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roosterforme · 2 days

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Covering the Classics Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Now that Anna knows what Bob's hands feel like when he's holding her close, she doesn't know how to stop herself from going back for more. But she's unwilling to even humor Bob when it comes to what he wants the most.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"I'm waiting for you to thank me."

Bob looked up to see Nat in front of him with a little smirk painted on her lips. He'd been spending the last twenty minutes trying to act normal, something he forgot how to do after Anna kissed him in the kitchen. Because it wasn't just a kiss, it was everything. It felt like she really wanted him.

"Thank you for what?" he asked cautiously.

Nat laughed heartily like he'd just told a very amusing joke. "For pushing you and Anna together. Bradley told me the situation, and that woman was jealous of me touching you. Her face was all pinched, and her lips were pressed into a tight line. Jealous. She wants you. And my god, she's hot. What the fuck do they do at San Diego State? Only interview you if you've got your PhD and a modeling contract?"

Bob knew he was blushing, and he was happy she wasn't calling him out on it. His friends were all talking about him and Anna behind his back at this point, trying to figure out what was going on. "We kind of just made out in the kitchen," he muttered, glancing across the yard at Anna who was talking to Jess and still holding the can of ginger ale he gave her.

"Yes!" Nat said with absolutely no subtlety, slapping Bob's shoulder. "Oh fuck, the two of you will have the cutest kids! Freckles and strawberry blonde hair!"

He had to close his eyes against the idea of it, willing the flush in his cheeks to subside. When he opened them again, Anna was looking right at him. Her gaze was a little unsure, and he was starting to get afraid she wouldn't let him drive her home later. But he wanted to walk her up to her door. He had been thinking about it since the very first time he drove her home.

"It's not like we're together or anything," he muttered.

"Yet," Nat told him, looking so certain. "Not yet."

It was getting late, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The temperatures would start cooling down once it was dark, and Anna was only wearing shorts. Bob's eyes easily found those freckles on her thighs once again. Her skin looked so damn soft. He wondered if he would feel goosebumps beneath his fingers if he traced that pretty pattern, gently connecting her freckles with an imaginary line. He had to swallow hard as she started heading his way.

Nat squeezed his wrist and muttered something about work, and then she vanished into the house. With Anna standing right in front of him, Bob wished he could just lean in and kiss her the way Jake always did with Jess, and the way Bradley always did with his wife. He wanted it. With Anna.

"I'm getting a little chilly," she told him. "I guess I overestimated how warm autumn was going to be in San Diego. It's still better than New Jersey though." She was talking to him like she hadn't been rubbing the front of those little shorts against the fly of his jeans barely an hour ago, and now he was sweating.

"You should wear jeans next time," he replied before realizing how stupid he sounded. "Not that you should be covering your legs or anything like that! You have very nice legs. Nice freckles? I just don't want you to be cold."

He cradled his forehead in his hand while Anna laughed softly. "I'll wear jeans next time. Do you think you could give me a ride home soon?"

"Sure," he promised immediately. "Absolutely."

"Great." Then she turned, and Bob heard her saying goodbye to Jessica. Why was he so awkward? Why was that exchange so weird? How was he supposed to make Anna want to kiss him again when he could barely string two normal sentences together?

--------------------------

Anna was trying to make a quick getaway, craving another few minutes alone with Bob. His truck was cozy, and she knew it would feel warm. His voice was sexy, and so was the way he moved. She wanted to kiss him again, even though she knew it was a terrible idea.

"Take some leftovers!"

"No, I'm fine," Anna told the hosts as Bradley tried to talk her into taking some of the extra burgers home. "But thank you." She was terrified that Jess may have said something about how sad Anna's lunches were; she had been doing her best to hide her current financial state from her friends, but she must have slipped up somehow.

"Well, will you come over for dinner one night? I love cooking for Sugar, but I always end up making way too much food."

Anna looked down at her feet. "Sure. I could do that. Jake invited me over there, too. I know he always cooks for Jess."

"Okay," Bradley said, his voice a little rough and his face annoyed when Anna looked up. "I'm a lot better at cooking than Jake is, first of all. Second of all, why don't you have dinner at his lame ass condo, and then let me know what he cooked. Then I'll cook a much better version of it for you and Sugar one night."

She was trying not to laugh; she knew they were competitive, but she didn't know it was quite this bad. "That sounds great, Bradley. Thanks for inviting me over today."

He just waved her off. "You're always welcome. You're one of us." He said it so casually before he started scraping the grill and cleaning it up, Anna just stared at the pattern of his tie dye shirt for a few seconds. He considered her part of this group now? This ridiculously cool friend group? If she thought about it for too long, she knew she would start crying.

"Thanks," she whispered, turning and running directly into Bob's solid chest.

When she looked up at him as her fingers grazed along his shirt, he asked, "You ready to head out?"

"Yeah." Anna felt the slight pressure of Bob's hand at her lower back, guiding her toward the door.

"After you," he said softly.

Anna had to walk inside the house and past Natasha, who she had clearly embarrassed herself in front of before. But the brunette just waved goodbye like she was completely unfazed by the events from earlier. Like it was totally normal for Bob and Anna to be together, heading out front to his truck as the setting sunset turned the sky orange.

Bob pulled the door open and helped her into his truck, and Anna thought maybe it was okay for this to be normal? To get a ride home from Bob after kissing him in her friend's kitchen? To have a painfully unrelenting crush on him that made her feel like perhaps love was a choice that you made for yourself?

She watched him walk around the font of the truck, his glasses catching the last rays of sunlight as the streetlights started to warm up. He was beautiful. He climbed into the truck gracefully and looked at her bashfully. She was the reason he wasn't more confident right now; she knew it, and she was annoyed with herself for it.

He cleared his throat quietly and said, "Before I forget, I have your copy of Papillon." Then he reached for the glovebox, his knuckles brushing her bare knee. "Sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand away immediately.

Anna's heart was in her throat. How was she supposed to tell him that she liked it when he touched her, even by accident. He reached for the glovebox again, this time making sure his movements kept him clear of her leg. "It's okay," she told him, breathing deep. "I didn't mind it."

The only answer she got was Bob carefully handing her worn out book back to her. There was another little note folded up inside which made her remember she never read the one that was in Wuthering Heights before she left it in her office at work. He started the engine. The drive back to her place was too long, and too short at the same time. She was surprised to find that he was heading in the right direction without a reminder about her address. As the sky darkened, Anna tried to listen to the music playing on the radio, but all she could really hear was the sound of her own heart pounding.

When Bob parked the truck in front of her building, she watched him squeeze the steering wheel with both hands while he stared out the windshield. "Anna...when you say you didn't mind it when I touched you...what does that mean? And what happened back at the cookout? Am I allowed to kiss you now? Or am I supposed to just figure out how to get over you?"

She fumbled with her seatbelt, heart thundering at the sound of his unsure voice. She wanted to ask him why he even liked her, because she had literally nothing to offer someone like Bob Floyd. But instead she said, "I meant I like it when you touch me. Even if it's by accident."

He turned to look at her, and when he saw she was crawling across the seat, his eyes went wide, and his hands slid from the steering wheel. "Anna." He inhaled a sharp breath when she planted one hand between his thighs, brushing his jeans with her fingers. She couldn't stand him thinking she didn't want him for another second. He was all she wanted. Somehow moving to San Diego got her some actual friends and a job she liked, and now a decent man with only green flags was into her, and she just couldn't make him think she felt otherwise. Even if they couldn't be together.

Bob's hands were planted on the seat at his sides, and he wasn't moving an inch as Anna straddled his legs. It was dark out, but she could see his gaze dip down to her cleavage before he met her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was deep with need. "Is it okay if I touch you now?"

"Please."

Anna's little cry of delight echoed through the cab of the truck as soon as Bob's hands settled on her bare thighs. His touch was light yet intentional, and it just left her wanting more. He was running his thumb along the frayed edge of her denim shorts, teasing her as he whispered, "I want to kiss you."

She didn't answer. Instead she reached for him, letting her fingers sink into his silky hair, leaning closer until her lips met his again. The kisses in the kitchen had been a little frantic, forcing her to get over the fact that Bob didn't want Natasha. He wanted Anna. But this was something different. Languid and slow. Needy yet decisive. She wanted to touch the rough stubble of his cheek, so she did. She wanted to feel his bottom lip tugged gently between hers, so she did. Then she parted her lips and tasted him.

The scrape of her nails along his jaw had his fingers sliding up inside the bottom of her shorts, and she wished she wasn't wearing them at all. She wanted to know the feel of his hands everywhere. "Anna," he murmured against her lips. She tugged on his hair and kissed him a little rougher, but she gasped and gave up control as soon as his big hands found their way over her shorts to her hips and yanked her snug against him. There was no more polite distance. No more breathing room. Just his hard body pressed to her soft one.

Bob's glasses were cool against her cheek, keeping her grounded as his fingers met the skin of her lower back while he tasted her tongue. His touch tickled her, and she rolled her hips forward, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. "Please," Anna whined, like it was the only word she even knew. Then her mouth was back on his. Bob's fingers traveled an inch higher, and she ground against him, but this time he broke the kiss.

