against the sensitive skin, sending a delicious shockwave through your body. You groaned, your hands falling to his hair, pulling him closer. Halsin hummed in response, his own eyes fluttering shut as he continued.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the feeling of his lips against you making it difficult to sit still.

You couldn’t help but moan, leaning back against the blanket with the Druid quickly following. His arms caged you under him, his torso settling between your legs as he switched his attention to your other breast. He was lost in the task, nipping and kissing like it was the last time he’d ever witness you.

Halsin’s hand glided up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His fingers danced across your waist, finally tugging your dress the rest of the way down your legs.

You kicked them off easily, gasping as the cold air hit you. Halsin’s body quickly returned against you, masking the cold air with his feverishly hot skin. The fabric of his pants scratched against your thigh, earning another moan from you.

Your hips bucked forward, seeking more of that friction. Halsin groaned, moving forward to rest his forehead against your own. His expression was almost pained as his hand pinned your hips, like he was trying desperately to hold onto a thread of sanity.

“Please,” you begged yet again, your voice shaking with desperation.

Halsin inhaled deeply, his jaw tightening again. He finally opened his eyes, looking into yours with a searing look of lust.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted you like this.” he admitted, his voice rough. “But I can’t deny that I fear losing control.”

You smiled softly, warmed by his concerned. “I trust you, Halsin. I know you’d never hurt me.”

He hesitated for a moment longer, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But then he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours. The hand that pinned your lip let go, moving to undo the ties of Halsin’s pants.

In your lust clouded state, you didn’t even recognize the movements. That is, until Halsin’s hips shifted against you, his hardened cock slipping against your folds.

You gasped at the sensation, your breath hitching in your throat. You always had to adjust to him in the beginning, his impressive length being a lot for anyone to handle.

But impossibly, he seemed to be even more to handle today.

Halsin froze for a moment, his eyes searching your face knowingly. But then he leaned down again, his lips claiming yours in a deep affectionate kiss. His hand slid between your legs, his fingers brushing against the sensitive bud of nerves. Your hips bucked upwards, seeking more contact.

“Let me do this for you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice comforting. “Let me help you adjust, my heart.”

You nodded, too shot with lust to say anything coherent. Halsin pressed two fingers against your entrance, running teasing figure eights around where you most wanted him. Your hips shifted helplessly, trying to catch his calloused touch. Finally, they slid against your entrance slowly before sliding inside.

Your muscles clenched around him, earning a groan from the Druid. You whined in response, the little sound from his lips going straight to your cunt.

Halsin slid his fingers in and out of you slowly, gently stretching and preparing you for what was to come. Your hips strained against his hand, the friction leaving you panting and desperate for more.

You arched your back once more, wanting to feel more of him against you. Halsin’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression dark and intense. He moved his fingers faster, teasing the your sensitive nub with his thumb.

“Halsin,” you whimpered, your voice strained with need. “Please… I need you.”

The Druid, still looking deeply into your eyes, shifted his body and pushed his hips forward, the tip of his cock barely pressed your entrance. You whimpered breathlessly, looking up at your lover.

Halsin stayed still, looking into your eyes for some sort of confirmation. You let out an annoyed growl. You should’ve been happy he was being so courteous, but mostly, you just wanted him drilling you into the ground this instant.

`“For gods’ sake, Halsin,” you whined. “Breed me!”

Halsin’s entire demeanor changed as you watched his resolve snap suddenly, a growl ripping through his chest as he plunged forward, impaling you fully in one swift motion.

You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, the subtle sting of his girth mixing deliciously with your lust. He gave you no time to adjust as he began to move inside you, his gaze firmly stuck on yours.

“Silvanus above, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips firmly thrusting into in a rhythm that had your thoughts clouded and hips jerking up to meet every thrust.

“Halsin,” you moaned helplessly, your hands gripping his upper arms.

Halsin complied with your wordless begs, his movements becoming more frantic, his fingers digging into your hips as he surged into you. His breath was ragged, low grunts escaping him as he continued to take you.

“I’m going to fill you, my heart,” He promised lowly, “Fill you with my seed.”

The weight of his words sent heat straight to your core, your entire being shifting as Halsin’s promise of breeding you sparked red hot desire. You felt yourself clench tighter around Halsin’s length, your nails digging into his arms.

Your legs wrapped around Halsin’s hips, locking him and trying desperately to pull him deeper into you.

His name was a plaintive wail on your tongue, your voice rising and falling with each thrust, each grunt, each cry echoing through the clearing. Your hips shook wildly against him, each movement in a desperate attempt to cling to him.

Halsin’s movements began to stutter, your own coil of desire tightening beyond belief in your stomach. You knew he was close, his breaths sharp and quick against your neck, and you felt your own body react in tandem.

“Fill me, Halsin.” You moaned in a stutter. “Breed me.”

Your walls tightened around him, beckoning him to fulfill his promise, to breed you and give you what you both so desperately craved. Your nails reached up to dig into the Druid’s back, leaving scratches that would heal with time. You felt his body tense, a feral growl reverberating in him.

Then, with a final shuddering thrust, Halsin filled you completely. His seed spilled deep within, coating your insides with his warm essence. Your walls tightened around him, milking ever last drop. He collapsed against you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding against yours.

You lay there for a moment, your bodies locked together, both utterly sated and completely spent. Halsin’s fingers brushed the hair from your forehead, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes.

“How I love you, my heart,” Halsin whispered, his voice tender with emotion.

You sighed closing your eyes as you basked in the afterglow, feeling him still inside of you. “I love you too.”

As his breathing began to slow, you both lay there, entwined in each other’s arms. The sun filtered through pillowy clouds, warming your bare skin in a warm kiss.

Halsin’s voice cut through the moment of tranquility, his voice lighter and teasing.

“I suppose it’s my turn to ask a question, then, little duck?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

#halsin #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 halsin #halsin smut #halsin x reader #halsin x reader smut #halsin x tav #halsin x tav smut #halsin x you #halsin x you smut #halsin fanfiction #halsin fic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 smut

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thatbadadvice · 7 months

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Dear Advisor,

I tend to be a very reserved and shy person so making friends is super hard. Recently I’ve been wanting to socialize more , but I genuinely don’t know how. Is there any advice that you have that can make me look more approachable and not be scared to talk to people. I’m so stressed about being alone and not having any friends, but I just find it so hard to go up to people and make a conversation. I tried once but it became super awkward. I just really need good advice from someone on how to approach a person and continue a conversation.

Dear Awkward Anonymous,

It would be so easy to get into a whole deep let's-skeetshoot-therapy-on-the-internet session and try to help a total stranger unpack all of the GA-FUCKING-ZILLION ways in which social awkwardness shows up in a person's life. It seems easy, and it even seems meaningful and worthwhile, but to do so I would have to presume a bunch about your life, and make a bunch of assumptions about the ways in which my own experiences maybe/probably track with yours, and it would be a whole big wank-fest, and frankly ... it would be awkward. I'd be like you, standing there at the party, hoping that what I'm saying resonates or lands or even vaguely tracks with anything a stranger has ever known or experienced, presuming (probably rightly!) that it doesn't, and then flailing and blaming myself when I didn't emerge from the interaction with all the world's gold stars.

So here's what: stop talking to other people as a primary social occupation. Going up to people and just talking is fucking terrifying. The Bad Advisor says this as a Certified Extrovert™ who rarely shuts the fuck up.

Instead, find a thing to do with other people that involves some sort of task or goal or activity. Talk about the thing you're doing together, when you're doing it. If it feels okay, maybe introduce one or two of your own relatable-to-the-activity experiences in the process. See who picks up on it. Ask the people who pick up on it genuinely interested questions in response. This is what we awkward people call: engineering a conversation. It is the way, I am told, humans make connections with other humans. I have seen it work in my own life.

Depending on where you live and your ability level and skill set, I bet you have some options! You could seek out an open board game night, pub quiz session, knitting/quilting circle, or mutual aid meetup that's looking for volunteers. Especially look for social activities with strangers that involve a dedicated, pre-prescribed activity (such as a hiking or mall-walking group, stuffing envelopes for a political candidate or cause you care about, planting trees at your local park, or tasting tea/wine/beer/etc.). (Somebody is going to say join a ballroom dancing club or suchlike; I am personally terrified of this, but if you have a higher tolerance for strangers touching you and fewer than two left feet: it's literally an option. Line-dancing, on the other hand ... absofuckinglutely.)

Even if what's available in your area isn't your precise and specific interest, it might be worthwhile to check out something you are decidedly meh about -- you might not be the only meh person there. You can bond over shit that's boring or shitty with other people who find it boring or shitty! Some of my best friends, arguably my very best friends, came out of experiences we mutually loathed or found at least moderately and mutually miserable.

Consider especially finding an activity where you yourself are the manager of operations and/or have a designated task to take care of that is unique to your position! This doesn't have to be complicated or skill-dependent; can you become a voter registrar in your area? Well, bam! You've got paperwork people have to fill out and a good reason to jibber-jabber with folks who have to ask you the questions. Other ideas: join your local neighborhood association board, become a notary public, or see if your local pet rescue is looking for intake line volunteers. Do you have a trustworthy, especially outgoing friend who might agree to play "social glue" for you a couple of times at their activity-centric events? Make it explicit! Ask them if they'll play friendly wing-person for you at their D&D game, fantasy sports league, or some such.

Alternately: Do you have a unique and fun and shareable skillset you can share with others? Are you pretty good at drawing, programming? Simply a font of endless Merlin or NFL or Real Housewives knowledge? You might start a local Discord or other online social group to discuss and share your interests, then move it to the real world in a few weeks once folks get comfortable. You get the idea.

Most of all: Look for stuff that has more-than-just-talking opportunities available outside the designated group jam for you to maintain connections. Perhaps a group chat, a Discord, a Slack, what-have-you, where you can take more time to consider and draft your responses and posts? Connections with humans get made a thousand ways, and talking raw-dog with strangers is but one.

It takes a true social unicorn to be simply good at talking and only talking to other people. There are some of these one-horned wonders out there, to be sure — but let me assure you that the vast majority of folks want to be accepted and seen just as much as you do, and they're staring at the ceiling at night thinking just as much (more, probably) about all the weird, wonky shit they themselves threw at you than they are anything you ever said to them.

#good advice #good advice interlude #socializing #awkward #introvert problems #shy #shyness #get out there we're all fucking squares

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norrizzandpia · 5 months

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hey 🧡 could you please do one with lando where you two just have that very special connection. you’re dating for years already and just became each others home / safe place and everyone around you can see? x

The words of this request are so cute like i love it

Also i ended up merging this with the ski trip 🤭 and a proposal bc what other way to best depict two people being incredibly in love than a proposal?? 😍 (i just want to marry Lando Norris)

Ski Trips and Smiles (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n had been planning this ski trip with their friends for months, so she knows everything on the itinerary. Well, at least, she thinks she does.

Warnings: language, yn falling into snow, yn not being able to snowboard, sexual references, slight smut, they get interrupted tho, max being a weepy baby

Note: the one time im in a marriage mood bc i watched the bachelorette

Lando’s hand shook slightly as it rested in his pocket, clutching the black suede box that he had quadruple-checked was with him before they left the house. He didn’t know what he was doing, crazed and manic in love with the woman beside him. She was asleep, head on his shoulder as the plane moved along, quiet and tranquil because of its privacy.

Max sat across from him, eyeing his best friend as droplets of sweat began to form at the top of his head.

“You okay?” He whispered, gaze shifting to the girl beside Lando, the girl who had been in their lives for six years.

Lando nodded, albeit hesitantly, “Yeah, fine.”

Max’s eyebrows furrowed together, “Really? Because the sweat stains on your shirt say otherwise. It’s like sixty degrees in here, mate.”

The Brit’s eyes shifted to catch his shirt, the material soaked through around his chest and armpits. His eyes widened, “Oh shit. Fuck. How do I fix this? She’ll know something’s up.”

Max shook his head with a teasing smile on his face, “Don’t say anything, but I figured this would happen. I packed some quadrant shirts from the new line in my backpack for you. I can get one right now if you want?”

Lando breathed a sigh of relief, “Max, holy shit, thank you. Thank you. But, no. I’ll wait a few hours. Until it gets closer to her waking up. I don’t want to sweat through the new ones too.”

Max hummed in agreement, letting silence take the moment once more.

However, the boy felt sympathy for Lando, the nervousness that was clearly wracking his body at the impending ask, so he tried to reassure him, “Lando, you have got to chill, mate. It’s going to be fine. She’s going to say yes.”

Lando’s frantic eyes bounced around, “But, what if she doesn’t? What if I’ve built this all up in my head and she actually doesn’t want to marry me. I’d rather be her boyfriend for the rest of my life than take a chance and ask her to be my wife and have her leave me.”

Max chuckled, “Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself in other people’s eyes. You’d take one look at yourself right now and immediately talk about how outrageous and ridiculous you sound. You two have been together for six years, Lando. Six years. Let that sink in. Six birthdays, six Christmases, a multitude of times she’s been there for you, 130 Grand Prix, an overwhelming amount of time spent building you back up after racing took you down. She’s been a constant. You know that, Lando. You’ve lived through it. This is just making all that permanent.”

Lando moved his head to stare at her sleeping face, her closed eyes and slowly rising chest making his heart fill with a specific kind of love he had only ever felt for her, and smiled softly, “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” Max gave, laughing airily.

Lando’s hand came to cradle her head, nudging it toward his mouth so he could plant his lips in her hair, whispering, “Maybe you’ll be right.”