When he tipped his head back, he looked bashful in the glow from the streetlights. She could feel him. He was getting hard for her, and it was delicious. Her brain supplied every suggestive line of poetry it had ever absorbed in her lifetime, and all she wanted was to make him get harder.

She was ready to start unzipping his jeans when he eased his hands away from her body and whispered, "Will you let me walk you to your door? I've been wanting to do that for weeks."

----------------------

It was slow going, trying to get to Anna's apartment door. They kept stopping to kiss, even going so far as to end up with her body pinned between his and the wall in the stairwell. Her soft laughter as he kissed the side of her neck echoed through the enclosed space, and then she said his name.

"Bob."

Actually, it was more like a whine, and it reverberated off of the walls beautifully. "Yes, Anna?" he whispered, letting her lace their fingers together. He wanted to do this all the time. He wanted to be her boyfriend.

She just made a strangled sound as he kissed as many of her freckles as he could get his lips on before pulling her away from the wall. Then they finally made it upstairs to her door. If she invited him inside, he wasn't sure what she would expect. As much as he was ready to skip all of the pleasantries, he knew he needed to do this just right.

"Oh," she whispered, seemingly to herself as she unlocked her door. But she didn't turn the knob as she looked back at him over her shoulder. Her pretty brown eyes flashed with concern, so he took a step away, but then she just looked sad.

"Everything okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Will I get to see you this week? I'd love to buy you a ginger ale at the Hard Deck. Or Chippy's."

She bit her lip before abandoning the door and wrapping her arms around his neck. She was all rough kisses on her tiptoes, and Bob was ready to turn the knob, head inside and deal with the consequences later. But she ran her tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away from him just as quickly. "I need to...I'll see you later, Bob."

In a flash, she squeezed herself in through the smallest gap imaginable, and then she gently closed her apartment door behind her. Bob stood there for a minute, his cock still half hard in his jeans as he stared at the spot where Anna had just been standing. She was giving him whiplash at this point, but maybe he sort of liked that kind of thing.

He quickly adjusted himself in his jeans before heading back downstairs and out into the cool night. He was going to have to ask Jake or Bradley how long he needed to wait before asking Anna out. They would know what to do. And he had Nat back now as well. He had enough resources that he would figure it out.

But the next day after work, they all seemed to make everything more confusing for him.

"So did you finally fuck her then?" Bradley asked casually as he put deodorant on in the locker room.

"Well, no," Bob muttered. "We just made out for a bit."

"Kids these days," Bradley muttered, shaking his head. "Well, did you at least thank Nat? For coming to your rescue?"

Bob sighed, knowing this man was going to be no help after all. "I already talked to Nat," Bob replied as they walked out of the locker room.

Of course Natasha was in the hallway and did a double take. "Did I just hear my name? I've been so popular since I got home yesterday." Her smile slipped into a look of excitement. "Did you fuck the redhead?"

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Her name is Anna. And no, because I'm actually trying to date her."

"Why not both?" Nat asked, leading the way out to the parking lot. "Give that girl what she so desperately wants."

Bob was scared Anna was going to pull away again. He hadn't heard from her at all since last night when she disappeared into her apartment. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be texting her or not today. It was like he was living in a choose your own adventure story, but somehow none of the options were correct.

He turned right toward his truck while Bradley and Nat both turned left, but then he realized that Jake had parked next to him and was already in his own truck talking on the phone. Bob tried to sneak past, but Jake put his window down and said, "Jess wants to know what's up with you and Anna."

"Is she on the phone?" Bob asked, tossing his bag into his own truck.

"Hi!" came Jessica's voice through Jake's bluetooth. "What did you do to Anna? She was practically singing when she showed up at lunch today."

Bob immediately scrambled toward Jake's truck and stuck his head in the window. "She was?"

"Yes. And she was having a hard time paying attention. You know how she gets when her head is in the clouds."

Jake met Bob's wide eyed gaze and smiled. "You should go to her office hours," the other man drawled. "That's like a green light for fucking on her desk."

"Hey!" Jessica complained through the phone while Bob grimaced. "Jake, keep your mouth shut about it. But yes, Bob, you should go to her office hours. She'd probably really like that. It shows you're thinking about her."

Well Bob was almost never not thinking about Anna, so maybe it wasn't a bad idea. "Take her some flowers," Jake added. "Seriously, man, she'll be handing you her panties within a minute."

"Hey!" came Jessica's voice again, and this time Bob ducked into his own truck, not wanting to hear any more of that conversation.

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Monday was a bit of a blur. The first thing Anna did when she got to her office was grab her copy of Wuthering Heights from her shelf. The note she forgot to read from Bob made her smile right away.

This book made me feel like it's okay to be completely caught up in another person to the point where you forget where you are or what you're doing. Also, I'm going to think of you every time I see a dog eared page for the rest of my life.

She whimpered softly. There had been a similar, slightly more intimate note tucked inside Papillon when she checked it last night after she squeezed herself into her depressingly tiny apartment in embarrassment. She would never be able to invite Bob inside for anything. Not for a cup of tea, and not for a sleepover.

After that, Anna spent the entire night on Sunday reading her favorite poems and touching herself. Sky Writing seemed to have fallen in love, based on his new post. That idea wasn't surprising at all. Anna was convinced he was the perfect man, so it was just a matter of time. But the thing that did surprise her was the way he wrote about a certain woman with red hair. Late into the night, she was laying in her tiny bed with her fingers inside the font of her underwear, picturing Bob as she read the words to herself.

It was almost too much. Her lips were still a little bit puffy on Monday from all the making out, and she felt sated if only by her own touch. She knew Bob's beautiful hands would be so much better, and she was still thinking about them when she went to find her friends at lunchtime.

Tuesday wasn't much better. The only damper was that she hadn't heard a single word from Bob. Nothing. She hadn't texted him either, because what was she supposed to say? Hi, I think I could fall in love with you, but I'm not allowed. Can we still make out? That would be the worst idea in the world.

"She's got her head in the clouds again."

Anna blinked a few times and realized she was sitting by the weird tree with the warm sunlight on her face. Her uneaten sandwich was in her hand, hovering halfway to her mouth, and she had been staring off into the distance. "Sorry," she muttered, finally taking a bite. Her lunch didn't even seem as sad today as she thought about Bob's hands on her thighs.

"Can you blame her?" Jessica asked. "She kissed Bob."

"Not one bit," the other woman said with a grin, as if Anna wasn't even there. "He's a damn catch. Sweetest man ever."

Anna rolled her eyes and said, "As if you aren't married to the human equivalent of a golden retriever."

"Oh, so she is paying attention," Jessica said with a laugh. "We thought you'd blasted off for planet Bob with no return ticket."

"Your astrophysics jokes are the worst," the other woman said, and Jessica pretended to pout.

"Listen. All I know is that he's a great kisser, and that his hands fit really nicely right here," Anna said pointing to her back and her hips. Both women squealed in delight. "But I can't take things any further with him."

"Why not?" Jessica demanded. "The two of you have been playing this game since you met at the bookstore. And also since you met again at the Hard Deck."

Anna thought about Kevin and all of her money that she'd never see again. She thought about her manuscripts she'd put on hold to work three jobs. She thought about how she'd willingly given up Princeton for him.

"I don't want to drag him down to where I am," she whispered, running her finger along the condensation on her can of ginger ale. "I can't be in a relationship." That's all she wanted to say about Bob and Kevin right now, still too afraid to tell her friends everything. So she cleared her throat and asked, "What's with the cooking rivalry between Bradley and Jake? It's like an episode of Chopped." That seemed to open a very controversial can of worms, but at least the focus shifted away from her personal life.

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Bob didn't even know what kind of flowers were the right ones to get, and once again, everyone else gave him useless information.

"I rarely get flowers for Sugar. I usually just grab some good beers on my way to pick her up from school, and that's enough to seal the deal. Then I get to drink the beer I like while my hot wife goes dow-"

"We get the picture, Bradshaw," Jake said loudly. "Bob, just get some cheap flowers and save the money to make her dinner one night."

"Do not get her cheap flowers!" Natasha chimed in. "If the two of you weren't attractive looking," she said, pointing to Bradley and Jake, "Sugar and Jessica would have bailed before they bothered to uncover actual brain cells underneath the pretty hair." Both men looked startled before eventually nodding in agreement. "You need to get good flowers and plan to invite her for dinner. Not one or the other," Nat finished, pounding her fist into her other palm. "No wonder Bob never gets laid when I'm not around to straighten everything out."

"Can we not talk about that?" he mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "And it's not like I just want to...get laid. By just anybody."

"Yeah, yeah," Natasha said, tapping away on her phone. "You're a romantic. Go get her flowers like these ones."

Bob examined her screen when she held it up for him. He memorized the red and orange blooms the best he could, and soon they started to remind him of Anna's hair. "Got it," he told her, turning toward his truck before anyone else could tell him something that may or may not end up being useful. He'd get the flowers and then invite her over. He wasn't as good at cooking as Jake or Bradley, but he'd try anyway. He was mostly out of practice since he didn't have anyone to cook for, really, but they both offered to send him their favorite recipes.

The florist was nice and listened to him ramble about orange and red flowers for a minute before putting together something that was even prettier than he could have imagined. The sixty dollar price tag shocked him, but it didn't stop him from also grabbing a book from the front window of the shop next door. It was a new one he'd been wanting to read himself, not quite one of the classics that Anna seemed to favor, but he figured she wouldn't have read it yet. He'd let her borrow it and dog ear all the pages up, and then he'd read it and think about her the whole time.

But when he got to the San Diego State University campus, he sat in his truck and stared at the clock on his dashboard. It was 6:32. She had office hours until 7:00, so he really needed to head in there. Doubt was creeping in now, because they left things off at a weird place. He had no idea what Anna really wanted from him, if anything. If she told him no or hesitated today, he was going to have to start sorting out his feelings for her and dismantling them bit by bit.

It was 6:47 by the time he finally made his way through the academic building on his way to Anna's office. Several people turned and looked at him in his khaki uniform with the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, and this would have been a lot less stressful if Anna was actually his girlfriend and not a woman he thought might never be that. When he reached the hallway that smelled like freshly baked bread, he found her small office right away where it was tucked back from the main walkway. The door was ajar, and he could hear her voice, so he stood there in the hallway a little awkwardly, trying to fight the urge to run back to his truck.

The door opened another inch, and Bob could see Anna's fingers and her burgundy painted nails peeking out as her voice got louder. "Here's a copy of the extra study guide. Don't forget there's a quiz on Monday. If you can ace that, then I think you'll be in better shape for the final. And try not to be too hard on yourself, Hemingway can be a bit of a challenge for anyone."

"Thanks, Dr. Webber."

The door opened all the way, and a young man filed out with a frown on his face, and then Anna was just standing there right in front of Bob. Her hair was in a loose braid, her lips had some sort of purple-ish gloss on them, and she was wearing some snug jeans and an SDSU sweatshirt. "Bob," she breathed, and it sounded like music. Her gaze raked over his uniform and the vibrant flowers before returning to his face, brown eyes more vulnerable than he ever thought they should be.

"Hi, Anna." He couldn't think of anything better to say as she backed up a step into her small office and nodded her head once for him to join her. After two of his long strides, Bob was practically bumping into her desk. Then she closed the door and leaned against it, hands tucked behind her back.

She cleared her throat, but her voice was still soft as she said, "You look nice in your uniform."

"Thanks," he replied automatically. She could have said anything, and he would have thanked her.

"Those are beautiful. Are they for me?" she whispered, eyes falling to the flowers again.

"Of course they are."

Bob watched her eyelashes brush her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. "You didn't have to do that. Flowers are so expensive."

"I got you a book, too," he said, sliding it out from behind the bouquet. Her eyes snapped open so she could read the title, and he said, "It's a new release, so I was hoping you didn't preorder it or anything."

Anna's cheeks were growing pinker by the second, making her freckles look more prominent. He was about to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner one night when she launched herself across the three feet of empty space, colliding softly with his body. Bob dropped the flowers and the book onto her desk just as she kissed him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

She kissed him like they did this all the time, and his hands went right to her waist where they fit perfectly. "Thank you," she murmured against his lips. "Nobody ever got me books before you."

The words before you echoed in his brain. He didn't want there to be an after. He wanted this to be the real deal where neither of them had to be in a relationship where they weren't constantly trading books back and forth with someone.

Anna kissed him until his glasses were crooked, and she raked her fingers through his hair until he was sure it was a mess. And somehow she ended up pushing him back until he was sitting on the edge of her desk with his long legs splayed apart. He knew he was in trouble; he could feel himself slipping already. She let her hands trail down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down the front of his shirt. She adjusted all of his pins and touched his name tag along the way as her lips barely brushed his. Her fingers moved so slowly, he thought maybe he could get himself under control, but it was no use. He was hard in his pants, and her exploratory hands weren't stopping.

"Anna."

All that did was make her kiss him harder again.

"Please."

All that did was have her pressing the font of her jeans to his khakis with a little gasp. Maybe the guys had been right about this kind of thing after all. Maybe visiting her during office hours was all it was going to take to get to the next level. Her fingers made it all the way down to his thighs, scraping along just inches from his erection, and Bob was afraid he was going to embarrass himself. He thought about icebergs and refrigerators and the Arctic Circle, but nothing alleviated the aching heat under his skin as Anna licked his lip and almost nudged the tip of his cock.

But then she said the most devastating sentence he could think of. "Bob, I really like you. But we're just friends, okay?" Then she kissed him again like she hadn't spoken something so harsh, and he thought maybe he imagined it. "Just really good friends who make out with each other."

"Fuck," he grunted, trying to get control even as his hands kneaded the bare skin of her lower back. "Anna." He swallowed hard and pulled his mouth away from hers, examining her wide eyes. Her teeth sank into her pouty bottom lip when he said, "I was going to invite you over for dinner later this week."

"As friends?" she whispered, her hands still planted on his thighs.

Bob nodded like an idiot, because once again, he was going to agree to anything she said right then. "Sure."

She kissed him softly and said, "Okay."

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But is it okay? Is it really? Next up, let's see how this dinner goes. We might need Nat to fully step in and take care of business again. Also, I love Bradley and Jake in this chapter so so so much! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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onlyhuis · 3 days

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drenched

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut word count — 2.4k synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)

if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.

practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.

most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.

it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.

jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.

of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.

tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.

the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.

you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.

with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.

he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.

you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.

the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.

god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.

okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?

but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.

or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.

if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you.

so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.

he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.

he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.

even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.

you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy.

the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.

you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.

you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.

the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger.

this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.

it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.

he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.

he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book.

your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.

he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.

with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.

he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.

it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.

he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.

he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

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withleeknow · 2 days

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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: jisung x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mentions of periods bc duhhh erhm note: ok so i'm REALLY not sure what this is lmao but i switched up entirely compared to the first installation (with minho) and i think this is the format i'll be sticking with for the rest of the members. i'm still just experimenting and trying to figure how i want to approach doing drabbles/drabble series like this so pls bear with me a little for now lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

jisung, who can't be trusted with even the simplest of tasks. you should've known better. (and honestly? you did know better, which probably makes the whole thing so much worse.)

jisung, whom you ask to run to the store just because you were too lazy to brave the evening chill yourself and get the shit you need.

jisung, who texts you what size pussy u wear? while he stands in the middle of the aisle, feeling like he's illiterate as he's surrounded by products of different colors and shapes and sizes and wings.

jisung, whose eyes catch a specific pink packaging with pretty flowers that makes him pull out his phone and snap you a picture. this one looks better. yours is boring, he'd text you, to which you'd replied with a dozen question marks before calling him an idiot and telling him to leave the fancy pads and hurry home with the ones you usually use.

jisung, who returns about thirty minutes later holding two large bags in his hands, which definitely contain a lot more than what you had sent him out for - just a pack of overnight pads and some sweets.

jisung, who kisses you in greeting as your eyes narrow suspiciously, then he'd proudly show off the goodies that you didn't need - an assortment of sour candies and chocolates, chips, ice cream bars, your favorite cookies, and lastly, a random purple pouch.

jisung, whose love language looks a lot like making you get diabetes whenever your time of the month rolls around.

jisung, who beams like a kid in a candy store when you ask him about the pouch with a brow raised. "look!" he'd beam, holding the little thing up like it's the most magical invention he's ever come across in his entire life. "it holds your pads! and it has unicorns on it!"

jisung, who doesn't deflate at all when you tell him that you already have one, but instead, he'd tell you to ditch the one you have because it's too "boring" (re: it doesn't have unicorns.)

jisung, who volunteers to carry the pouch for you the next time you go out together, musing to himself about whether or not he should add a little strap so he could wear it like a crossbody bag, not even batting an eye when you stare at him and gape in disbelief.

jisung, who really uses your shark week as an excuse to buy dumb shit for himself and stuff you full of treats.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #han x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung x you #stray kids #han jisung

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stayconnecteed · 2 days

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🪐˓⠀˚⠀foggy glass⠀@⠀hwang hyunjin.

it wasn't something you were in the habit of doing, but it wasn't usually something you could avoid. after all, it was practically impossible to resist your boyfriend when he looked that way. it hadn't even been your fault, you had only done what he asked you to do⠀★⠀1k words

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀; general m.list⠀☆⠀join taglist .ᐟ

content: smut,, sub!hyunjin, messy blowjob, mentions of biting / neck kisses. plot,, hyunjin tries to tease you, but it ends with him shuddering under your touch in his car. credits,, mdni banner by @cafekitsune. warnings,, if any under 18 acc interacts with this fic i'll block them. note,, no proofread, i don't even know- i wrote this in a haze ajsdhjasd

It wasn't something you were in the habit of doing, but it wasn't usually something you could avoid. After all, it was practically impossible to resist your boyfriend when he looked that way, clutching the cushioned surface of his seat with one of his hands, the other tangled in your hair, visibly overwhelmed, his pillowy lips spilling soft whimpers and his eyes fluttering, longing to memorise you but unable to keep them open for too long.

It hadn't even been your fault. He had left you a breathy audio in your chat while you were still at work, full of sighs and hurried whispers in which you could only hear his sweet voice calling for you, and then a brief message inviting you to a new restaurant that had recently opened two blocks south of his dorm. He had murmured something about dressing prettily ーyou didn't know if it was a request for you or a warning about himー, and then texted at what time he'd come to pick you up.