—

Her laughing could be heard in the distance as Lando continued to ski toward her. Her head was face planted in the snow, hands messily placed beside her with her foot shoved in the snow, and, even with all the cold she was most likely feeling, the contagious sound filtered through the air and imprinted itself under Lando’s skin. Whether he got chills from the cool temperatures or the sound of her, he didn’t know. He would like to think it was her, though.

Lando rounded around her body, coming to a complete stop with snow spraying behind him as he fell to the ground.

“Y/n! Are you hurt?” His hands, covered in gloves, gently moved her body to sit up, a smile still gracing her face after the accident.

Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin and Lando was sure his heart stopped beating. Her beauty was a kind that was subtle, not truly reaching its full potential until she was laughing or smiling and only then blowing you away with such vigor, it took the air from your lungs. Sparkles in her eyes and soft features, Lando always felt a soft kind of feeling burst within him whenever she blessed him with her gaze. He remembered the first time he caught her sight. She had been a vision in a red dress at the gala his dad had forced him to go to. He remembered watching her as she floated across the floor, wondering how someone who looked his age could act with such elegance, and being completely enamored with the woman she already was at 18. He was obsessed, unwilling to look away, and when she looked back, he learned what it was like to be truly awestruck. Suddenly, she had grown shy under their staring and, when he approached her, the two of them had been a bundle of stuttering nerves. Lando later learned that the change in her demeanor was because of her already knowing his name at that point, already having a crush on him. He found it cute then and he still did now as she looked at him with the same light eyes she did that night. The same gaze she shot him every night, everyday, and every moment since they got together those six years before.

“No,” She shook her head at him, waving her hand in his face as she tried to get back on her feet. When she plopped back down, he laughed at her, apologizing quickly after when she looked at him like a lost puppy. He stood up before her, looming over her sprawled out body before bending his knees and reaching out for her arms. His strong, large hands clutched her biceps as he hoisted her off the ground, pulling her into him and successfully getting her to a stand.

Their skis clanged together at their feet, but the noise didn’t interrupt him from leaning down and pecking her cold lips. He smiled under her reciprocated kisses, blushing over her affection and providing some sense of warmth for their smashed-together faces. They stayed kissing each other sweetly off to the side of the run, wrapped in the other’s arms and completely removed from the world around them. That was typically how it was for them, alone in their own world and completely enthralled with the other.

Six years and that had never changed.

And Lando hoped that wouldn’t change for the rest of their lives.

“Oil! Stop fucking on the ski run!” Max screamed as he passed them, goggles on as he zoomed past. Lando moved his head to the side, giving his girlfriend a perfect view of his stellar jawline.

He yelled back, still tangled in her arms, “Shut up! Thank you!”

Y/n giggled at the two best friends, still surprised at some points by their antics.

He returned to her, head tilted down to lovingly gaze upon her, “How about we finish this run and then we can go back to the lodge? Maybe get a drink or two?”

His eyebrows wobbled, she knew what he meant, and she was quick to hit his chest, “Lando! We are with your friends. They are literally staying in the same room with us.”

He scoffed, “There’s a door! It’s like Max’s and I’s old apartment. We used to fuck in my room all the time.”

She rolled her eyes, “That was different.”

“Why?”

He hardened his gaze at her, challenging the argument she was clearly losing. He smiled triumphantly when she huffed his arms and wiggled out of his hold, “Fine! If you make it down to the end before me, we can go at it!”

His jaw fell open as she began to ski away, giggles ensuing and a sound that echoed in his ear even after she was out of hearing range. When he became unvexed by the sounds he adored to a concerning level, he pushed off and began racing down the hill.

When he passed her, he just smiled knowingly at her and thought of the things they would get up to that night.

—

Lando’s kisses splayed across her stomach sensually as his hands toyed with the hem of her shoulders. Her quiet, breathy moans turned him on to the point he had to rut his hips against the mattress to gain a small amount of relief.

“Like that, baby?” He asked as his hands traced her pussy over her underwear.

She whimpered in return, hands clutching his hair as she stared at the wall in anticipation.

He hitched her legs over his shoulders, burying himself between the thighs that he dreamt of continuously. Whether they were having sex or not, he always found this spot to be quite comfortable. He couldn’t count how many times he had come home from a race to lay in between her legs with his head resting on the low part of her stomach.

She moved her hips closer to his mouth, his hot breath reminding her of the presence that was about to take what he wanted. His fingertips danced amongst her skin as he pushed materials to the side and fully disappeared beneath the comforter.

His head moved slowly under the bedsheets, the only thing she could stare at as she felt his tongue begin licking up her slit. She bit her lip, surpassing moans as to not alert Max and Pietra of what was happening a few feet away from them.

She groaned his name, an almost silent chant of the syllables that had him bringing his fingers to her hole.

He gave her one finger, then another, stretching her out and trying to prep her for him. They always had to do this, whether they liked it or not, he always had to get her slick enough to take him. From the moment they first slept together, it was clear she would never be able to fit him without a sting, and that wasn’t because she was tiny.

He continued his ministrations, the comforter moving around as his head popped up from beneath it.

Muffling words from underneath, Lando moaned, “So wet, baby. You ready to take my big-”

“LANDO, WHERE ARE MY GREY SWEATPANTS?!” Max screamed as he burst through the door.

Pietra appeared behind him, a scolding look on her face that told Y/n Max’s girlfriend knew exactly what was going on in their room.

Max, the oblivious one, continued to stalk into the room, not realizing his friend’s position, “Wait, where’s Lando?”

His eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at Y/n in the center of the bed, a horrified look on her face as she struggled to get words out.

“I’m right here.” Lando mumbled, his words cutting the silence in the room and replacing it with tension.

When his hand appeared from the sheets and he moved them up enough so he could peak through, Max stared down at him, “What the fuck are you doing under there?”

Lando didn’t say anything, choosing to look blankly at Max, waiting for him to understand the implications. Y/n watched comically as it dawned on Max, his features slowly falling as his brain caught up, “Oh… oh.”

To add to the horror etched into Max’s face, Lando nodded and wiped at his mouth, making a slurping sound, “Yep, you caught me eating out my girlfriend.”

Y/n yelped, smacking Lando on the shoulder as Max matched her pitch. A girlish scream emitted from the boy and he was quick to turn and bolt out of the room, Pietra following him close behind with a fit of giggles.

He slammed the door shut when his girlfriend was through, yelling throughout the room about how he was done with Lando and his bullshit.

The boy in question had his head smushed into the warm sheet beneath him, laughing loudly at the moment. His bouncing giggles put a smile on Y/n’s face, letting her forget about the embarrassment she had been feeling previously. Her hand disappeared once more in his curls, tugging softly as he continued giggling into the mattress.

When he came up for a breath, his eyes were red and there was a shimmer beneath them, “Are you crying?!” She laughed, Lando nodding in response as the two leaned into each other, giggling and giggling and giggling.

Their shoulders touched as they keeled over together, Lando gripping her hand as he tried to regain his composure. When it died down, Lando looked over at her, chuckles still coming from her mouth, and kissed her cheek, “Thank you for laughing with me.”

Y/n was about to question his statement, wondering the sentiment and countering it with how funny the situation had been. However, when she met his eyes, the words took on a different meaning. Suddenly, she understood what he meant.

Thank you for continuing to laugh with me.

Thank you for always laughing with me.

The statement was a silent promise of the future. Their future together.

Just, Y/n thought, when would it start?

—

The rooftop of the hotel was filled with bustling adults, glasses clanking together as people joined in boisterous conversation. Lando’s arm around her waist and his whispers in her ear, Y/n felt the love surrounding her that evening.

With their close friends sitting beside them at the dinner table and Lando’s hand on her thigh, she looked around to find everything she could ever possibly need for the rest of her life.

That must’ve translated in her eyes because Lando was leaning down to murmur, “You okay, love? You seem dazed.”

She smiled at him, his heart stopping unsurprisingly, and murmured back, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just really happy to be here.”

He pulled back, a large grin on his face, before he began to stand up, “Let’s make you a bit happier then, yeah?”

She was confused by his words, but couldn’t question it as he began dinging his knife against his glass, quieting the conversations around the table and bringing his friends attention to him.

She stared up at him as he began speaking, “I just have a few things to say and then we can all go back to getting drunk.” He laughed, agreeing noises being thrown out by their friends, “First, I would just like to thank all of you for just setting your busy schedules aside to be here for a little commencement trip of the winter break. This season has been one of fun, especially with the fact that Y/n was able to make it to every race,” He looked down at her, grinning softly before he caught Max’s knowing eyes, “I cherish that, love. Anyways, so, thank you for that. The second thing is something I’ve been wanting to do for way too long, but never gained the courage. Oh, thank you to everyone for helping me plan what I’m about to do. I should probably say that before I actually do it.”

Y/n sat up in her chair, looking around to see everyone nodding at him as if they understood what he was saying. She looked to Pietra, the girl already looking at her and sent her a questioning face. Pietra just shook her head with a smile as she pulled out her phone and pointed it at the couple. Y/n’s head tilted, lost in confusion and not listening to what Lando was saying before he nudged her lovingly and forced her to look at him.

“Y/n, you’ll probably want to pay attention to this next part.” He chuckled, but she saw the way his forehead creased. He was nervous. She couldn’t understand why he was nervous.

He sat back down his chair beside her, turning his body so he could fully face her and grabbing her hands to hold in his. His piercing green eyes caught hers and didn’t let her go, “Y/n, we’ve been together for six years. Six years that you’ve helped me to find who I am as a person. Six years as you’ve made me realize the man I want to be, especially to you. Six years that you’ve spent putting up with me and all the stressful things I get us into. But, most importantly, six years you’ve spent loving me. When I first saw you at that gala, I was so incredibly struck by you. Not just by your appearance, you’re very beautiful, baby, don’t get me wrong, but there’s so much more to you that meets the eye and I knew that that night. I was struck by the way you held yourself, how strong you are and how kind you are to everyone around you. You’re consistently showing me the kind of human being I want to be and every day I try to live my life by making decisions you would. You’ve been a guidance for me and I can’t thank you enough for that, especially when I was struggling in my beginning years of F1. It’s not something I can say to you every day, but I hope you know how much you’ve improved my life since you’ve been in it. Ask anyone here, I’ve never laughed more, smiled more, or felt as happy as I do when I’m with you. You’ve brought such brightness into my life and I want you to know it’s because you are a light. To everyone here might I add. A light. That’s what pushed me to ask you out, to continue to fight for you, for us because the kind of joy you’ve given me just by being yourself has completely flipped my world upside down. That’s what pushes me to do what I’m about to do next.”

Y/n’s hands shook in his as she watched Lando move his chair and get down on one knee before her. By now, tears were streaming down her face at the realization of what was to come. By now, the entirety of the rooftop had turned to see the spectacle.

Lando Norris getting engaged.

He looked up at her, something he didn’t get to do often, and removed one of his hands to pull the box from his pocket. When he opened it, Y/n cried harder, taking his head in her hands and kissing him harshly.

He laughed at her, kissing her back before mumbling, “Baby, baby, let me get through it?”

She chuckled through the wetness coating her face and nodded, “Please,”

He moved the ring higher, presenting it to her as if it was the most important thing. She wondered when he would realize he was the most important thing.

“I don’t want to know anyone else. I don’t want to love anyone else. I don’t want to share my life with anyone else, but you, Y/n. I want it to be you. Only you. For the rest of my life. Forever and ever and ever, be my wife?” He said through a smile and choked voice, glistening appearing in his eyes as he stared up at his love.

She sobbed, screaming, “YES, LAN! YES! OH MY GOD, YES! YES!”

She lurched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into the skin there. His hands gripped her body as they cried into each other, whispering soft words of adoration and love.

“I love you so much.” He said, squeezing her tightly as the restaurant erupted into applause and whoops of cheer.

“I love you too, Lan,” She said back, three words that would never have to go unsaid for the rest of their days.

When they pulled back and Lando slid the ring onto the designated finger, they turned to their table. What they found were weeping faces and large smiles as everyone clapped at the success of their plan.

Max blew his nose at the head of the table, Lando and Y/n laughing at him as Pietra rubbed his back.

“You okay down there?” Lando said with a smile as he watched his best friend.

Max stood from his chair and ran over to the newly engaged couple, shouting words of happiness, “I’m just so happy for you guys! Six years, I’ve been waiting for this! And Lando, you were so nervous and I’m just so happy it worked out. Congratulations! I didn’t expect to get this emotional. I’m just so happy that you’ve found someone to love you even with how horrifically annoying you are!” He rambled, hugging them tightly and continuing to blot at his face.

Lando pulled back, “‘Horrifically annoying’?”

Max nodded, “Yes, and look at her! She loves you for you! I’m so proud of you guys!” He wept again, not addressing the way Lando scrunched his nose up at the insult.

Max pulled them into a hug once more, stuffing his face between the two as Lando and Y/n were left to jokingly comfort him. From over his shoulder, Lando whispered to his fiancée, “Am I really horrifically annoying?”

She shook her head, “Horrifically? No. Annoying, though? Mmm, maybe.” She giggled and smiled at him.

That smile, stopping his heart, made her calling him annoying hurt less. That smile was his everything. That girl was his everything.

Oh, Lando was so gone for her and the ring on her finger just told him he could continue to get lost in her.

For the rest of their lives.

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imtryingbuck · 7 months

Text

Clingy

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky overhears his girlfriend calling him clingy

Word count: 1243

Warnings: sad Bucky and swearing

A/N: whilst editing this I realised that Alpines a girl but just for the sake of this story we’re going to pretend she’s a boy🙃

Masterlist

Bucky had a massive smile planted on his face as he left the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend and cat; he was so proud of himself for finally mastering online shopping - he just ordered a huge cat tree for Alpine. To others it wouldn’t have been important but for him it was an accomplishment he was excited to share with his girl.

With a little bounce in his step, he was about to turn the corner to where the common room was when he comes to a stop.

“-I’m telling you Nat it’s annoying” he smiles at the voice that has soothed him to sleep more times than one “he’s so clingy, always wanting to lay on me, always following me around, trying to kiss me whilst I’m eating! It’s like he always needs to be touching me at every given moment, God he’s so needy” his heart breaks not only at the words but at how frustrated she sounds. He really didn’t mean to be clingy and needy, there was no doubt in his or anyone’s minds that he was in love with her, everyone always mocked about how he was her shadow, but he didn’t care. Being her shadow was his way of showing her that he loves her and that he was always going to be there, that no one was ever going to hurt her.

Not having the heart to hear the rest he turns around and walk back to their shared room, determination running through his veins he was going to change. He didn’t want to lose her. The last thing he hears is Natasha laughing.

“Y/N he’s a cat! He loves you” Natasha chuckles.