You had only done what he asked you to do. The fact that you had waited until you were sitting in the passenger seat to apply the gloss was a completely casual act, and had nothing to do with how much you knew Hyunjin liked the look on your face when you stared at yourself in the mirror, the pad of lipstick leaving a glossy surface on your lips that made him lick his own, almost hungrily.

He had confessed it to you a few months ago, in the middle of a hot make-out session on the sofa in the rehearsal room, when you had seized the opportunity to touch your boyfriend in the way he loved the most, no one left in the building. And you could see the reflection of his blurry gaze now, in the mirror you always carried with you, your eyes fixed in the vicious way he reacted to your motions, his eyes locked on your mouth. It was addictive, and you knew what turned him on the most was the way you looked down with a sharp gaze, the way you did when you rode him.

It was also addictive the way he responded to everything you did to him without needing to say a word. You knew he wouldn't protest if you leaned into him, but you were surprised by the hungry way his lips crashed into yours as soon as he had you close enough, all tongue and teeth, as if he intended to devour you whole. You let out an airy laugh, taking his face in your hands and ignoring the way your gloss was sticking to him, savoring its strawberry taste as soon as the kiss became so chaotic that you could only think mine, mine, mine…

You felt him give you two quick taps against your hip, hinting that he wanted you in his lap, but you ignored him, peeling your lips from his with a quick bite that left him whining for more, and pressing them against his neck, sucking above his beautiful mole, sliding your tongue over his skin and your hand down his abs until it rested over the bulge in his pants. You smiled, chuckling against his mouth, palming his erection, enjoying the way he stirred under your hands, overtaken by your touch and so adorably desperate for some friction, his throat producing the most delicious sounds.

Hyunjin tried to pull you back to him, wetting his lips as if he could feel yours on his again, or perhaps with the ghost of your last kiss still in his mouth. You tangled your hand in his hair, letting him keen towards the warmth of your palm, your breath on his skin, but tugging slightly at his locks before he could touch you. You swallowed the mewl that got stuck in his throat, and also the way his hips stuttered beneath you, and you could almost see the way his eyes slammed shut as you began to undo the button of his pants, sliding the zipper down and making him sit up a little so you could bend over his cock, pulling it out of his boxers and sucking the tip between your lips.

His shaky moan interrupted a breathless “fuck”, the sudden warm wetness around him as your gave him tentative little bobs making his head go dizzy. You tighten the hand you have around the base of his shaft, his low groan making you shiver, and you pull away for a while, your gaze falling over him. He looks completely wrecked already, his hair dishevelled by his own hand, a bead of drool about to spill from the corner of his lips.

You smile, still making eye contact with him, his cheeks stained in carmine, and kitten lick the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, humming. Hyunjin’s hips bucked helplessly, slurring a lazy “please, please, please” with broken voice, pouty under your touch. You slowly graze his dick with your teeth, the hiss he lets out contradicting the salty taste of pre-cum you taste on your tongue.

“Ah, ah, ahー baby, your mouthー” he slurred, his thigh tense and twitching under your hand, arousal pooling in the pit of his stomach. “Soー nghー so good…”

You pull back a second time, his whimper curving your lips, and you ask, voice hoarse “Mm-hm, feels good, baby boy?”

“Ohー Oh, God, so good” choking back a loud whine, dropping his head against the car window, his cheek sticking to the wet glass, his breathing drawing wisps of smoke against the surface, the condensation blurring the pornographic view of your boyfriend on the empty street where he had parked the car. You sank back down and suck him further into your mouth, his babblings becoming nonsense as soon as they left his lips, and you felt his cock throb in your mouth as you gently grasped his balls, feeling when he came down your throat, spilling moans into the car. You never make it to the restaurant.

#﹙ ★ ﹚⠀mars⠀—⠀writes.#stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin smut #sub!hyunjin

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feelbokkie · 1 day

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i'll be here for you

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: sick fic, angst

pov: 2nd person

description: Seungmin can tell instantly from your voice that something is wrong, so he drops everything to take care of you.

pairing: bf!seungmin x gn!reader

warnings: hospitals, swearing, mentioning of food and eating, open ending, talking about weight, reference to death

word count: 3,054

a/n: allow me to be self indulgent and dramatic and over exaggerate for a moment.

Mong, mong. Mong, mong.

You sluggishly pull your phone out of your pocket, sitting as you do so. You let out a long, shaky sigh before plastering on a smile and answering the phone. You’re not sure why. It’s not like he can see your face through the phone. But maybe smiling will trick the rest of your body into thinking everything is okay.

“My Seungminnie!” You cheer into the phone, your face winces in pain from the sudden movement.

“Hi Y/n,” You can picture the small smile that’s slowly creeping onto his face vividly. “Did you just get home?”

“No,” you lean your back against your headrest. “I got home earlier than I thought I would. I read the end time on my schedule wrong.”

You can hear the chaos in the background. Changbin’s voice booms over everyone as he yells about something to do with Minho and Hyunjin. You can make out Felix’s faint laughter too. “You should’ve called me.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt practice. If I called you, you would have worried. How’s dance practice?”

“Hmm, Minho hyung has glared at Chan hyung twice, put Hyunjin in a headlock, and threatened all of us with various cooking styles about six times. He’s going to be sending me to you as soup.”

“Soupmin doesn’t sound too bad. Tell him to send side dishes,”

“Speaking of which, did you have a good lunch today?”

“I did,” You lie. “What about you? Did Minho let you eat or is he punishing you guys for not picking up the choreography?”

“We nailed 2 songs so he treated us. I had kimchi-jjigae!”

“You’re going to turn into kimchi-jjigae at this rate. You had it almost every day this week.”

“You just said you’d like Soupmin! ...Ugh, hyung, get off,” you hear a loud slap and some more laughter through the phone. The background laughter and chatter quickly becomes distant. “Sorry, Chan hyung lives in my bubble. What did you have for lunch?”

Click!

You assume that Seungmin had enough of whatever is going on in the practice room and left to talk to you somewhere peaceful. “Just some leftovers... I had some rice from dinner a couple of days ago so I make kimchi fried rice with some chicken.”

Seungmin is quiet on the other end for a second, “What did you really have?”

“I just told you,” You sit up, shifting your phone to your other hand and pressing it against your ear again.

“You’re hiding something. A couple of days ago you said you had pasta. What did you have for lunch today?”

“Kimchi—“ You double down.

Seungmin lets out a loud sigh, “This is a silly thing to lie about. You know that, right?”

“I’m not—“ You pause as the pain in your stomach reminds you that it's still there. “Fine, I just had some soda for lunch.”

“That’s all?”

“I told you, I wasn’t working as long as I thought—“

“You’re not eating properly and I can tell by your voice that you aren’t sleeping properly... Are you sick?”

“Probably,” You give up. When Seungmin has his mind set on something, it's difficult to argue with him.

“What do you mean ‘probably?’”

You bite your lower lip and run your free hand through your hair. “It’s nothing,”

“What’s going on?” It's subtle, the way his voice wavers with worry. If you weren't tuned into most of his habits, you would have missed it.

“Seungmin—“ You try to say calmly, wincing in pain as you lean back down against your headrest.

“Don’t try to lie or play it off. Something is wrong,” His voice raises an octave. You're not sure you can remember the last time he even slightly raised his voice at you. Even in a joking manner.

“…Fine." You squeeze your eyes shut, your current position only worsening your pain. "I just haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“What do you mean?”

You pause, contemplating how much you actually want to tell him right now. “My stomach gets upset. It’s fine though, probably just a bug.”

“And it’s causing you to not eat or sleep?”

“It only hurts after I eat. Well, it hurts in general now but if I eat it hurts a lot. Except for pho for some reason. But I can’t eat that all day every day,” You try to sound light and calm so that he doesn't worry more than he already is.

“You said 'now.' How long has it been hurting?”

“A while,” You mumble, playing with the hem of your shirt.

There's more movement in the background. You hear a faint scoff before you hear Seungmin huff as he presses the phone to his ear again.

“Have you gone to your doctor?”

“I called. They can’t see me until next month. But they said they’ll call me if a closer appointment comes.”

“Urgent care?” He suggests.

“They’ll just have me sit in the waiting room for hours and then spend 5 minutes with me before prescribing me antibiotics. Which is good and all but I know that's going to do fuck all if I can't even eat with the pills.”

“If it’s that bad, they’ll prescribe you something else.”

“Unlikely,”

You can practically hear the gears turning in Seungmin's head on the other end while he tries to come up with another solution for you. You're almost certain he's come up with all the same solutions that you have, none with promising enough results.

“What about the emergency room?" He tries again.

“For a stomach bug?” You chuckle, holding your stomach to attempt to control the apparent throbbing your stomach.

“A stomach bug wouldn't last that long. And you're not eating or sleeping. I don't know what else to do." His voice cracks. He's not trying to mask the panic in his voice for your sake anymore. He sounds as scared as you feel inside.