“Yeah but still… it’s annoying. Because the worst part is that he only does it when Bucky isn’t there” Nat tries really hard not to laugh at the pout on the other woman’s face. It doesn’t take long for both burst out laughing.

~~~

Throughout the week Y/n notices something wrong with Bucky, it wasn’t normal for him to be out of bed before her - not anymore at least - he didn’t want to cuddle up with her anymore, the kisses were quick. It was hurting her; she was missing him even though he was close by. It wasn’t just her that noticed Bucky’s strange behaviour.

“What’s going on with you and Mr grumpy pants?” Sam asks as he hands her a fresh cup of tea.

“I don’t know Sammy, he’s been distant this past week and I don’t know what I’ve done”

“Have you guys argued?”

“No” taking careful sips of the hot beverage “the last time we argued was when I took that bullet for him and that was like what three months ago? We only argued for about an hour before we made up.”

“Wait… seriously that was the last time you argued?”

“Yep, we don’t argue about anything. Yes, we have disagreements about everything and anything, but it never leads to us fighting. But we also come to a mutual agreement on whatever we’re disagreeing with.”

“Okay okay” he puts on his concentration face on as she always puts it “have you took any bullets for him recently?” chuckling when he receives a deadpan look.

“No Sam I haven’t taken any bullets for him recently” rolling her eyes as she sets the now empty cup down “I honestly don’t know what I’ve done, I miss him.”

Standing up and placing a kiss to her temple “Go and talk to him, it’s breaking my heart seeing you both sad and mopey.”

“I will, thanks Falc”

Instead of going to find Bucky she grabbed her coat and bag and headed down to the garage, once she was inside her car she drove to the store.

The bed was covered in all different kind of snacks and drinks, her plan was to sit him down and talk then they’ll spend the rest of the night in bed watching movies and filling their faces. Making her way out of the room she went to track down her boyfriend - finding him in the gym.

“Hi bubba, can you finish up here and come with me” instantly not liking how her voice sounds.

“Um okay just give me a minute.”

“Of course.”

“Im done, where we going.?” Bucky’s right hand twitches to reach out to hold hers but all he does is shoves it in his pocket.

“Back to our room. We need to talk Buck”

He was prepared to drop to his knees and beg for her not to break up with him, promises on the tip of his tongue that he’d change and be better. Before he could utter a word, they had arrived at their room. The door was closed softly behind them whilst his head was bowed downwards finding his shoes more interesting.

“Buck I don’t know what I’ve done wrong but I’m sorry I don-“

“I heard you”

“What?”

“I heard you talking to Nat about me being clingy and needy and annoying and I’m trying baby really I am. I gave you space, Im keeping distant because I love you and I don’t want you to break up with me an-“

“Bucky breath! Here sit down, focus on your breathing bubba” Moving him to sit on the sofa that was in their room, she knelt down in front of him going through his breathing exercises.

It took nearly 10 minutes for him to get his breathing under control, leaving him feeling more ashamed as always after he had a panic attack “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he manages to rasp out.

“I’ll tell you what I always tell you when you have panic attacks - don’t apologise. It’s okay bubba I promise, I’ve got you” taking his hands into hers so rubs her thumbs over his flesh and metal knuckles “I wasn’t talking about you that day Buck, I was talking about Alpine. He followed me and Nat into the common room and Nat made a comment, I was talking about how he only wants me when you’re not around. Oh bubba you actually thought I was talking about you?” Taking one of her hands from his she wipes the stray tear that rolls down his cheek as he nods “Bucky I love it when you’re all over me, I love knowing that I’m never alone because your always there. I have never once thought you was clingy not once! I love you Buck and I love the attention you give me and affection you show me. Please bubba understand that”

“I love you too” bringing up her hand in his metal one “I’m sorry for overreacting baby I should of spoken to you”

“Give me a kiss and all is forgiven” she grins cheekily.

He pulls her on to his lap and kisses her, both sighs contentedly as they share their first kiss in a week little pants of air leaves their lips once they detach from one another.

“I brought snacks and drinks so how about me and you get into bed watch movies, eat, cuddle and maybe some other activities?” She says with a suggestive tone with one eyebrow raised.

Bucky chuckles when a squeal interrupts him standing up.

The third film has finished, not like they were watching - to busy doing other activities - they lay tangled with one another.

“I brought Alpine a new cat tree off the Amazon.”

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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bigfatbimbo · 3 months

Note

Imagine soft domming Lute, I feel like if she had sexual experiences they would be aggressive and not super caring. But what about taking the time to meticulously kiss every part of her and praise her until she’s in heavy subspace, even then just being super gentle and caring for her

IM SO NORMAL ABOUT LUTE SHES MY GIRLFRIENF I SWEAR

(Fem reader :33)

a/n — GOD I LOVE WOMAN I giggled when I saw this because I am genuinely so in love with this woman. Also, she’s OUR girlfriend ma’am, don’t get it twisted.

“What are you doing?” she questioned, sitting up slightly on the mattress you had her pressed against.

You had her hand in yours and pressed a kiss to her knuckle, “Is something wrong, baby?”

She knew this part, or at least thought she did. After pushing her into the mattress, you would fuck her rough and fast, cum, and then leave.

If she was lucky she would get close and if she was luckier she would finish. That’s just how the men were in heaven. You were different though, you weren’t a man at all.

But as you straddled her lap you seemed to drink up her appearance. Your eyes fell on every flick of light in her eyes and every curve in her hips.

“No it’s just—“ She tried to process her thoughts, “—Well, it usually goes by faster than this.”

“Oh, am I not quick enough for you, Lute?” You tease, giving her knuckles one more kiss before moving down her arm.

Lute thought for a moment she should clarify her comment wasn’t a knock on you, or anything like that.

She thought maybe that’s why sex never lasted long. Every time she spoke she sounded meaner and more aggressive than she meant too.

She guessed that everyone she’s laid with probably didn’t like her cold demeanor. Well, they weren’t alone because, she didn’t like it either.

“God, you’re so pretty,” you breathe against her neck as your fingers trace down her body. Her breath hitched at your gentle touches.

“Don’t lie,” she commanded. If there was one thing Lute was known for, it was her intensity and strength in battle, not her beauty.

“I’m not,” you planted a kiss on her neck and slipped your fingers down to her already wet panties, “Your the most beautiful woman i’ve ever met, sweetie.”

Your kiss traces closer to her jawline and you bite down softly, making her gasp. Somehow, even your hickeys were laced with tenderness, it almost made her sick.

“Ah— wait I—“ She felt one of your fingers slip into her pussy and she grabbed your shoulders to hold onto.

She’d never been doted on like this. Nothing in Lutes life had ever been gentle. When she wasn’t fighting in a ruthless battle with literal maniacs, she was training or taking sexist jeers from Adam.

She moaned softly and gripped your arms tighter when she felt another finger inside her, paired with another gentle bite on her neck.

“You’re amazing,” You whisper, working your fingers in her pussy, “You’re so amazing, and pretty, and good for me, baby.”

She couldn’t help but whine and bury her face in your neck. You kiss her head and slowly add another finger to her cunt, hesitantly glancing down at Lute to make sure it wasn’t too much.

Your glance of approval was met with a soft moan. She pulled her face out of your neck and her hands crept up to your cheeks, pulling you in for a a hungry kiss.

You sink into it and scissor your fingers slightly, making her whine into your mouth and furrow her brows.

When she pulled away she looked dazed, “Nngh, no one’s ever—“ she closes her eyes and tries to get her thoughts in order, “—ever treated me like this.”

Her voice wavered when she finished her sentence and she put her forehead against yours. Her hands fall on each side of your neck.

“Everyone who has half a brain should treat you just like this, baby,” You tease her clit, softly, just grazing it, “You deserve everyone to worship you like this. My beautiful angel, my pretty girl.

“No I—“ Lutes back arched up into you and her nails dug into your neck, “Ungh, Stop it, wait.”

She grinds down onto your fingers, aching for more of you, yearning for your nice words. She liked being treated like this, despite the downside of vulnerability, she liked feeling special.

She liked feeling like a treasure. She arched up into you as you played with her clit, grasping onto your back, desperately trying to bring you closer.

Her eyes watered and her voice broke the next time she moaned your name. A noticeable rasp crept into her whimpers and she whined for more.

“So good for me, such pretty noises, such a good girl,” you kissed the side of her head and rubbed your fingers her clit quicker, making her whine and claw at your back.

You were sure she was leaving deep scratches because it stung like hell.

“‘m close,” she moaned out, riding your hand more vigorously. By this point she was crying at your nice words, as those came so rare to her.

“‘m gonna cum, please, baby,” she whined into your neck.

“Alright baby just give me a second hold on,” you mutter just loud enough for her to hear.

She waited to see what you would do next, what you would say to her. To her dismay, your fingers pulled out of her.

Lute whined loudly at the emptiness in her pussy. Her brain was too fuzzy to formulate a reason as to why you would do that.

Until you kissed her slowly, slipping your tongue in. She milked the kiss for all it was worth, hoping it would coax your digits back into her.

Instead, your head slowly sank down her body, leaving trails of kisses down her stomach before stopping at her pussy.

It was glistening wet and puffy from the attention, looking absolutely beautiful.

“Please,” Lute weeped, biting her lip to quiet herself down, “Your— your tongue—“ She whines loudly when she feels you get closer, your breath on her cunt.

“Deep breaths, baby. Doing so good for me, waiting so patiently, my sweet girl,” your face inches closer to her leaking folds and she moans in anticipation.

In one swift motion you bury your face in her pussy, drinking up her fluids in long drown out licks. You savored every taste of her and every moan she let out because of it.

Her shaking thighs tightened around your head and you held them down while you devoured her.

“Ungh— Close, god please,” she whines, desperately as she feels you suck on her clit.

All of your attention tugged at her heart string tremendously. Usually, nothing in Lutes life was actually about her. If she wasn’t serving and agreeing with Adam’s every word, she was keeping the army in order.

You drank up her pretty cunt until she finally screamed, thighs squeezing around you, and then releasing all over your face.

You licked all of it up that you possibly could before finally emerging.

She looked absolutely blissed out on the mattress, panting for breath, cheeks wet with tears. You crawled back up to her and kissed her jawline, working your way up to her lips.

She was too tired to fully kiss back, so you kissed her forehead, and began to leave the mattress.

She grabbed your wrist weakly before gazing up at you with needy eyes.

“please, I need you,” she pleaded. “I want more.”

a/n — MY BABY SHES MY BABY I LOVE HER I NEED HER TO KNOW HOW AMAZING SHE IS SHES MY BABY anyways guys i really like Lute!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader #lute hazbin hotel #hazbin lute

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nothingbynova · 1 month

Text

Luke Castellan Headcanons

summary: 20 of my personal headcanons that i’ve created about our beloved luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 570

warning(s) : lots of fluff, some kissing, cute moments and luke being luke

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note: i need this man so bad.

dedications: my bestfriend @dalgonacafe :)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who holds your hand every time he knows something is scaring you. Nodding his head toward you to signal that everything will be okay because he's here.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who wipes the tears off your face and does his best to reassure you. Rubbing his hand across your cheeks and telling you how amazing of a person you are.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who places sweet and gentle kisses along your jawline when you're ranting about something stressful. Whispering about how much he loves you, showing you how much he cares both mentally and physically.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who fights off anyone who tries to pick a fight with you. Even challenging million year old gods in order to protect you.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who taught you how to wield a sword so that you knew how to defend yourself. Standing behind you, hand around yours as he swings the sword in your hand, showing how to slice properly

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who steals chocolate from the other cabins everytime you tell him that you're craving it. Even if he gets in trouble its always worth it to see you happy

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who makes you slow dance with him in the middle of the forest. Having the plants make faint music while his hands grip your waist and guide you to follow his lead.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who studies anything you mention to him once. He wants to understand all of your hobbies to the deepest level that he can, because he loves you.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who talks you through your emotions and feelings. He would rather spend hours discussing what he can do better than to ever lose you.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who tells all his friends how much he adores you and then gets embarrassed when they tell you what he said.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who sits on your bed and reads your books to you when you're tired. He knows how comforting they are and they always help you fall asleep faster.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who kisses you like his life depends on it. Always saddened and pouting when you pull away from him.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who was able to sneak your favorite animal into camp because you wouldnt stop mentioning how badly you wanted one.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who never lets you hold your own bags. Always carrying them for you without you ever having to ask.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who always watches your favorite mortal made movies with you inside your cabin.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who begged percy to turn the ocean’s water a little warmer so that you guys could go swimming in the middle of winter.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who traveled through 6 different dimensions in order to find you after a minotaur kidnapped you.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who purposely gets the dining pavilion before you in order to make both of you incredibly large and delicious plates of food.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who taught himself how to weld in order to make you guys matching promise rings.

☆ Luke Castellan, the boy who sacrificed his own life because you were going to be killed by Kronos.

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke castellan pjo #percy jackon and the olympians

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kissitbttr · 2 months

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mafia!toji first time meeting stripper!reader

a/n: reader is fem. and since i’ve been hit with biggest writers block known to a man, this one is inspired by one of my old work called gold. enjoy!

toji zenin is a ruthless man. that, you can definitely count on.

he’s known to be the one who shows little to no mercy. who’s soul isn’t as clean due to the countless of lives he had taken.

as crazy as it sounds, toji craves for the sound of piercing cries from someone who begs to spare them compassion. he likes to taunt them. mock them. pretending that he would eventually let them go just to see that little flicker of hope lighting upon their gaze.

a sinister smile would play coyly upon his lips before he decides the latter. pulling the trigger and watches the victim face planting the dark tile as their brains scatter all over the walls and floor.

it’s one way to teach people a lesson to not fuck with him. to not fuck with his business. because toji zenin is crazy like that.

he has no time for patience nor pity.

toji fixes the collar of his black sheer shirt, checking himself out in the mirror to make sure he looks good tonight. who are we kidding though? he’s toji fucking zenin,

tonight was supposed to be his day off. he had plans. before a motherfucker who runs a strip club decides to mess with him about the package deal and had almost lost him half of the money he’s supposed to own,

he could’ve let his right hand man to handle it. but this is bigger than anything he had ever done. is this goes to south, then one person’s death wouldn’t be the only thing on his agenda,

he’ll track down every single one of the bastards and kill them with his own hands,

however, tonight needs to be as clean as possible.he’s aware of the reputation he has put on himself to the world, so no point of hiding or camouflage. yet, he still doesn’t want to cause too much of a scene,

stepping away from the full length mirror, he swiftly picks his black velvet coat off the hanger before shrugging it on,

“talk to me, satoru” his heavy voice echoes the hallway as he steps out of the room to walk downstairs, watching a few of his men pocketing their weapons,

gojo satoru. his right hand man, nods,

“he’s there. word from bianco. he appears isn’t expecting you to stop by” he informs, showing toji the message on his phone. “it’s going to be crowded. but bianco is taking care of that right now. he’s got nowhere to run”

toji scoffs, snatching a glass of whiskey off the table before downing the remaining drink. “good. i need him to see me when he less expects it. owes me more than some fucking money” he mutters, tucking the G21 down his holster.

gojo raises an eyebrow. “G21? you’re going soft tonight eh, boss?”

toji shoots him a hard glare, one where the white haired man only chuckle at. “the car’s ready?”

another nod, gojo leads toji down towards the basement. “as requested. Lamborghini Murcielago. your personal favorite. packed with 640 PS and 471 Kw—i think you know what that means— rules around 213 mph if you consider on going hit and run. i packed a standard aeropack wing if you wanna go slow. windows? bulletproof. in case anyone tries to kill you” toji knows for a fact that gojo is only joking about the last part.

no one dares to try to take him down before he does it. it’s a pattern everyone knows by now,

toji lets out a low whistle, head softly shaking at the machine beauty before him. fingers tracing along the hood of the car,

“shit—you know i need to lay low, man? got anything less attractive?”

“i don’t do less. you know that, boss” he winks playfully, laughing to himself when he watches toji rolls his eyes. “besides. this thing right here will for sure earns you a bird. take her out on a stroll, bring her home. women love fast cars” he comments,

humming as a response, toji walks towards the driver’s seat. “i don’t date. were you born yesterday or something?” he speaks in a firm tone before catching the keys that gojo throws at him,

“no I wasn’t. but isn’t ‘she who shall not be named’ is like what? two years ago? and you got to stop with the one night stands. go get a girl tonight” he suggests, watching the dark haired man sliding himself into the car,

toji gives him a half hearted smile. “noted”

“i’ll be right behind you, boss. slow down, yeah?”

it takes about thirty minutes prior to arrival. toji blames it all on the traffic and the slow pedestrians crossing the road. cursing to himself every five seconds, each time he stops at red lights.

he parks his car close to the entrance before exiting from the vehicle, tossing his keys at one of the valet but not before roughly grabbing his collar and threaten to kill him if one scratch is prominent on his car.

clearing his throat, he walks into the bar. ignoring the stares and whispers at the sight of a notorious ruthless man who decides to pay the club a visit.

one thing he first to notice, the club is indeed packed. gojo wasn’t lying. as if God knew what is about to happen later on and isn’t going to let him get away with witnesses. he needs to play it safe tonight.

as he strides through the darkened room to find the table he had been reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him. delicate fingers stroking his chest and brushing against his shoulders, making him smirk. he can’t lie, most of them are gorgeous and he’s tempted enough to touch their skin, but he has to hold it. not that he isn’t interested, because his mind changed. he is definitely taking someone back to his place tonight.

fucking gojo. he has to be right every time.

speak of the devil, the white haired man appears by his side in minutes. nodding his head towards the area where the business should be conducted. toji follows him close towards the end of the room,

he gently pulls back a chair for him to sit, as gojo and the two of his other men stands behind to watch over. toji specifically asks for the furthest table, with a glass of whiskey has been prepared for him.

toji feels irritated. he hates doing all of this dirty work just because some fucking bastard isn’t able to keep up with the deal. he should’ve known not to trust alec to do business, yet when the pathetic excuse of a man begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head, toji thought why not? if he didn’t get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way.

“alright, alright—fuck! easy man!” alec’s frantic voice causes toji’s eyes to avert from the scene of the crowd. his eyebrows knitted, threatening gaze bores upon the man whose pushed forcefully by his men to sit, “mr. zenin! it’s always a pleasure to see you!”

mind that alec owes him more than fifty grand, and this fucker had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened,

he is definitely going to kill him,

“you don’t fucking talk to me that way, alec. i’m not your friend. you owe me something” toji warns, his finger pointing at him as he watches the trembling man gulp. “you remember?”

alec couldn’t feel more terrified as he casts a glance of toji’s gun on the table, facing towards him. “i—i know, man—sir” he corrects himself. “i didn’t forget. it’s just that the money is tight right now. the girls aren’t earning amount of money they—“

toji could only scoff, head thrown back. “i didn’t fucking hire your girls. i hired you. stop being a pussy and own up to that. you should know that me and patience never get along. i have one body bag left in my car and it would give me the tremendous pleasure writing your name on it” he grits his teeth, looking at alec with a dark look in his eyes as he balls his fist,

“i just need more time—“

“one month isn’t enough?!” toji barks, making alec jumps at the booming voice

“i need more. i promise. give me one more month. and i will do whatever you ask me to, sir zenin.” alec begs with hopeful eyes,

toji finds it disgusting and repulsive to see someone like him begging for mercy. or anyone at all. that gesture is weak and vulnerable. “i don’t give out second chances”

alec hears a gun clicks from behind. he doesn’t need to ask, he knows that one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. “sir zenin, please! just one more chance! please”

once again, toji isn’t a very patient man. he knows enough to understand that it’s a mistake. but he would love to see how this one goes, playing along with this little game of his.

toji isn’t a fool. never was.

he looks over at gojo, as if to ask what he thinks. the answer that gojo could give is ‘your choice, boss’

toji sighs, head shaking. “fine. you give me your best girl of the night, and i’ll give you one more month” he offers, taking a sip of his drink, leaning himself back to relax. “no more than that”

alec nods. though he feels like shitting himself because one month isn’t close enough for collecting the amount of money he owes toji to. still, he thinks this is better than nothing.

“take your pick, mr. zenin. or i could bring one or two here? we have twins in the back and they sure are on high demand, everyone has been begging me to—“

toji could only hum in response, not listening to a word he’s saying. his green eyes scanning over at the scene. the girls are putting on a show, showing off their skills, some are pulling a lap dance on a few customers. he cringes when one suddenly takes her bra off like she costs nothing. seems like none of these girls are his type. gorgeous? yes. but they don’t seem to do enough to make his cock twitch,

he’s about to take back the offer until his eyes fall on her. eyes widening in amusement and toji finds himself freezing on the spot.

a slight curvier woman has her leg hooked around the pole. long dark haired brushing against the marble floor as she arches her back slightly. toji observes the way her body moves so sensually yet gracefully, almost like a feather. the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her eyes manage to flirt with the crowd with one simple look. she has them lured into her presence. himself included.

her body—fuck, he doesn’t even know where to begin. delicious curves cladded in navy blue bodysuit, full breasts supported by the cup of her outfit that bounces each time she moves. soft thick thighs wrapped by a white fishnet stockings and legs decorated in white fuzzy pumps. overall it’s quite revealing, but it still presents the modesty she has on her. he’s not quite sure if it’s the outfit or it’s just her,

but only a fool would assume that it isn’t the latter.

toji feels his pants growing tight when his gaze lowers to how her hips moving in circles. in painfully slow motion too. almost like she knows how to tease and she’s doing it so perfectly. if only he had spotted her from before, he would’ve move closer.

a damn fucking beauty she is.

“her. i want her” toji speaks in a firmer tone, almost territorial. he just can’t take his eyes off the woman. watching every single move and a wink being thrown.

he chuckles when she swats a couple of old hands who seems desperate to try and cope a feel with a dirty look on her face. he couldn’t make out what she’s saying but he knows for sure that she’s telling them off,

‘gorgeous and a fighter’ he thinks to himself

“angel? you want her?” alec asks after he realizes who he’s pointing at,

“that’s her real name?”

“no. she doesn’t let anyone know her real name. she goes by that ever since she starts working here” alec informs, watching toji nods,

so she’s new?

“some calls her birthday cake”

that makes toji’s brows scrunched. he is about to ask why the name until the answer is immediately given to him when she decides to do a side split, making her plump ass bounce against the floor.

oh that’s why

“gorgeous” toji breathes, cocking his head to the side. “not taken is she? not that i care anyway. what a fucking dime she is. you’re going to give her to me, correct?” his voice is threatening enough, dark eyes moving to look at alec who nods.

“yes! of course, sir! if that’s what you want”

“fuck yes i do. bring her to me” he demands before gulping down his drink, watching how alec immediately scrambles off the chair and hurries towards where angel is performing,

toji keeps his eyes set on the mysterious lady. refusing to move. he doesn’t want to miss a single thing. especially when she’s on her hands and knees, ass up in the air for the crowd to see and eyes looking over her shoulder earning cheer, applause and money flown just for her.

gojo lets out a wolf whistle. “good choice, zenin”

he hums, the girl now up on her feet. lifting herself up after she hooks her arm around the pole and give them a twirl. “tell me gojo. have you seen anyone as beautiful as she is?”

“definitely not. you just might hit the jackpot”

indeed he did. toji may have made a lot of mistakes but he’s never wrong when it comes to choosing partners . he’s always careful with it.

there is something so different about her and he’s very sure about it too. from how she’s not afraid to tell the men in the audience off, putting that smart mouth to use. unlike the girls he has seen around where they just take the humiliation. but her?

she fights back. just how he likes his women.

“fuck off alec, i mean it! my shift is almost over. i’m not interested being passed around to your friends or co-workers!”

he hears her protest. toji doesn’t even realize that she’s walking closer towards his table with alec’s grip around her elbow,

“who said anything about passing you around? i just need to introduce you to one of the most important men here!” alec defends,

“weird way of saying you want me to suck their cocks” she comments

a foul mouth indeed toji thinks

alec throws her a hard glare, in which she only scoffs and roll her eyes. “mr. toji zenin, I would like to introduce you to angel. she’s been here for almost a year now.”

toji grins at that, standing up from his chair and looks over at the beauty with a disinterested look on her face. seemingly look like she doesn’t want to be here. yet she smiles at him anyway, and he swears he has never seen something so pretty,

“nice to meet you, beautiful ” toji extends his hand for her to take, giving a soft kiss on it. his eyes aren’t looking away from hers. “hell. you’re even gorgeous up close”

she won’t deny it. this man is absolutely handsome. and she doesn’t see a lot of them working here. most are old and married, which something that she finds disgusting. but this man, toji? he is far from ugly.

first thing she noticed was how broad he’s built. the way he towers over her and he’s not even standing that close to her small figure. even the dark room fails to hide the definition of his muscles through the black shirt he’s wearing. and the thin scar over his pulled lips, showcasing a smirk.

is this man even a man?

as handsome as he is, angel raises an eyebrow, not feeling entirely influenced by the gesture. “so have you been observing me this whole time? that’s creepy”

“angel” alec hisses, gripping her elbow a bit tighter making her flinch a bit and her body to cowers a little.

“sorry” she mutters in irritation, gaze falling down to the floor

the interaction somehow irks toji to the bone. he eyes how alec treats her in front him, it would probably even worse behind closed doors.

he doesn’t even want to know.

“you can fucking let go now alec, you’re hurting her” toji demands, throwing him a sharp stare. alec’s pupils are wide open at that, causing him to release his grip almost immediately and for angel to nurse her reddening skin.

one thing that toji wouldn’t accept, is violence against women.

toji’s gaze beginning to soften yet again when he watches the pretty girl before him. how her long hair cascading down her back, exposing the sharp of her collarbones and valleys of her breasts,

if only her look of fear is replaced with a look of comfort,

“you can leave us be. thanks” toji coldly orders at alec, not wanting to be near his presence anymore. he’s had enough seeing that bastard,

he nods, avoiding his stare but not before muttering a ‘don’t fuck this up’ to angel before one toji’s men escorts him out,

“don’t worry about him doll. he’s gone, yeah?” he comforts her almost immediately, not wanting her to be scared anymore,

“oh—yeah, uhm thanks” she shoots him a smile. a genuine one this time, taking his hand in hers when he offers it. "so how do you want this--''

“if you don’t mind” he puts a hand behind her back immediately to guide her to the couch behind, earning a quizzical look on her face. “i want to get to know you first”

“mr. zenin. with all due respect, this is not a date. i’m working”

he chuckles at her forward response, still she lets him lead to the velvet couch. angel sits first, eyes glancing up for a moment and see a handsome white haired man with his arms crossed. he quickly removes himself from the presence and walk out. his other men following him from behind.

and now there’s just two.

“i just want to take my time with you. is that okay?” toji sits back down, watching her crossed her legs as she keeps the distance between them,

she smiles with a shrug, toying with the strap of her bra, “you could do that while i’m giving you a dance—if you want?”

toji makes a mental note on how her eyes glow under the violet lights when she stares at him. almost like it’s so easy for him to see what goes beyond that. they’re so so pretty. prettiest he’s ever seen indeed. despite the flirty tone lacing under her response, she still has the look of innocence that makes him smile back.

she’s no better too. the way he’s looking directly into her eyes should be a crime. his gaze speaks something. something… lustful and dangerous.

he nods, letting out a breathe of relief as he leans himself back before spreading his thighs as an invitation.

“show me what you got then gorgeous”

angel swears she can hear the beat of her heart getting louder the moment she sits herself down on his lap. still, without him having to suspect anything, she keeps her flirty persona for a show.

“my, my—you really are a fucking dime” he lowly whistles, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. “i can see why people were loving you back there. hopefully they don’t get jealous when i stole you away”

she giggles, a small blush creeping on her cheeks. “aren’t you a flirt. you do this to every girl?”

toji places his hands on her plump ass, resting it there. he knows that there are rules where it’s forbidden you touch the dancers. but he doesn’t give a shit. and it’s not like anyone had the balls to tell him off anyway.

“only to those who i find interesting, baby” he says, eyes not looking away from the beauty as be squeezes her flesh making himself groan. “fuck me. that’s an ass? right here?”

his comment makes her laugh as she throws her head back. loving how genuine he actually sounds when he said that.

“so—mr. zenin” she begins, giving him a naughty smile as her hands finds their way to his shoulders, feeling how tense they are under his grip. “what brings you to this awful depth of town, hm?”

he clears his throat, wetting down the bottom of his mouth while keeping his hands steady on her hips. finding no desire to move them. “business. your bastard of a boss owes me something. I didn’t think i would actually be here right now, accompanied by a gorgeous woman like yourself”

damn. he sure is charming and cheeky. definitely a player. “you sure are a sweet talker, mr. zenin” she tells him before slowly beginning to grind against his bulge causing him to exhale another deep groan. “are you sure—you don’t make bitches wet talking like that?”

he mutters a low ‘christ’ when he feels himself growing hard under her sultry move, yet she isn’t stopping. and she only had just started. “believe me doll, i’ve had my fair shares with many—but damn, they sure don’t make me hard like you do—cross my heart”

her hips the move in tiny circles, keeping a painfully slow pace but enough to keep him satisfied. “i don’t trust you but okay—anyway, what did you and alec talked about anyway?”

“nosy, huh?”

she rolls her eyes. “i have the right to ask since he practically sold me to you for tonight—my shift was supposed to be over, mr. zeni—“

“toji” he cuts her off, thumb softly stroking against her hip bone

“what was that?”

“just call me toji” he repeats with a small grin. “and okay that’s fair—he has something very important of mine. was supposed to pay a month ago, but that piece of shit isn’t known to be the one who keeps his promises”

she hums in response, leaning herself back slowly and rests her palms upon his knees to keep her body steady. her hips are now moving back and forth.

toji shamelessly let his eyes wander down from her breasts to her thick thighs. “i was going to blow his brains out tonight. right here. on this one spot. but he begged like a bitch and i wanted to see how far he goes” he laughs almost darkly,

it scares her a little by how calm he’s being about murdering someone. with the way his eyes staring at her aren’t really helping too. like a predator eyeing his prey. almost like he knows how to make her weak on the knees.

“looks like he’s in big big trouble, then” she giggles cutely. “not surprised anyway. he owes alot of money to the girls too. mine included”

he cocks an eyebrow, feeling himself tensing. “does he now? how long?”

“can’t count. i had to pull bunch of shitty excuses to the landlord just so he won’t kick me out of the apartment. half of our earnings each night, goes to him. saying that he’ll pay me back but I know he never will” she spills casually, then her movement comes into a halt. “oh fuck, don’t tell him i said that”

with a chuckle, his head shakes. “i won’t. but i could kill him for you, if you want me to. just say the word” he speaks lowly, continuing to admire her body. “mind if i ask how long have you been working here?”

it takes her a while to answer. “almost a year. I quit college for this. not because i love it entirely, but i couldn’t pay for it anymore.” she sighs,

“i’m sorry to hear that. what were you studying?”

“bio-engineering” she smiles, “people tend to be surprised when i told them that”

“count me in as well, sweetheart, damn. not only she’s hot as fuck but she’s smart too?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “you even real, right now?”

she laughs, flipping her hair. “thank you, toji—can i ask you something?”

he hums, callouses hands move towards her back, holding her steady,

“what happened there” she points at the scar, struggling to find the urge not to trace her fingers across it,

he shrugs, “was from a fight years ago. nothing major”

“can i—touch it?” she softly asks him, looking so innocent yet teasingly,

toji smirks, head nodding. “go ahead, baby” he speaks in a low baritone. voice so deep and flirty that it almost makes her squirm,

she ignores the butterflies in her stomach when he calls her that. and without being told twice, she leans closer and her fingers reach out to pad the scar gently. feeling how soft his lips against her skin, paying attention to every single detail of it. wondering how on earth could a scar fit someone so perfectly.

there is no doubt on her mind, that he is the sexiest man she has ever come across to. she can feel the weight of his palm lowering itself down to her plump cheek, squeezing it. usually, she would tell anyone off for touching her like that. but this time, she doesn’t say anything. not because she’s afraid of him but she feels strangely turned on.

“fuck” he breathes out, feeling her ass one more time. hearing him like that just makes her giggle as she gradually picks up the pace grinding on him, catching toji off guard.

“such a naughty little girl—bet you wouldn’t mind having that ass spanked now would you?” he whispers against her ear, biting his lower lip hard.

though she would admit that she wouldn’t, she won’t allow him to win this game. she slowly shakes her head with a smirk, removing herself off his lap causing him to whine. angel spins around, not without swaying her ass side to side, sneaking a glance to make sure he’s watching,

her hand immediately circles around the pole in front of them. “dinner is mandatory if you want to go down to that path, mr. zenin”