You squeeze your eyes shut again and rub your free hand over it. "Let's say I agree with you taking me to the emergency room. We'll still be there for hours--"

"I'm a pro idol. Plus my mom is a doctor,"

You've never known Seungmin to abuse his privilege as an idol, even at times when he should have. Especially when he should have. The fact that he's even insinuating that he'll use that part of his life if it'll help you is both heartwarming and intimidating.

"Don't involve your mom in this--Look, it's fine. I'm fine."

"It's not--" You hear Seungmin mumble a string of swear words that you're not sure you've heard him utter before.

"Seungmin? Hello?"

The background noise starts up again. This time, you hear Jisung scream singing loudly in the background as Hyunjin laughs. You hear some rustling in the background and finally a zipper. You pick up Chan's concerned voice, low and deep as chaos ensues in the background. You hear Seungmin tell him that he has to go, 'a family emergency' he explains. And then you hear Minho's soft voice as the noise in the background dies down. And then more rustling and zippers before the faint yet familiar jingling of keys.

"Seungmin!" You call out again, hoping he can hear you now that the room is quieter.

You hear a faint, 'one second' from Seungmin before he clears his throat, "I'll be there in about 20 minutes. Get your stuff ready."

Click

He hangs up before you can even try to argue with him that he doesn't need to leave practice to check on you. You let out a long shakey breath as you toss your phone on the bed and let yourself slump over from frustration.

***

"I can't believe you called your mom," You mutter under your breath.

Your arms rest firmly across your chest as you sit up on the examination bed in the emergency room. Seungmin sits at the foot of the bed, watching your every move. Like you would try to bolt if his eyes left you for even a second. You've thought about it.

"If you saw how pale you looked, you would have done the same thing. What did you want me to do?"

He looks so unlike himself. This is the first time you've seen him so disheveled, even after a dance practice. His usually neat hair points in all different directions from him running his hands through it. His windbreaker is zipped all the way up to hide his wrinkly, sweaty t-shirt. His face is darker than it normally is, showcasing whatever is running through his mind.

"Not call your mom!" You whisper. The emergency room beds don't offer you much privacy, only a curtain separating you from other beds. There's been a man screaming in pain in one of the makeshift rooms since you walked in. "I told you specifically not to,"

The sterile stench and bright lights from the room are starting to make your head spin. You feel bad taking up a bed when you know some people need to be examined more than you.

"I'm sorry but if you saw me in the state you're in, trust me, you would be calling anyone who could help. You lost a lot of weight too. I don't think I can even pinch your cheeks without it hurting you."

"You're overreacting," You scoff, rolling your eyes.

"You look like a sickly Victorian child,"

"Seung--"

Swoosh

Seungmin quietly gets up from his spot on the bed and stands next to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. Your doctor from earlier walks back in, nurse behind him this time. Her forced smile does nothing to distract from the dark bags under her eyes. You can tell how exhausted she is just by looking at her. She looks how your brain feels.

"I just finished talking with my attending. We both agree that you may have an ulcer. However, we cannot be sure without further testing. You have a few options but we recommend..."

You started to zone out, relieved that their first suspicion is an ulcer and not something more serious. An ulcer is treatable and the fatality rate is relatively low, based on what you read when you first started feeling sick.

"...admit you."

"Excuse me?" You tilt your head to the side, confused about what you just heard. You feel Seungmin's grip on your shoulder tightens, nails practically digging into your shoulder.

"Like I said, we do have a few other concerns so we believe it's best to admit you while we run a few more tests to be certain." The doctor repeats.

"But you just said that it's most likely an ulcer." You uncross your arms, your hand instinctively reacting for Seungmin. He grabs your hand with his free hand, refusing to let go of your shoulder.

"Yes, but some of the symptoms you're experiencing also align with other ailments so we would like to admit you for a couple of days while we do thorough tests," she explains, flipping through the papers on her clipboard.

You turn to Seungmin, whose face is clamped shut and eyes are fixed on the doctor. He's been doing well, keeping his composure for your sake, but now he looks as pale as you probably do. You try to focus your breathing so that maybe, just maybe, your heart will stop threatening to pound out of your chest. If it does, however, you're in the perfect place.

Seungmin's hand slides down from your shoulder to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he continues to talk to the doctor. You can't hear what he and the doctor are talking about, your ears are acutely aware of the swooshing of the blood from your heart.

You wanted it to be nothing. It's one of the main reasons why you put it off so long, playing it off as common stomach issues so you wouldn't have to go to the doctors and have them find something wrong with you. But it's inevitable now. There is something.