toji watches carefully with lust and admiration as she now securing her arm around the golden pole, lifting herself off easily and give her body a gentle spin. eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. coming back down slowly, she re-enacts the movement from where she performed for the audience. legs spread apart, landing in a perfect split. long brown hair covering the side of her beautiful features, tongue licking her upper lip.

he follows the curve of her ass, eager to get his hands on them but he knows that he has to wait. there, he spots a small heart tattoo inked on her ass cheek,

angel is a little teaser. that’s for sure. enjoying herself too much in making a man hard yet refuses to be under the spell of a man’s touch. he likes that actually. likes that a lot. it may be painful to have his cock hard at the moment while she’s not doing anything about it but she’s worth it.

so, so worth it.

“you are so. fucking. sexy.” his voice switches into something darker, a seductive grin slowly forming as he thirsts over her. “must have made a lot of men mad out there”

“so i have been told” she declares with confidence, innocent smile pulling upon her lips as she begins to gently crawl towards him, eyes never leaving his.

she halts in between his open legs, settling on her knees. being the little minx she is, her hands find a place on top of his thighs. “i sense you carry danger everywhere you go, mr. zenin—am i wrong?”

she’s not dumb. she spotted his gun strapped against his holster an hour before she was even being introduced to the man.

he delicately caresses her soft cheek, almost came in his pants when she leans against his palm. “why? that scares you?” he moves a few strands of hair that are blocking his view of her pretty face,

she shakes her head, a smile doesn’t leave her face. in fact, he hears a soft giggle escapes her.

his eyes move from the curve of her breasts and up to her mouth. eyeing the way that pink gloss compliments her pretty skin.

“would love to have a taste—right here” toji whispers, his thumb grace her lower lip. his breath immediately hitches, and a groan rumbles deep in his chest the moment she opens her mouth.

“fuck—what a good girl” he moans lowly when she lets his thumb rest upon her warm wet tongue. the angelic look in her eyes disappears and is replaced with a look of lust. “s-shit” it takes him by surprise when she decides to suckle it, head bobbing her head up and down painfully slow,

“jesus—i wish it was my cock you’re sucking right now, baby” nonetheless, the amount of pleasure she’s giving him is enough to keep him satisfied,

“holy fuck, wow” she pops her lips off his thumb. wiping the saliva from the corner of her mouth before giggling again. the sound makes toji smile. genuinely.

“you’re trouble” he comments with a tsk, chuckling at the way she shrugs innocently as if she has no idea what he’s talking about. “alright. up you get, baby”

she gives him a questionable look, following his movement and rise to her feet. “mr. zenin, we still have thirty minutes left. alec gave me at least an hour and he would be upset if i—“

“if he touches you, you tell me and i’ll kill him. understand?” toji sternly orders, brows furrowing at the thought of that lowlife bastard putting his hands on her,

she’s baffles at that. how could he know what goes behind closed doors? still she nods anyway. “yes, sir”

“toji, baby. toji” he corrects with a smile. “besides, if i stayed for another ten minutes, i’ll l cream in my pants and that would be embarrassing” he shamelessly points out. she blushes at that and it makes toji’s heart skips a bit,

“this doesn’t mean it’s a one and done. i would love to see you again, sweetheart. can’t let you go too far now can i?” he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands her thick amount of hundreds. “here you go, angel”

she gasps softly as her eyes go big, shocked by the bundle of cash in his hand. if she counts it right that’s gotta be at least close to one grand.

“toji this is—fuck this is too much, I—i can’t take these. twenty or fifteen is enough for me”

he frowns. who in the right mind think it’s okay for men to tip a gorgeous woman with a rocking body some loose change? fucking assholes.

“baby, you do realize who you’re talking to? i don’t give out twenty or less” he quirks an eyebrow, watching her adorable expression. “money isn’t a problem to me. a grand isn’t a problem to me. come on, you deserve it”

she stares down at his hand and hesitantly takes the money. flashing him a wide smile. “mr—i mean, toji, oh my god thank you so much. thank you, thank you!” without any second thoughts, she jumps out and wrap her arms around his neck,

“you don’t know how much this means to me. i needed this”

toji stumbles a bit, the sudden movement surprises him but he appreciates it. the way she keeps thanking him, muttering couple of blessings has somehow gives his heart a little kick,

a good one.

“no need to thank me, baby” toji grins, holding her by the waist to keep her secured for a moment before pulling away. “you take care of yourself yeah? don’t be wandering too far. would love to take you out on a stroll” he leans down to peck her cheek,

“I’ll be sure to stop by and see you again, gorgeous” with one last devilish smile, he walks out of the room. leaving her still in complete shock,

he is no ordinary man, alright. it kinda makes her feel a bit weird by all the butterflies that are erupting her stomach by how he acted earlier. has it been.. what? two or three years since she had been engaged in any sort of relationships with a man. and there has been no real man crawling around this city. only rats. she fucking hates rats.

but toji zenin? there’s definitely something about him that makes his whole aura and appearance a lot more sexier. again, she’s not stupid. she has seen the gun. observed his interaction with her boss. and the men he had protecting him suits?

that’s no 9-5 man. it’s dirty work.

and it should’ve scared her. it should’ve been a warning made for her to run and avoid him because he’s a man that carries danger everywhere he goes. toji zenin is a man that would not hesitate to paint the whole town in blood of his victims if one ever crosses his territory.

yet as she glances down at the bills being handed at her and promise from him that he would see her again, it makes her smile. heart thumping at the thought of the beautiful man coming back only for her.

angel clutches the money against her chest, squealing as she does little bounces in her heels with a giggle. overjoyed with the amount of cash that would help her,

she’s definitely making toji her new favorite client

#mafia!toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro blurbs #toji fushiguro smut #jjk

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vxnuslogy · 1 month

Text

— lost to time ft. sae itoshi

— warnings: angst, character death, slight ooc?

— author's note: a reupload of my favorite work on sae while i finish editing the next 2 chapters of my hazbin series. enjoy!

— first recording

“hi sae! i heard from rin that you’ll be leaving for spain. i’m really sorry i couldn’t come to see you off, i’ve been busy studying, you know, for exams and stuff. but that’s beside the point! i wish you all the best sae! do your best and when you come back home, you better be the world’s best striker yeah? don’t worry, everything will pass by quickly so don’t miss me too much ok?”

sae hated planes. he hated them quite a lot. in was a constant reminder of that time when he was only 14, leaving home to go to spain to live out his dreams only for it to be crushed 4 years later. sae hated the airport, it was always so busy and so stuffy and so cramped. he hated the feeling of being surrounded by unfamiliar strangers, hated the feeling of people brushing up against him even if they didn’t really mean it. sae hated winter. it was the season he severed his bond with his precious little brother after all. it was the season he turned his back on him and it was the season he had wished to never relive again.

— second recording

“hey hey guess who’s sending you another voice message? it’s me obviously, why didn’t you tell me you were back already?! if you did i would’ve picked you up from the airport!

……

is something the matter sae? you haven’t picked up any of your parents’ calls and their really worried about you. you can always talk to me remember? i’ll always be here to listen, ok? don’t bottle everything up, it’ll do more bad than good. well, i have to go now. talk with your parents every once in a while will you? ever since you left for spain you’ve pretty much cut off all contact, even with me. that’s all, good night sae.”

sae didn’t really like flowers. he thought they were a hassle. plants that require specific needs and if not met, they’ll wilt. sae was never fond of them but here he was, standing in front of the counter of a local flower shop as the elderly shopkeeper wrapped a bouquet – filled with carnations, gardenias, lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums.

everything passes.

— college; third recordings

“i got into my dream college sae! can you believe that! honestly, i was really nervous when i took the entrance exams, but thankfully i studied real hard and managed to pass! i’ll be moving into the dorms soon. i’m gonna miss home. oh and rin! i heard he got into a soccer program recently, isn’t that nice! he’s following your footsteps in becoming the best striker in the world. i know, i know, you aren’t a striker anymore but it’s still nice to know that you’re still into soccer at least. by the way, when will you come back home? i kind of miss you, you know. i never got to see you off and when you did come back i was out of town and really busy. what about we plan a meetup or something in the near future? you know, make up for the times we lost? oh, i have to go now! my parents are helping me move in to my dorm. catch you later sae!”

sae didn’t really like coming home. the house he grew up in for the first 14 years of his life felt too foreign to be called home anymore. his parents felt like distant strangers that he just met a couple weeks ago – they felt more like acquaintances than his mother and father. the photos framed around his home felt like ancient relics from thousands of years ago, he didn’t recognize them. sae didn’t recognize himself.

maybe he spent too much time in spain to the point where it felt more like home. how ironic, he began to realize. he had flown back to japan to escape from his hell that was spain but here he was, in his home, in the bedroom he used to sleep in for endless nights, wanting to go back to the place that left his heart hollow.

“there’s nothing else i could do.” he tried to convince himself as he sat down on his childhood bed, the bouquet of flowers at his side. he could only sigh and let himself fall back into the bed of his long gone home. “everything passes.”

“hey hey hey it’s me again! how have you been sae? i’d like to think that i’ve adjusted pretty well in college. made a few new friends and met some old ones. honestly, i almost didn’t recognize them! i mean, do you remember makoto from middle school. he was a such a problem child back then and now look at him! he’s a scholar now! i guess everyone just starts to become more mature after hitting 18, who knows. thank you again, for the gift. i was definitely shocked when my roommate told me i had a package from you. i can’t believe you still remember that i wanted ‘no longer human’! thank you, i’ll be sure to treasure it. well, that’s all for today. call you some other time sae!”

everything passes.

— drunk recordings; the words i wish i could’ve told you sooner

“how do you work this again? ah got it! hehe, hi again sae! i’m at a party right now, man maybe you were right, i do have shit alcohol tolerance. but it’s fine. don’t worry, i’m already on my way home and the driver isn’t some creepy dude that might kill me.

……

you know, i like you very much but i don’t think you’ll believe me. i know i jokingly said that we should marry each other if we aren’t dating someone if we hit our 30s, but i kinda wanna marry you even if we aren’t 30 yet. is that weird? i really miss you. please come home.”

……

“hello? god that was so embarrassing… sorry, could you just forget about what i said in the last recording? um just, gosh i don’t even know. denying it won’t really help right haha… it’s in the past now so don’t mull over too much ok? please, just disregard that last recording. i’m really sorry, it was just me being drunk.”

sae did not in fact disregard that recording. in fact, sometimes in the dead of night he’d think about it and wonder, if he had replied to that specific recording would things have ended differently?

sae didn’t like deep and evoking questions about ‘what if’s’, he finds them annoying most of the time. and yet here he was now entertaining the idea. bouquet in hand as he casually walked around the neighborhood that the both of you had grew up in. the same twists and turns, same houses, same playground, same everything.

yet the silence was too loud, even for him.

everything passes.

— graduation recordings

“well, i think it’s safe to say i survived. i graduated sae, are you proud? man i still can’t believe i was a few point from getting the valedictorian spot but oh well. alls well that ends well i suppose. i heard you won your recent match congratulations mr best midfielder! kinda wish i was there to see it, but don’t worry! in your next match i’ll definitely save up enough money and buy those tickets to spain and your match one day! just you wait, i’ll be the screaming my lungs out and support you, i’m still your number one fan after all!”

sae had some feelings of dissatisfaction when you did not in fact get those tickets to spain and his match. maybe it was his wishful thinking but he really did wish you were there. but he knew it was impossible.

he remembered the feeling of anger and frustration running through his veins, cursing the heavens above because he felt the need to show the gods his emotions. sae hated thinking about you in that moment. he hated how he felt like he was in a new version of hell whenever you just happened to cross his mind. sae hated you very much.

everything passes.

— recordings from 2 years ago

“i’m sorry. i know you should’ve heard it from me but i guess my family beat me to it haha. to be perfectly honest with you sae, i had no plans of telling you. i’m sorry. its just, the thought of breaking the news to you. how could i ever do that to you? i’m sorry. god i’m so sorry sae.”

……

“hey. i received the gift you sent me. you didn’t have to , you know. now i kinda feel bad about having you go on break in the middle of soccer season because of me. but still, thank you. i appreciated you being here, with me. it was a refreshing feeling, talking to you again and just hanging out. work has been really stuffy and felt like i was being caged but you came. you suddenly appeared and suddenly everything was alright again. i know we only said goodbye a couple minutes ago but, i miss you already. sorry. this sounds really weird doesn’t it? anyways, thank you again for the gift. i’ll be sure to wear it everyday. that’s all, have a good night sae.”

……

“hey. sorry for calling at such an odd time. i just. i just felt a little lonely. i sound so stupid i’m sorry. good night sae.”

……

“makoto dropped by today. god he was as annoying as ever but he really cheered me up. he managed to confess to this girl he’s pining over since sophomore year. i’m happy for him. but it really got me thinking about us. i know i told you to forget about that one recording because i was drunk but now that i look back on it, i wasn’t really honest. to you and myself. i know this may be the worst timing to confess but yeah, i like you very much. since primary school, as cliche as it may sound i think it all started when you stood up for me from those bullies. now that i think about, i practically glued myself to your side ever since that day didn’t i? i’m glad you didn’t really mind that. i remember always using homework as an excuse to always have you hang out with me even though i completely understood the lesson. man, where did i get the confidence to do that stuff? but i guess those times are lost in the sands of the past i guess. oh right, sorry, i forgot you didn’t really like those type of stuff. getting all deep and whatnot. well that’s all, i’m getting pretty tired already so i’ll head to bed. good night sae.”

everything passes.

— present

“hi. thank you by the way. i don’t know, i just don’t think i’ve ever said that you recently. so, thank you. its a bit funny isn’t it? i would almost always talk your ear off every recording but this time, i can’t even find the words to say. my parents came over, talked to them a bit. rin visited as well. he’s gotten a lot taller than i last saw him, he’s probably taller than you now!

……

sae, thank you. for everything. i’m glad we stayed in touch. i’m glad we stayed as friends. thank you for making my days seem just a tad bit brighter, though sometimes i wonder what it would be like if we were, you know, dating. wonder what the difference would be. i mean we’d still talk to each other right? maybe holding hands and kisses but that’s pretty much it right? but thinking about it is useless right now. maybe in an alternate universe were actually married and adopted a cat like how we used to talk about.”

“you know, before this very moment. i accepted my fate already. i was content, i was doing fine but now. sae, i don’t want to die.”

“please remember me ok? and i’ll be sure to remember you. i’ll see you again, sae.”

“nii-chan..”

sae could only put his phone back in his pocket. his younger brother standing a good distance away from him. he could only imagine how rin looked like right now. was he pitying him, grieving with him? he’ll never know because he will never turn to look at him. not when your right in front of him.

how many times had he played all your recordings for the past 2 years? maybe a little over a 100 times? maybe close to 200 now?

sae removed all those thoughts as he placed the bouquet on the ground, the wind seemed to answer to his call – you seemed to answer to his call. despite all the pain, all the misery, all the bitter waves of grief that flooded his being whenever he played your recordings, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. he didn’t want to forget what you sounded like. your voice reminded him too much of home.

“happy birthday you idiot.” he said to you, keeping his hands in his pockets, watching the leaves of the flowers in the bouquet sway with the wind. two pieces of paper underneath it threatened to be blown away. “you said you wanted to come visit me and watch my match, well now you can.” two pieces of paper, one a plane ticket to spain the other a ticket to his upcoming match two weeks from now. “you better come watch me alright?” he could only bitterly smile.

“you’re 30 now,” he whispered, before getting on one knee. placing a velvet box in front of your gravestone. “you should’ve waited for me, you idiot.” sae could only mutter those words to no one in particular. it was as if the world had stopped for a moment, the wind had stopped howling, the sun was nowhere to be seen. he could only see you. “i wanted to marry you too, y’know.”

sae could remember every occurrence where he would sit at his balcony in spain every night after your passing. phone to his ear, listening to all your recordings. but you’ll never know how he replies to them, every single one of them with his own.

“i told the stars about you and what we could’ve had.” he chuckled, “you’re by far the hardest lesson i had to learn.”

standing up from his kneeling position, he gave you one last look before walking away. rin followed suit, but not before placing something at your grave. a pink book that you had loved till the very end.

sae hated planes, but he flew back to japan every year. sae didn’t really like flowers, but every year he’d get you a pretty bouquet. sae didn’t like coming home but if it meant getting to visit you, he’d come back over and over again. sae didn’t like reading or any deep and evoking questions but he always humored you whenever you asked him.

sae hated all those things but they reminded him too much of you to let them go.

and just like your favorite author, when osamu dazai asked to die, he simplu agreed; but just before his death, he suddenly felt obsession with life.

everything passes. just like how you’ll eventually get lost in the sands of time.

#✒️ — works #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock angst #bllk angst #sae itoshi angst

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fxrmuladaydreams · 3 months

Text

the boss’s daughter (gr63)

george russell x wolff!reader

summary: you become attached to a certain british driver, but he panics when he thinks about the repercussions of your relationship

notes: i’ve only ever written george one other time and it didn’t get all that much love, but that could’ve been bc the tags weren’t working so we’ll see how this goes. i hate having to do math with ages when it comes to fics so we’re all going to pretend that toto and susie are older than they are so they can have a daughter who is age appropriate for george 👍

Your father had tried his hardest, for years, to get you interested in racing. Your parents were Susie and Toto Wolff for god’s sake, it didn’t make any sense to him why you were so disinterested in cars.

Susie tried to convince him it was okay. “So she’s not going to be a Formula One driver, she’ll find something else. Something she enjoys.”

Little did they know that something was going to end up a someone.

Some might’ve called it lazy, your gift to your father on father’s day being the promise you’d attend a race weekend with him. But you would call it financially responsible.

You mother made you keep your promise, even after gifting him something he’d actually use.

“It’ll make him so happy.” She cooed at you.

And happy he was, taking you around the paddock from garage to garage, introducing you to the other team principals, even a few of the drivers. You ended your tour back at the Mercedes building, you father’s arm over your shoulder as he guided you through the crowds.

He tugs you along with him as he talks to the engineers. You’re sure it’s important, but to you it just sounds like nonsense droning on.

Your eyes wander around the garage, stopping on the two drivers standing in the corner.

You’d met Lewis before, you father adored the man. He was invited to various family gatherings and parties. He was sweet, his dog Roscoe even sweeter.

You hadn’t met George yet though. Sure, you’d seen him on the team instagram, accidentally turning himself into a meme practically every weekend.

You watch as George talks animatedly with Lewis, his hair slightly falling into his face. Lewis eventually gives George a pat on his arm, then walks away, leaving the younger driver alone.

“You haven’t taken me to meet George yet.” You tell your father once he’s finished with the engineers, softly tugging at his arm.

He pulls you over to the young British driver, who seems to stand up straighter in the presence of your father.

“George, this is my daughter, Y/n.” He introduces you.

When George’s eyes meet yours, you can’t help but drown in them. The soft green practically glitters in the sun.

“Nice to meet you.” He says, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand in yours and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Toto looks between the two of you and very quickly notices the glint in your eyes. He also notices the way George’s lips tilt upwards in a soft smile.

“Alright, c’mon, let’s leave George to get ready.” He says, attempting to pull you away from George.

“But I want to see the car.” You keep yourself planted in front of George.

“You can go see Lewis’ car. I’m sure George wants some time alone before the race.”

“I can show her. I’m not busy.” George says, shrinking slightly when Toto’s eyes meet his.

“Alright.” Toto says gruffly, making sure to follow right behind you as George leads you to his side of the garage.

George almost looks nervous as he shows you his car, pointing out different things, then showing you everything on the steering wheel. You step closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his as he points at the different buttons.

Toto lets out a breath when it’s time for George to actually get ready for the race and get in the car. He pulls you back over to where he sits with the engineers and sits you down next to him.

The race is long, but at least if you watch the screens you’ll actually be able to see the cars driving as opposed to their zooming by on the actual track.

George only makes it barely outside the podium, scoring P4 after the race. You watch as he pulls his helmet and balaclava off in frustration. His golden hair sticks out in every direction. A light sheen of sweat coats his face, and you can see the light pink imprints on his cheeks from the balaclava.

You’re able to escape your father for a moment after the race to find George talking to some of the Mercedes workers. He’s got his race suit tied around his waist and a water bottle in his hands.

“Hi George.” You say when there’s a break in their conversation.

“Hi Y/n.” He says, giving you a small smile. “I hope you enjoyed your first race.”

You shrug. “It was alright. I much preferred the company before and after the race.” You tell him, letting your hand trail up and down his bicep.

He flushes under your gaze, stuttering out a quick “thank you” before he’s pulled away.

He doesn’t see you again that day, hoping that you’ll decide to attend another race sometime in the future.

You do, hoping to see the British driver again, maybe this time without your father watching over you like a hawk.

You attempt to seem more casual in the garage this week, only letting your eyes wander occasionally in search of George. He’s not hard to find, his height making him easy to see.

You catch his eye as he gets ready for the race. He gives you a soft smile, to which you reciprocate and give him a wink. His face flushes as he quickly tugs the balaclava over his head.

He doesn’t get a podium, but stays pretty high in the points. He’s slick with sweat when he gets out of his car, his hair is flattened to his head, and sticks out when he runs his hands through it.

He lets out a breath when he gets back to his driver’s room, closing the door behind him, but feels it get caught in his throat again when he sees you on his couch.

“Hey George. Good race.” You tell him.

“Th-thank you.” He stutters out. “Who let you in here?” He doesn’t sound put off or offended in his question, he’s genuinely curious as to how you found your way to his room.

“My dad is the team principal. I have access to pretty much wherever I want.” You stand up and slowly walk over to him. “Look at your hair.” You say as you softly run your fingers through the golden strands, attempting to straighten them out.

George huffs out a small laugh, not sure what to do. You’re very close to him now, practically pressed up against him. He can see the sparkles in your eyes, and can smell your sweet shampoo.

You catch his eyes wandering around, seemingly looking anywhere but at you. You use your fingers yo tilt his chin down so that he has to look at you. You smirk up at him.

“Do I make you nervous George?” You ask softly.

His cheeks flush. “No, no, I’m fine.” He gives you an unconvincing smile.

“You are actually.” You tell him as you lean towards him. You give him plenty of time to back away before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

The kiss is brief, teasing. George can’t quite process it’s happening before you pull away.

You give him a soft pat on his chest, the black fireproofs smooth under your hand. “See you later George.” You wink, then leave him in his driver’s room.

George can’t seem to look his boss in the eye after your encounter in his room, especially not when you seem to find him at every race, and pull him into secluded rooms or hallways with your lips attached to his.

He’s in dangerous territory, he knows that. But he can’t stop. Not when your tongue is practically down his throat, and not when he holds you in his arms in his hotel room at night. He’s grown attached to you, addicted one might even say.

He doesn’t know what this is, neither of you have put a label on it yet, but the time you’re spending together sure feels an awful lot like the time a couple would spend together.

He was equally relieved and terrified when you told him that you wanted to make your relationship public. It was in his hotel room, you were wrapped up in his arms and a blanket, playing with his hands when you told him. He was glad to hear that you were in fact dating, that his heart could stop clenching every time he was with you, wondering if it was going to be the last.

He however knew that he was not mentally or physically prepared to find out what was going to happen when Toto found out. Was he going to lose his job? His life? Both were reasonable expectations in his head.

You’d been around George long enough now to sense his unease. You sit up, slightly pulling yourself away from him. “Unless… you don’t want to…”

He can’t speak, he can’t find the right words to say, he’s seemingly paralyzed.

“Okay. I get it.” You say, getting up from his bed. “You can’t date the boss’s daughter. Obviously. It was stupid to think this could work.”

He scrambles up from the bed when he finally processes your words. His sweatpants get caught in the blanket, tugging them lower down his hips. “Y/n, wait-”

You grab your small bag you brought to his room and walk to the door. “It’s okay George. Really, I understand.” You sigh. “I had fun though.” You give him a small smile before leaving.

He gives you space for the rest of the night, hoping that he’ll be able to find you at the track the next day to talk things through. He’s surprised when he doesn’t see you anywhere. He attempts to casually ask Toto where you had gone.

Toto doesn’t think twice before answering. “She wasn’t feeling well. She took a plane back home this morning.”

He waits for you to appear again, race after race after race, hoping that you’ll come back and talk to him. He tries calling, texting, even messaging you via instagram, all of which go ignored.

He feels like he’s lost a part of himself. And he’s determined to get that back.

Toto is surprised to find George at the door to his home over the break. The poor British driver wrapped up in a coat, shivering, clutching an almost frozen looking bouquet in his hands.

“George? What are you doing?” He asks.

George takes a deep breath. “I’m here to see Y/n. We were together during the season, but I made a mistake, and now I’m here to apologize and ask her if she’ll have me. Again.”

Toto looks even more confused. “You were dating my daughter?”

George gulps. “Yes. I was. And it was amazing, and I really care about her. And I would like to keep… dating your daughter…” he trails off.

“Leave.” Toto attempts to shut the door.

“Dad?” George sees you appear behind your father. “George, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to apologize. I shouldn’t have let you leave, and I should’ve been able to make our relationship public. I’m here to ask you for another chance.”

You brush your father out of the way, and grab onto George’s free hand, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him. His hand is freezing, and you feel just how cold his cheeks are when you softly cup his face. You don’t know if the pink blush on his face is from you or the cold.

“No. This is not happening. Absolutely not.” Toto says.

“Dad, I’m dating George. Whether you like it or not.” You turn to face him. “George is a good guy. You know that, you see him practically every weekend. And I’m going to be very upset if you kill and/or fire my boyfriend.”

Toto looks back and forth between the two of you. George with his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and you with a pout on your lips and your eyebrows raised, as if challenging him to do something.

“Fine. You can date my daughter. But no sneaking away at races.” Then he looks directly at you. “No going into his driver’s room.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I won’t go into George’s driver’s room anymore.”

“Anymore?!”

You giggle as George tries to hide himself behind you.

#george russell x reader #gr63 x reader #formula one x reader

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revehae · 3 months

Text

undone

pairing ↠ enemy!jeno x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, enemies au, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, degradation

summary ↠ ever since the two of you could walk, you and lee jeno have had it out for each other. you think that there's a chance he's finally matured and gotten over his inexplicable loathing for you, but when you encounter him after a football game, you finally learn the truth about why jeno doesn't like you.

wc ↠ 4.1k

a/n ↠ part 4/5 of the college-capades series!

don’t like it, don’t read.

just like any other friday night, you were prepared to go home, take a hot shower, and wind down with a video essay while munching on whatever snack you were currently fixated on.

guess what didn’t happen.

bitch, we should really go watch that football game tonight, your best friend said. it’ll be fun, she said.

though you desperately wanted to change out of the jeans that had grown uncomfortable after twelve hours of sporting them, your best friend, persuasive as ever, manipulated your sympathy with claims of all her other friends being busy and the most shiny, pleading eyes.

ultimately, you somehow agreed. your stubborn walls were broken when your best friend wanted something. you told her you would meet her there and hopped in your car, heaving a breath. curse you for being nice. to some people, anyways. sometimes you wished you hated her.

football games were just the last thing on your mind. three years of being a student at this university and you’d never come to a single game. it just wasn’t something you were interested in, especially when the star player was no other than lee jeno, your lifelong enemy.

the disdain you felt for jeno was inexplicable. ever since the sandbox, you just never got along. your family’s never understood the mutual reproach you had for each other and after a couple of dangerously unsuccessful attempts at a reconciliation throughout the years that almost ended with one or both of you in the hospital, they just accepted that you two didn’t like each other.

over the years though, it started to feel more and more one-sided. jeno didn’t go out of his way to get on your nerves anymore. but it makes sense, you thought. we’re grown. it’s a good thing he’s kind of mature. you didn’t disturb him either, rather going out of your way to avoid him whenever you could.

so tonight was just one big slap in the face. almost like it was the universe’s way of telling you to go fuck yourself.

and afterwards, you were positive that you would never be seen at one of these events ever again. sure, your campus football team was everything to brag about if you were a hardcore sports fan that gave a damn, but it was definitely not worth the girls loud cheers that irked your ears when jeno scored the winning touchdown. it was not worth the hollering when his team hoisted him into the air in celebration. that, or you just did not like to see jeno happy at times when you felt borderline miserable.

so three hours later, plus the time it took for you and your friend to do some mandatory socializing with familiar faces, you bid her goodbye and tried to locate your car. given that you were definitely not the first to show up and your school was pretty popular, you didn’t find an available park in the lot.

“hey, wait up,” came a way too familiar voice from behind you.

you barely turned your head, not really having to, but your brows furrowed. why on god’s green earth was lee jeno following you? and in a change of clothes too. jesus christ, i’ve been here way too long.

“not happening,” you hissed irritably. you just wanted to go home.

“fine, i’ll just follow you then.”

you ignored him, not thinking he would genuinely follow you but when you still heard footsteps when you planted your feet in front of your car, you realized you’d definitely underestimated jeno’s weirdness.

still not turning around, you searched your purse for your keys and asked, “you do realize how creepy this is, right?”

jeno shrugged, not that you could see. “well, your idea of a good idea is walking alone in the middle of the night. anybody far more creepy than me could take advantage of an off-guard woman digging around in her purse.”

you scoffed, “i was only digging for a second.”

“that’s all it takes.”

not wanting to admit that he was right, you spun on your heels and snapped, “what do you really want, jeno?”

jeno grinned. “to talk.”

“to talk?”

“yeah,” jeno said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “i mean, first, i couldn’t let you walk by yourself. just in case somebody got to you.” somebody other than me.

you droned, “oh, wow. i guess i should be so grateful a big, strong guy like lee jeno followed me to my car. should i say ‘thanks?’”

“it wouldn’t hurt.”

“go fuck yourself,” you retorted.

jeno threw his hands up in defense. “like i said, i just wanted to talk.”

you rolled your eyes. god, you couldn’t believe you were entertaining this guy’s bullshit when you could be on the way home already. even better, you could run him over with your car. “jeno, i don’t like you. we have nothing to discuss.”

ignoring your balking, jeno continued, “i couldn’t help but notice your resting bitch face while watching the game.”

your voice was dripping with the bitter taste of irony, “wow, a stadium full of girls and you noticed me? i could almost faint.”

jeno snickered. “you’re funny.”

something is definitely up, you couldn’t help but assume. this was the longest conversation you’d had with jeno in… ever.

jeno crept closer, asking, “did you like the game?”

“my resting bitch face doesn’t speak volumes?”

“oh, it certainly does,” jeno said with a chuckle. “but i wanted to hear it from your mouth.”

you leaned against your car, folding your arms. “if you want approval so badly, go find one of your screaming fangirls that are just dying to meet you. i’m sure you’d get tons of attention. maybe even a blowjob or two.”

jeno cocked a brow, but that sly fucking grin never vanished from his lips. pretty as they were. “jealous much?”

you looked like you wanted to gag and dry-heave all over the place. “oh, honey, please. i just think it’s… dramatic. bleeding my ears out because lee jeno sweated a ton and got his pants dirty - woo hoo! what will he do next?”

“sports are an art form. you wouldn’t get it…”

you cut him off with a wince, “oh, god. you sound exactly like the type of guy i do not want to piss off at a bar.”

jeno took that in stride, changing the topic, “do you have any plans for tonight?”

you spat, “why do you care?”

jeno shrugged his shoulders, almost like he was absolutely clueless. “just curious.”

“even if i do,” you started, exasperated. you had plans with your bed, if the sleepy haze in your eyes said nothing. “that’s none of your business because i hate you and you hate me. remember?”

“you hate me,” jeno corrected, stepping so close he was now directly in front of you. “i let that go in high school.”

you were quick to retort, “right, after you found out what a vagina was.”

jeno finally started to break, nearly closing the gap between your bodies. “you’re so mouthy, you know that?”

you swallowed, damping your throat. he towered over you a little. never in a million years did you want to show jeno any fear, though you weren’t certain of what was going on. “jeno, what are you doing?”

jeno ignored you. again. “holding onto resentment from when we were fucking kids just because you want to be a stubborn little bitch. do you even know why you hate me?”

you blinked. you were beyond confused.

“i heard you fucked mark. and jaemin. oh, and haechan,” jeno snarled, extending a hand down to your ass. “all on the football team.”

“that’s none of your goddamn business,” you hissed, trying to pry his hand away from you.

jeno snickered. that was bizarre and the most hilarious thing you’d said tonight. “babe, it’s the football team. it’s everybody’s goddamn business. word gets passed around quick through us. clearly, so do you.”