"It'll be okay," Seungmin whispers. Normally, you can read him like a book, but right now, you can't tell if he's reassuring you or himself.

~~~

You stare at the words on your phone, absorbing none of them as music plays loudly from Seungmin's headphones. You can't even register what song is playing right now, your mind too full with thousands of thoughts plaguing every quiet second you have.

Seungmin left you his headphones and phone charger before he left to get you some things from home. He stayed a while, being a quiet yet comforting presence while you got admitted. He sat, holding your hand as a nurse drew your blood, humming softly to distract you for a little bit.

He didn't want to leave. Not at first, but the two of you quickly realized that you couldn't ask anyone to get what you needed from your apartment. Seungmin has the only remaining key and you argued that it would be too much to ask one of the boys to come to the hospital to pick it up, get what you need from your room, and then come back to the hospital. So Seungmin went himself.

You were put into a private room, which you know is probably Seungmin's doing, but right now, you would prefer to be in a shared room. Just for the comfort of knowing that you're not the only person in the room.

Hot tears roll down your face, as your mind plays all the worse possible scenarios like a movie. You can't skip it, each scene is worse than the first, stressing you out more. You rest your head on the TV tray, trying to get your body to stop shaking and the images from popping into your head.

"Y/n?" You feel the cool air rushing to your ears and Seungmin's panicked voice, "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

He sets down the bags in the chair next to your bed and tries to get you to lift your head so he can see your face.

"N-no. I mean, yeah it hurts, but that's not why I'm crying." You whimper, lifting your head and looking at Seungmin through tears.

You can't see it, how red and swollen Seungmin's eyes are. Even if you did, you know he'd tell you a little white lie about allergies. You hate how this is affecting him. It's one of the reasons why you didn't tell him in the first place. Because you knew he wouldn't be able to do anything to help, no matter how much he wanted to. You don't even want to think how badly he'll suffer if it's something serious.

"It's okay to be scared," Seungmin whispers. The remainder of the sentence lingers in the air between the two of you. Unspoken but understood.

It's okay to be scared. I am too.

"What if it's something serious? And I waited too long and,"

Another unfinished sentence that doesn't need to be completed for the two of you to understand, this one heavier than the last. Its weight quickly soaking up all the oxygen and light in the room, making it hard to breathe. Or maybe it's whatever has been slowly killing you from the inside finally putting you out of your misery.

"Maybe it's a parasite," Seungmin suggests, his normally steady voice breaking. You finally look up to face your boyfriend. You're bet with the top of his head as he's turned away from you, looking at the ceiling. His hair is neater than it was before, still slightly wet. He's now wearing a light grey hoodie with matching sweatpants.

"That's disgusting," You sniffle, a smile smile appearing on your face.

Seungmin, still not looking at you, lets out a loud and long sigh. "But you're smiling, right?"

"Because you're an idiot,"

"A smile is a smile. I'll take it."

Seungmin tilts his head down and rubs his sleeve-covered hands over his face before turning his attention to you. His eyes are glassy and red. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach at the sight of him.

"It'll be okay," You whisper, taking Seungmin's hand in yours. It's more for your comfort than his.

"Whatever it is, I'll be here. Okay?" Seungmin says loudly, squeezing your hand tightly. "So lay your burdens on me,"

"I can't ask you to do that. You're getting ready for a comeback--"

"You think I would be able to focus on that if you're...if something is wrong with you?"

"I've seen you seen you separate Kim Seungmin the idol from Kim Seungmin my boyfriend."

"Yeah, when we're having a fight or something. But not for things like this. I already talked to Chan hyung. I didn't tell him everything, but he understands that you need me right now."

"Seungmin..." Your voice falters, any argument you could think of dies in your throat.

But he's right, you do need him. You've been shouldering the burden of your pain alone for too long, you're not sure how much longer you can last. He was gone for one hour and you completely fell apart. And that was just at the thought that it might be something serious.

"I have to call my parents," You breathe, calming down a little bit.

"I can help you with that," Seungmin replies softly.

"And I need to let my boss know I can't come in."

"I'll help with that too,"

"...But right now, I kinda just want to lay down with you,"

"I can do that too," Seungmin gently climbs into the hospital bed next to you, carefully watching the IV in your hand.

Once he's settled, he pulls your head down onto his chest. You freeze for a moment. It's not usual for Seungmin to initiate physical contact like this. Especially when a nurse can walk in at any moment. But the slight tremble of his body and the pounding in his chest let you know that he probably needs this more than you, so you relax into his touch.

"I love you, Y/n," He mumbles out, just like he did the first time he said it.

"I love you too, Seungmin," You breathe into his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

"I'm here," He says loudly this time. "It'll be okay,"

"I know,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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natsukishinomiyaswife · 3 days

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𝓢𝓪𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓬𝓵𝓪𝔀: 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓕𝓸𝓸𝓭

This is a series featuring the Twisted Wonderland cast in different scenarios where they show the Reader their love through food! Starting with Savanaclaw ♡ Enjoy! ♡

𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓪 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓻

☆ When you're sick ☆

⋆ You were fast asleep, having spent the past few days sick. You still felt horrible, spending most of your time coughing or sleeping. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt something shake you, a voice slowly sounding clearer as you begin to stir.

"Wake up. If I have to be awake then so do you."

Your eyes open slowly as you wake up, feeling groggy as Leona stops shaking you. He's sitting next to where you lay in bed, holding a bowl in one hand while the other rests on your shoulder. A smirk comes to his face as you look up at him, using his free hand to move some hair out of your face. He helps you sit up before handing you the bowl, cradling it to make sure you didn't drop it. Since you've been sick you haven't been able to eat much, either unable to keep it down or getting nauseous at the idea of food.

⋆ Your stomach growls as you look down at the soup he brought you, one of your favorites. As you sit there staring at it he nudges your shoulder, holding out a spoon for you to use.

"Eat. Even if it's just a bite."

You eat what you can, Leona taking the bowl from you once you were done. He comes back with a water bottle, holding it up to your mouth. After he made sure you had something to drink, he moved to lay next to you in bed, pulling you into his arms. You feel him bite your neck in affection before licking it, your eyes closed as you became drowsy.

"Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." ♡

𝓡𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓮 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓱𝓲

☆ Sharing ☆

⋆ You were at the park, sitting in the grass next to Ruggie. A box of donuts sat in front of you, more closer to him than yourself. A nearby bakery was having a sale that day, you and Ruggie deciding to split the cost and get a box of donuts to share. Since the weather was nice, you chose to enjoy them at the park, finding a secluded place to sit.

Each donut he took out of the box he broke in half, giving you one half while enjoying the other. You were surprised by this, expecting to just eat the ones you bought while leaving the rest for him.

⋆ He noticed your surprise, laughing as he broke another one in half. As he handed you your piece you asked him why he was splitting them this way, his answer making your face heat up.

"Well...it tastes better when I share it with you. Any food, really. That doesn't mean you should expect this all the time! I still gotta eat, ya know?"

He laughs, a grin coming to his face before he pauses, staring at your mouth. There were some crumbs on your lips, a little bit of frosting too. Before you realize it, he's already leaning in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Wouldn't want any to go to waste, shyeheehee!" ♡

𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓸𝔀𝓵

☆ Unexpected surprise ☆

⋆ You felt exhausted, both mentally and physically, looking towards the clock. Your day had been horrible, with nothing seeming to go right. Your work was understaffed, with customers acting rude and angrier than usual. You just wanted to go home and crawl into bed, glaring at the clock as if it would make time go faster.

As you were ringing someone up you noticed a familiar face enter, greeting him with a smile as he made his way to the counter. He waited until you were free before he approached you, handing you a bag. You looked at him confused for a moment, Jack simply saying he got you something. You opened the bag to find your favorite dessert, purchased from a bakery you like.

"I was in the area. You sounded pretty upset earlier, so I thought this might help."

⋆ You were touched by the gesture, a smile coming to your face as you thanked him. You knew he must have gone out of his way to get it, the bakery you liked being located on the other side of town. You leaned across the counter, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. The tips of his ears turned red as he looked to the side, his tail wagging behind him.

"I'll be back to walk you home when your shift ends. If you need me to come sooner, just call." ♡

I hope you enjoyed! ♡ Which dorm should I do next? ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.leona kingscholar #♡.ruggie bucchi #♡.jack howl #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #leona x reader #ruggie x reader #jack x reader #savanaclaw

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luvfy0dor · 2 days

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“Rise and Shine, Sweetheart ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky

warnings; probably a little ooc

description; morning routines with select BSD men

A/n; I'm tired of these hoes omfg but anyways req break cause I think I've done 2 in a row now ^^ 3 more to go! Some of them are kinda harder to write out, but I'll give it my best, even if in the end I have to put them into short headcannons.

Dazai Osamu ★

Dazais morning routine consists of clinging onto your arm, trying to coax you back into a couple more blissful minutes in bed before you go off to work while he makes his decision on whether he's gonna go at all. Needless to say, you're the first one up, but he usually follows soon after, going to the bathroom to shower some mornings and emerging with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist while he rewraps his bandages. Sometimes he even asks for your help if you don't seem like you're running short on time, and he loves it when you assist him. He'll usually sit on the bed while you stand between his knees with the roll of cloth being passed back and forth between your left and right hands until you cover his arm. When he doesn't have you help him re-mumify himself, he'll find something for you to do for him. If he chooses to wear a tie, you're the one tying it. He likes when you hold his coat out for him to put on just so he can shrug it on and turn around to kiss you. His hand goes to cusp your cheek familiarly as he hums against your lips and lets his eyes flutter shut.

“Have a good day, y/n! I'll see you tonight, yeah? Don't take too long getting home, I was thinking we could do takeout and movie night! Maybe this time we'll even pay attention to the screen instead of each other the whole time, hehe.”

Chuuya Nakahara ★

Most mornings, Chuuya wakes up first. Sometimes he'll step onto the balcony to smoke a cigarette before you wake up from the disappearance of his warmth and watch the sunrise. It reminds him of you. When he's done with his cigarette, he'll come back inside and either scooch back onto the bed or lean over you to kiss your forehead and wake you up. He'll shake your shoulder gently and call out your name with his messy ginger hair pointing in all different directions. He'll smile down at you when your eyes peek open and place a kiss on your lips, greeting you and rubbing your arm lovingly. Other mornings, ones on the rare occasion that he had off, he would snooze in bed with you for as long as possible. You'd both cook something for breakfast, far from just grabbing a banana or pop tart like you would before work. Afterwards, he'd head to the shower, which you're always welcome to join, and afterwards brush his teeth and hair.

“Hey...time to wake up, y/n. I'm not comin' in here to get ya again, so you gotta get up the first time. No, no five more minutes- I gotta leave soon, so get up before I gotta leave without a goodbye kiss cuz you're still snoozing.”

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Fyodor is often up before you are, whether he slept last night or not you don't know, but you certainly don't mind when moments after you open your eyes he's gotten you some tea or coffee. He's great to be woken up by, because he's making sure you're up. He'll come back into the bedroom every two minutes if he needs to, calling out your name from the doorway and warning you that you're going to be late. While you're getting up and ready, he busies himself with reading and peering out the window at the sunrise. When you're finished, he'll kiss you goodbye at the door, his cold hand lingering on your waist as you turn to open the door. After you're gone, he dresses himself in his worn in white button down and pants, topping his outfit off with his boots, cape, and ushanka. He'll look around at the photos hanging on the wall of the two of you and smile to himself, swinging the door opening and leaving as well.