you recoiled, affronted. though you tried to wrestle from jeno’s arms, he was infinitely stronger than you, and that seemed to please him because he wasn’t finished.

“do you plan on sleeping with the entire team - is that it?” jeno pressed. “johnny’s gonna make it big one day. are you going to get him to get you pregnant? live off an nfl player’s child support checks?”

you shoved at his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “are you actually this mad that i don’t want to sleep with you?”

“get in the car,” jeno hissed.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “what?”

irritated, jeno opened your car door and forced you into the backseat none too gently. you whimpered in pain, having hit your head on the roof, and jeno clambered in the back with you, shutting the door behind himself. you didn’t even get the chance to sit back up before he unceremoniously threw your purse somewhere in the front.

now, you were officially beginning to panic. you never thought he would go this far. fear seeped into your bloodstream as your self-preservation instincts kicked in, and you swung your legs, successfully kicking jeno in the groin.

you tried to open the door on your end while he grimaced in pain, but you were too slow, jeno dragging you back towards him by your legs and holding tightly onto them. he went to unbutton them, grumbling, “god, i can’t fucking stand you.”

“jeno, stop. i said stop!” you exclaimed, eyes widening. “i’ll tell your parents!”

“don’t tell me you really think my parents will believe you over me,” jeno scoffed at how ridiculous that statement sounded, just before mocking, “i hate you and you hate me. remember?”

“then, i’ll tell mine,” you snapped.

“so like you to run and tattle to mommy and daddy,” he sighed, now reaching for your panties. “all that will do is start a family vendetta. now, is that really what you want, babe?”

you frowned. it was like he planned this.

jeno wholeheartedly intended to show you who was the boss, barking, “answer me, bitch.”

“fuck you.”

obviously, jeno didn’t like that, grabbing your keys and smacking you across the nose with them. you groaned, wincing your eyes closed.

“i said, answer me,” jeno growled.

you stood your ground. “and i said ‘fuck you.’”

he slapped your keys against your nose again. your hands flew to your face, a hiss slipping out of your mouth when you touched your nose. though it felt broken, you knew that it was most likely just bruised. you fought the oncoming threat of tears, never letting them reveal themself as anything more than a shimmer in your eyes.

“you might want to reconsider. or else you’ll probably have to ask daddy to buy you a new nose,” jeno warned. “now, like i said, is that what you want?”

you shook your head.

“with your mouth. i’m not afraid to bruise that lip, either.”

“no,” you cried out, fire in your tone.

jeno smirked. “there you go. was that so hard, babe?”

“yes,” you muttered.

jeno laughed, tickled. almost like something was funny. your panties were now thrown aside and you sucked in vicious breath when his finger landed on your pussy, trying to remain strong. you knew that he wanted to see you fall apart. that was just something he always wanted.

but this was something more than that. it was darker than pushing you to the dirt at a playground or bumping into you too harshly in a hallway. this was brutal tenfold.

“i would never tell them anything,” jeno said, referring to his team, you assumed. he pushed his fingers up your cunt, much to your dismay. “nobody deserves to know. you’re all for me. just for me.”

knowing that his teammates obviously kissed and told made it harder for you to resist the tears you desperately wanted to let fall, because you felt so violated in so many different ways, but you didn’t succumb to the sting. you could take it. you would have to.

“i’m not yours. i never, ever, will be yours,” you said with an alarming amount of vitriol.

jeno pinched the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. “yes, you are. i fucking own you right now. you’re going to do whatever i want. my fucking toy.”

before you could even get any spiteful words out of your mouth, jeno slipped a hand up your shirt and pinched his fingers around your nipples, making you holler a sharp cry. you didn’t understand why he was acting so mean all of the sudden, though you guessed he’d just gotten better at repressing his reproach for you and stifling the need to inflict torment on you.

never in your life had you ever felt so helpless before. jeno was trying to break your resolve and you couldn’t let him, but with every blow to your willpower, he was getting closer and closer to winning. for a second, it occurred to you that that was all this ever was, and all he ever cared about. being able to say that you lost and he won.

and he really had you convinced for a second that maybe he wasn’t so terrible of a guy anymore.

jeno tugged at his pants and you started to fret, trying to crawl away, but to no avail. you should have never came here. you should have stood your ground and went home like you wanted, because you didn’t want this.

“calm down. you’ve had dick in you before,” jeno chided, removing his underwear next.

this was the first time in your life you’d ever been truly scared of jeno. any other day, no matter the situation, you’d faced him bravely. but this was beyond your expertise. “jeno, please. please don’t do this. i’m begging you!”

jeno snorted in amusement. he almost couldn’t believe that you were begging him for mercy. you, of all people. he knew there was more vulnerability where that came from and he was hell-bent on breaking it out of you.

the tears were finally trickling down, hot and thick as they dampened your cheeks. “please,” you whimpered, hating how desperate you sounded. “if you let me go, i won’t tell anyone, i promise.”

“that’s cute,” jeno chirped. “not really tempting, but cute.”

you slumped in defeat. there was no getting to him. he was dead-set on sweet revenge for whatever perceived wrongdoings of yours that had wounded his poor, fragile ego.

all jeno could think about was how hard he was, watching your bottom lip tremble and your figure paralyze with fear. he’d seen you cry a few times in his lifetime, mainly because of him and when you were younger, but this was the first time he’d seen genuine fear glimmer in those eyes of yours. and he was addicted to it already. you always tried to convince the universe that you were tougher than you really were, and he’d always been determined to uncover the weak, fragile girl you truly were. to show you that he was infinitely stronger than you.

it happened in a blink. jeno pounced on you, lining his dick up at your cunt, whispering in your ear that he was going to fucking destroy you. you sobbed harder when he finally pushed inside, deep. the burn of the stretch was agonizing and you were inclined to scream, but you in no way wanted to give jeno that pleasure.

“fuck. you should’ve never been such a goddamn cunt,” jeno hissed, sinking his fingers into your hips, fueled by the noises of anguish that parted your lips. “now i’ve gotta put you in your place.”

“asshole,” you said through gritted teeth.

jeno grabbed your hair roughly, swallowing the little whine that escaped you, and stared into your glistening eyes. he could see the hatred smoldering in them, but most importantly of all, he could see how weak he thought you were and thought it was nothing short of pathetic. “baby, you don’t even know how pitiful you look. i’d shut my mouth if i were you.”

you didn’t want to know. you could feel your mascara running down your face, already realizing that your makeup was ruined, but that was the last thing on your mind when jeno was forcing himself into you.

your pussy was so warm and tight around his cock, he couldn’t help but want to shove himself deeper and deeper. the fact that he was a making a mess out of you only turned him on even more, he wanted to engrave the image into his memory indefinitely, and he considered taking pictures just to save it but that would’ve been too incriminating.

he thought many despicable things about you, but you weren’t worth his future. matter of fact, you weren’t worth anything to jeno. not a dime or a spare nickel and the way he fucked you said that loud and clear.

jeno ranted, “this is all your fault, you know. you’re just so damn delicate and breakable.”

“you will never break me,” you barked, though your voice was weighed down by your grief.

jeno burst into laughter and the sound was physically sickening. “hate to break it to you, babe, but i already have.”

you couldn’t bare to look into his eyes anymore, casting your gaze anywhere else.

“wasn’t that hard,” jeno continued nonchalantly. “should’ve done it sooner. i mean, you might have got away if you weren’t such a mouthy little slut that needs to have the last word all the time. hiding your weakness under all those - fuck - witty remarks, but i’ve always seen who you really are. fragile.”

you shook your head. his words were ripping you open and you hated it with every fiber of your being. you didn’t want to cave. “no, i’m not!”

“yes, you are,” he snapped. “you’re a fragile little whore that talks a big game but can’t take what she deserves. admit it.”

“no,” you exclaimed.

jeno wrapped a hand around your throat, firm and strong and everything in between, and your eyes went wide when he impaired your ability to exhale. your hands went to his, trying to pry him off of your throat, but you would never be stronger than him. never be strong enough to fight back. “admit it, if you want to breathe.”

the room started to reel. maybe it was all the hits you’d taken, all of his aggression that you’d accidentally elicited, that made it even more unbearable than the lack of oxygen causing the lightheadness, but there was a fleeting second where you couldn’t feel, where it felt unreal and dream-like, and you detached yourself from the moment so jarringly that the pain dissipated. and then that second was over, and reality seemed to hit you tenfold.

his hands felt tighter around your throat. his body felt weightier on top of yours. his breath was louder than it seemed before, and the flickering heat of loathing torched by his irises burned hard enough that you couldn’t even cry if you wanted to. it was just a silent agony. a cry of distress with parted lips, but no sound.

and when the lights felt like they were flickering, even though in reality there were almost none at all, just a distant street light stationed some feet away from your car, you accepted that you lacked the arsenal and power to win this battle, croaking with the last of your strength, “i… admit it.”

jeno’s grip on your throat slackened, though he didn’t let go. “you admit what?”

“i’m weak,” you confessed in a whisper, throat sore from his brutal touch. you wondered to yourself if he had crushed something or if the pain just felt more intensified in the moment. “i can’t hack it.”

“you never could,” jeno added, finally releasing your throat.

finally, you could breathe again, but your next breath was the most painful of your entire life.

when jeno spread your legs apart a little more, uncomfortably so, you whined, but you noticeably lacked the backbone to fight it. you just took what he had to spare, lying against the leather seat as the metal seat belt marked your skin and jeno’s body rocked you back against it from his movements. it was the least hurtful thing you were feeling.

mustering one last breath of fight, you whispered with all the venom you could summon, “i hate your guts.”

“i’m kind of loving yours right now,” jeno quipped, slapping your cunt as if to emphasize that statement.

every second started to bleed into each other, no more or less excruciating than the last. you gave up on fighting. no matter how hard you tried, it only resulted in jeno taking advantage of your weakness, smacking you across the face or dragging his nails across your skin. you knew your body was covered in marks, you could feel the ache, prickling everywhere.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jeno hissed, running his hands up your shirt.

that much was obvious. his movements, though they had never not been careless, grew more erratic and rhythmless. quicker, shallower, even, but harder.

you set your fingers at his biceps, begging, “jeno, please don’t cum inside me.”

jeno scoffed. “of course not. you don’t deserve that much of me.”

all that you could do was sigh. as if you wanted to be pregnant with his baby anyways. you physically recoiled at the thought.

jeno pulled out of your cunt, and you were relieved for a second, until he rotated you until your face was towards his cock and instructed, “open.”

parting your lips, you sucked his cock into your mouth, knowing you would regret it if you didn’t. you already felt broken enough. if you weren’t careful, he might’ve fucked around and killed you. hell, he almost did.

“you’re so much prettier when you’re being a good girl instead of running that useless mouth,” jeno commented.

grabbing a fistful of your hair, jeno controlled your movements, using your mouth until he came in your mouth, grunting, “swallow.”

you tried your best, you really did, but you didn’t think he would cum so much, and so hard. there was an unsparing smack of his hips against your face as he fucked your throat until, at last, he came with a ravenous growl. you couldn’t help what slipped out of your mouth and drizzled down your chin, onto the leather seat. your leather seat.

still, jeno didn’t let go, roughly lowering your head to the seat. “eat my fucking cum.”

there was no way in hell that you wanted to, your stomach churned at the mere thought of doing such a despicable thing although you had practically swallowed most of his cum already, but it felt physically degrading to lick his cum off the seat of your own fucking car. his hold didn’t slacken until every spot was gone, and you slumped backwards onto the chair, facing the roof.

there was a kind of emptiness scraping your chest that was like nothing you had ever felt before. it was despair, yes, but to such an extent that it felt like nothing. and then it was so much of nothing that it throbbed and ached right there in your heart, and mind. probably your soul too. your entire being felt frozen, rigid. so cold that it burned.

this is what it meant to be broken, you would’ve thought, if you could think. though since you could not, all you really did was lie there, a misty haze in your soulless eyes as your hands were slumped at your sides. had not your chest been heaving like raging waters, jeno would’ve thought you weren’t even alive.

and really, truly, you guessed that was what he wanted. he didn’t want you dead, not literally, maybe. but to make you feel so deprived of everything that gave you dignity that life itself was lifeless.

“i think i’ll take these,” jeno said, holding up your panties to the air like they were a flag of some kind. “you know, as my reward.” for breaking you.

you said nothing. after everything else he had just taken from you, ripped from your very hands like it was nothing, you couldn’t be bothered to care about something so replaceable. you wanted your pride back. you wanted your dignity back. but he stripped you bare of everything, all of your strength and will, all of the fire inside your body that kept you alive.

he would never know what that felt like. in the time that he spent making a point, you’d lost your sense of self and direction.

and jeno just slipped back on his clothes like nothing ever happened, sneaking away like a thief in the night, without a goodbye as he left you there to fend for yourself in the chaos that he’d created.

and he did it all with a satisfied smile on his face.

#lee jeno smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #nct hard hours #tw: noncon #revehae fics

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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

Text

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

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

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

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

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

wordcount: 12.0k

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

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

But that’s out there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jihoon, wait-”

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

“Jihoon!”

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?”

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

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Girl Code Rule #1

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

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

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

“Girl Code Rule #2

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

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4

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

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

“Girl Code Rule #5

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

“That’s-” you begin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

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

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

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

“Seul?”

“Yep.”

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

“You’re not.”

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

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?” _____________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t tell anyone.”

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.”

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.”

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

Holy hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not telling you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“We deserve that.” _____________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!”

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

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

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

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is going on?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

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

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

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

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

“Unlovable.”

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

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

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

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

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

Indeed, it is happening.

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

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

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

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you asked for me?”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jihoon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor.

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

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

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

“Why?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

There are flowers in his hands.

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

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

“I’m good.”

He nods.

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

“But- you and Wonwoo-?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, it was just-”

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

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... Are you still hard?”

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

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

“So,” Yeri trails off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Begging always works!”

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

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