"Ah, good morning Myshka. I see you're finally awake, it only took me waking you up 6 times. I've brought you tea, but you've got to drink it quickly or else you'll hardly have time to get ready for yourself."

A/n; I cry a lot but I am so productive!!! It's an art!! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

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ur-local-anti-hero · 2 days

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Speak now

James Potter x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage

CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.

Word count: 2.2K

This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection

“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”

When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other.

Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them.

Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters.

The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious.

The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom.

All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life.

Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding.

Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.

You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed.

“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair.

You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter.

“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him.

Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room.

“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her.

You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror.

Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak.

“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago.

“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little.

That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest.

Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell.

“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time.

The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’.

You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears.

“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it.

There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time”

Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile.

“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you.

Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue.

You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle.

You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic.

It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore.

Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking.

“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace”

You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air.

“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened.

All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating.

───✥───

If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son.

Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised.

Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways.

Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony.

When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity.

But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by.

With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet.

And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders.

The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on.

James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"

James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise.

Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell.

As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends.

At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle.

"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere.

"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek.

“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong.

“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket.

And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place.

Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?”

“I do”

“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?”

You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again

“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride”

James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture.

When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face.

He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James.

And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you.

Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo

#marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter #marauders fic #james potter x reader #james x reader #james x you #james x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter fic #james potter x yn #james potter fanfic

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servicpop · 9 hours

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✶ ﹑ㅤlate nights ﹏

NOW STARRING : hockey bf Suguru x male!reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤyour boyfriend can't help himself before the big game, he has some sort of jinx!

✙ warnings — thigh fucking, size difference, use of "prince," hand-job

notes ,, tbh I know nothing about hockey i just wanted to make an au with suguru that isn't just the normal jjk plot... / also this was inspired by Jinx manhwa... the sex jinx thing you know

1:00 AM

The room is cloaked in the silence of the night; the soft light of the moon filtered through the half-closed blinds casting gentle shadows across the walls. The air is still, filled with the faint scent of lavender from the nearby candle. On the bed, Suguru and the you lay intertwined, your bodies molded together with you as the little spoon, and Suguru as the big spoon. The soft fabric of the sheets cocoones the both of you in warmth as you find solace in each other's embrace. At this point you're already fast asleep, lulled into a deep slumber as you lay in Suguru's arms. However, no matter how hard he tried to push the growing heat beside, he was kept awake from the raging boner he had.

With one arm wrapped around your waist while the other propped his head up, he watched your chest rise and fall steadily. You looked so peaceful. The pale hand placed on your waist snaked down to your thigh, caressing it slowly. "Hey, wake up, prince" He shook you awake gently, not wanting to jolt you awake but his saccharine, honeyed voice was enough to pull you back to sleep. A light hearted chuckle left his chest when he saw your sleepy eyes blink to conciousness, and the way your nose scrunched like a kitty was adorable to him.

Suguru's palm kept massaging your thigh as his breath tickled your neck, "I can't sleep," He whispered, groaning softly when his hips involuntarily grinded against your ass. It was an accident he swears, it wasn't his fault he couldn't sleep because of his erection... it didn't help how you were still half asleep, trying to process what was happening. You realised immediately when you felt something poke your back. "I'm tired..." you mumbled, your words barely reaching Suguru's ears. It was 1am, of course you'd be tired. "How about your thighs? I'll do all the work," you knew Suguru had a thing for your thighs, he would always squeeze and grope them any chance he got. He mentioned something about how it was the warmest and softest part of your body but you never really understood his rambles.

"You have a game tomorrow, Suguru," You scold but don't push away his grabby hands. You know about his "jinx" but to be honest it was most likely just an excuse to fuck you before games; it was probably a way for him to get rid of his stress. "I won't win if I don't feel you," He groaned, his fingers dipping in-between your thighs, trying to hoist them apart. At this point you let him, too overcome by your sleepiness to care.

The noise of fabric shuffling filled the otherwise quiet room as Suguru slots himself in between your thighs, pushing your plush flesh together to secure him. You could tell he enjoyed it as you heard a shaky and breathy moan from behind you. To be honest, you got off on it too, seeing the way his tip would peak out from in-between your thighs. You always knew he was big but it never failed to suprise you each time.

Slowly, Suguru moved his hips in a thrusting motion, drawing them away before pushing back in with a small noise of his skin making contact with yours. His breaths stuttered with each movement and his hands wandered up your shirt, caressing and feeling your stomach underneath his fingertips. Suguru wasn't extremely vocal but with the small grunts and huff he lets out when he's enjoying himself... drives your body insane and you can't help but grow aroused as well.

"You lonely?" Suguru chuckled, his hands moving down to the waistband of your pyjama pants. With a small mumble of 'there we go,' he slips off your pants, tossing them aside carelessly. He continues his thrusting, slipping his dick in-between your thighs rhythmically. With every thrust, you could feel Suguru's cock slip along the underside of yours. It was such a light feeling that it almost tickled. Suguru coos in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that barely register in your sleep-ridden brain. All you can focus on is his warm palm trailing to your cock. His hand clamps around you as he cradles it in his hand for a bit, allowing you to really feel the warmth from his hand. God you were already leaking. "Hah... feels good Sugu'"

"Does it now?" he hums in a sickeningly sweet and innocent tone, but the way his hands pumped your cock was far from innocent. His movements get faster, his hips went from slow and calculated thrusts to slamming his hips against the back of your thighs, chasing his pleasure alongside with your own. Both his hand and his dick sliding in between your thighs made whimpers slip out your lips. Suguru uses his other hand to hold you close to him, pressing his palm flat against your stomach to push you flush against his body.

"Gonna come," he grunts, his voice getting louder and more raspy as he keeps thrusting. The hand wrapped around your cock was still pumping with vigour, like he wanted you to lose yourself with him. Your voice wavers as moans flow out of your throat — Suguru's hands are way too skilled for their own good. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and your cock twitches in Suguru's hand. Your tip is so red its practically begging for him to have mercy but he doesn't stop. He wants to see your pleasure as much as he wants to feel you. Suguru's voice breaks slightly as he groans, white spurting out of his dick and coating your thighs as well as the sheets. He keeps pumping his hand until he feels you pulse and twitch before you come, "Mm... good boy, yeah just like that."

With a few more slow thrusts, Suguru finally stopped. He wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug-like way, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. He littered kisses all over your cheek and your jawline before speaking, "I'll do well tomorrow, thanks prince," Suguru chuckled softly, letting his eyes close while he settled down with you to catch up on the sleep he missed beforehand.

♡ little gift — X nsfw video that inspired this !!

a/n : this was meant to be an oc fic but decided I wanted it to be suguru...

#servicpop — fics/drabbles #bottom male reader #male reader #mlm #male x reader #sub male reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jjk x reader #Suguru x male reader #geto suguru x male reader #suguru geto x male reader #geto suguru x you #jjk smut #geto smut #male x male

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barcaatthemoon · 1 day

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the truth iii || leah williamson x reader ||

your first time back in spain after joining arsenal.

this is the final part to the truth. hope that anybody who followed along, enjoyed themselves.

it felt like a dream to be a part of the champion's league again. at first, you had been over the moon about everything. that is until you got the courtesy text from the barcelona girls that jenni was coming to the games. you knew to partially expect that. she may have left, but she was still going to support her friends at barcelona.

"hey, we're about to land," leah said softly as she nudged you. the last that she had known, you were fast asleep against her shoulder. the flight wasn't a very long one, but you had been eager to catch up on some sleep. "are you ready?"

"as i'll ever be." leah frowned at your response. she had watched you freak out after the texts had come in. it wasn't enough for jenni to come to barcelona to watch the champion's league final, but she had also made alexia ask if you'd join them.

you knew that she had asked other girls first, but most of them had refused to talk to you on her behalf. ona had even gone as far as to block the older player for nearly three weeks. alexia was the only one who had told you that, mainly as a courtesy since laia had also been invited. she didn't want you to feel left out, even if she knew the last thing you wanted to do was go out for dinner with your ex.

"hey, everything will be fine love, i promise," leah said as she gave you a peck on the cheek. "i know that we haven't really said anything to anybody else, but my offer still stands if you want me to come."

"are you sure?" you asked her. leah nodded. she knew that you'd need support, something to make sure that you didn't go running back to jenni. your national team friends would be doing that as well, but having leah there would be grounding for you.

things with leah were nothing like they had been with jenni. leah was a great fit for you. sometimes she could be a little shaky with communication, but with some gentle pushing, she'd open right up for you. leah had helped you gain back a lot of the confidence that jenni had seemingly stolen away after the breakup. she made you feel safe in a way that you had never known before.

"i love you," leah muttered as she pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

"i love you too," you told her. moments later, the plane landed and the two of you were shuffling off of it.

…

"and the traitor has arrived!" mapi shouted as you walked with laia and leah towards the table. you knew that she was joking, as she was the first of your old club teammates to run over to hug you. she wrapped her arms around you tightly, and it was only alexia and sandra's hugs that rivaled mapi's.

"i see that you brought someone with you," cata teased as she slung her arm over your shoulder. you glanced over towards leah, who was standing sort of awkwardly behind you. "care for proper introductions?"

"leah, these are our opponents. opponents, this is my girlfriend, leah," you said. actually saying the words made your chest swell with pride. leah stepped forward and took your hand as she waved with her other.

"when did this start?" alexia asked, motioning between the two of you. truthfully, you had fallen a bit out of contact with everybody back in spain. it was hard to keep up after having cut all contact in germany. laia would remind you about answering texts, but that was only because some of your less reserved teammates would pester her constantly.

"seven months," you answered confidently. "she is good to me, i love her."

"unfortunately that does not stop captain talks." alexia and irene both stood up, ushering leah out with them. you took a seat next to ona and lucy, who were trying to hold hands under the table discreetly. that left the seat next to keira open for leah to take whenever she came back.

"so, you and leah?" lucy asked. there was a small smile on her face, one that didn't completely hide her surprise. ona had mentioned that you were dating one of her english teammates, but lucy had assumed it was alessia. that had been originally who ona tried to set you up with at arsenal, but your chemistry with leah had been undeniable.

"it's good to see you happy," jenni said. everybody glared at her, as if she had no right to speak to you. you understood and appreciated their protectiveness, but it felt unneccessary. "i am glad that you are doing okay."

"thank you, jenni," you said. the reply felt forced. you could tell that she wanted to ask for a moment alone with you, but nobody else at the table would have let that happen. you were honestly shocked that sandra and cata hadn't tried to squeeze you in between them.

an awkward quiet washed over the table as your girlfriend returned with your captains. leah took the empty seat in between you and keira, who immediately started to interrogate leah about your relationship. you smiled listening to leah tell keira and the rest of the table stories about your first couple of dates and when she realized that she loved you.

it should have been perfect, but you couldn't stop the guilt that gnawed at you. jenni sat quietly towards the head of the table. she looked rough, worse than you could ever remember seeing her. even after everything that had happened during the world cup, she hadn't looked this bad. it seemed that jenni was finally coming to terms with the fact that you were really done with her.

you had once been so caught up in her that she didn't think it would ever be possible. somehow, you had moved away and moved on with someone else. jenni had to admit that leah really was perfect for you in all of the ways that she hadn't been. the two of you were different enough to work out well. you and jenni had been too similar, which was fun at first, but it quickly became a problem. jenni knew how to hurt you in ways that would never occur to leah.

"excuse me, i should head back to my hotel." jenni rose from the table without much fanfare. you watched her leave, itching to follow her out to talk to her. leah watched you carefully, unsure of what to do. it terrified her to let you go out there, but she knew that you needed to get some things off of your chest.

"go, talk to her. i'll be out to check on you in five," leah whispered in your ear. you hesitated but left when she gave you a small nod. everybody stared at leah like she had just grown a second head.

"you're a better woman than i am williamson," lucy said as she watched you walk out of the restaurant.

"she needs this, i have to let it happen. i have to trust that she'll come back to me." leah took some deep breaths to steady her nerves. she could go into the world's most important football game calm as ever, but this was making her heart pound in her chest.

"jenni, what happened? a year ago you were doing fine. what's changed?" you asked your ex. jenni had come outside and promptly sat down on the sidewalk. you stood behind her, unsure of how close to get. you didn't want to give her the wrong impression, knowing that she had been drinking a bit over dinner.

"you've got a girlfriend, and it looks serious. you moved on, and i'm still stuck here thinking about you constantly. every single day something reminds me of you, and it sets me back to square one. i've tried to find someone to settle down with because that's all i want, but i can't stand anybody for more than a few weeks because they're not you," jenni rambled. she looked up at you with tears in her eyes, ones that she had been waiting to shed until you were with her. she wanted you to dry her tears and tell her that you'd come back, but that was never going to happen.

"i am sorry that you are going through this, i am, but there is nothing i can do anymore. i have leah, and i love her more than i've ever loved anybody. we were good together, great sometimes, but it was always so physical. it wasn't easy, but i learned how to step away from that with leah. you need to find someone who doesn't just want to fuck you. find somebody to talk to," you told her.

"i don't want to talk to anybody, but you."

"we never did much talking jenni. it's not what you want to hear, but maybe you need to grow up. there's more to relationships than fucking, but i don't know if you're ready to accept that kind of truth." you had heard about her relationship with alexia, the last one that had really been serious from the sounds of it. "maybe i'm not the one you should be talking to."

"go back inside please," jenni grumbled. she sounded serious, far more serious than what you had ever heard before. you went back inside, catching leah as she made her way to come bring you in. the two of you sat down at the table together, leah integrating you into the bit of conversation she'd started with some of barcelona's defenders on who was the most frustrating striker they'd ever had to mark.

you hadn't done much defending in your career, especially not whenever your coaches had discovered your speed. they had quickly pushed you from the backline to the front lines. mapi and ona both complained directly about you, inciting the whole table to start telling leah all sorts of stories about you from your barcelona days. it was nice, and if you noticed alexia slip outside, you didn't mention it, even going as far as to distract everybody with a youth team story or two.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 day

Text

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER EIGHT: LOML

AND I'LL STILL SEE IT, UNTIL I DIE - YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, consumption of alcohol, (overly poetic) smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, technically unprotected sex even after the idiots discussed protection, minors dni

☆ WC: 3.9K+

☆ A/N: extremely sorry for the shortest chapter in this series yet. also, out of all the songs referenced for the title of chapters, this one might be the most on the nose. i kid you not, i cannot explain how perfectly loml encapsulates reader/sugar's emotions during this chapter. if you'd like the extra hurt, 10/10 recommends listening as you read. :)

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

“Can I kiss you, Sugar?”

You’ve made your fair share of dumb decisions in your life. Plenty of moments have slipped right between your fingers due to hesitation that you’d later regret, you have a catalog of embarrassing encounters to serve you a lifetime. You’ve said yes when your answer should have been a resounding no, you’ve made promises you knew were impossible to keep, and you’ve always had an unexplainable habit of digging yourself into graves that will surely bury you alive.

This moment is no different.

The correct reaction is to tell him no, to push him away and end the night here. You should leave before either of you make any mistakes and ruin whatever fragile thing resides between the two of you any further. There’s a million other options you should be taking, but at the end of the day, you still nod your head.

Not even a second later, Eddie’s lips are on yours, and it’s hard to call it a mistake when it’s the first time you’ve felt like you could properly breathe in two years.

He tastes like bourbon, and mistakes, and regret, and a youthful type of love impossible to grasp onto. A vague memory you never get to hold, but always learn to miss. When his hands travel slowly to your hips, you’re only pressing closer, deepening the kiss with the desperation of someone starved. Someone stained.

You were an idiot to think it wouldn’t end this way. You were in his apartment, and you were drunk. You were brimming with bad decisions. It was always going to end up this way.

Your knees somehow end up digging into the sofa cushions on either side of his hips, your recollection of how you climbed into his lap nonexistent. Had it been his doing, his own needy hands guiding you here? Or had it been you? You, with an ache that rang throughout your entire body, soothed only by sharing each of his breaths with him when he finally pulls back from the kiss.

“Are you sure you want thi-”

“Don’t ruin it,” you beg, silencing him as you look into those deep autumn eyes, memorizing rivets of soft auburn that never really changed. An ever changing kaleidoscope, but there were simply parts of Eddie he’d never be able to hide from you,to change, “Not yet. Please.”

You don’t know if you’ll want it come morning. You can’t estimate just how deeply the regret will burrow once it’s all said and done; you’re not in the mood to think sensibly. No hypotheticals, no curiosity for the future.

You just want him. Right here, right now. Far beyond just sex, and far beyond casual touches. But it’s the only way you can have him, the only way he can have you, for now.

His fingers are more skilled these days. More deft and nimble as they race up and down your sides, quickly undoing the button of your jeans and easily sneaking beneath your shirt. Two years could be two seconds with the way he still knows you and your body, knowing exactly where to apply more pressure as he plucks on every string beneath your skin that makes you sing out for him. Hums, gasps, moans – they all sort of blend together at some point, don’t they?

“I’ve missed you,” you swear you hear him mumble against the skin of your neck when his mouth begins to wander, “I’ve missed this.”

You convince yourself he didn’t say it just to avoid ripping yourself apart any further.

Instead, you busy your mouth with kissing him harder, faster, more desperately. You’re all but burying yourself in him. Your hips grinding against his, your lips swallowed in his, your hands finding themselves tangled in his hair.

You’re drunk enough that you convince yourself that this is it – this is home.

It feels natural to let him run you down this way. It’s instinctual as he takes his shirt off and your hands roam over bare skin that whispers with the ridges of paths you’ve traced before. You know that scar on his right hip from when he got his appendix removed as a child, you know that lightened patch of skin on his left thumb from when he’d managed to burn himself with a lighter while cutting class one day with you. You know him – so much better than you’d let yourself believe these last few weeks.

“Do you have a condom?” you pant, and you both pretend like your words are choked up from gasping to recover the air you’d offered to the kiss, and not the emotions rearing their ugly heads.

He does. Of course he does. He’s a rockstar now – he has women throwing themselves at him constantly. Of course he’s prepared.

It happens somewhere between him pulling the condom out of his wallet, and managing to pull his own shirt off. At some point in which you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, hips grinding down on his in sloppy circles, he lets out a low and drawn out moan. All your movements stutter, nearly halting, as that sound rings out around you. You swear, it echoes off the walls of your own head and not the eerily empty apartment.

You break as you gasp out, “Fuck, Eddie.”

Another dumb decision for the books. All it takes is you sighing his name for him to flip the entire script. Suddenly, you’re no longer straddling his lap, no longer biting his lip and gripping onto the back of the sofa for balance.

Your back collides with the cushions below and he hovers over you, kissing with more intent and purpose this time. Each press of his lips is followed by the nipping of teeth, desperately trying to mark you up along your chest, completely oblivious to the way he’s already left his stain.

You’re convinced if he presses his lips just hard enough, if he bares his teeth just sharp enough, he’ll see right through you. Your skin will become all but cellophane and he’ll see all those blooming violets and deep maroons still left behind in the shape of his mouth. He’ll see the way another has never followed these paths, not after him.

All the failed rebounds, all the failed distractions. There’s never been another person capable of taking your mind off of Eddie Munson. No one’s kiss ever made you bleed the way he’s capable, no one’s touch could ever erase the mark of his.

The wine still makes your head swim as your chin tilts to the roof, giving him all the room possible to paint whatever picture he’s vying for on your skin. You let him leave his physical mark; you let him leave a physical reminder of something to regret.

“Do you know how many times I played this moment back over in my head?” his voice is a murmur that vibrates against your sternum, words not quite slurring, “Do you know how many times I swore-”

You don’t know – and you never find out what exactly he had sworn time and time again as the trill ringing of a cell phone shatters the entire atmosphere.

One moment, Eddie’s lips are painting portraits along your chest and neck, the acceptance of making a mistake settling deep into your bones. And the next, he’s lifting up, looking wildly towards his kitchen, where you’re sure that it’s his phone buzzing erratically on the counter.

“I-” he looks wildly between you and the distant phone, pupils blown out and lips swollen, “Fuck, I-”

All the air leaves your lungs.

There will be no mistakes tonight.

“Go answer it,” you whisper, deflating as you accept the interruption. The moment’s over, fading in between the lipstick marks on your wine glass and the glow of the lamps scattered throughout his living room, “It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. It’s written plainly across his face that this is the furthest thing from fine at this moment. But duty calls; his phone is ringing, your mind is buzzing, and the moment is simply gone.

It has to be fine. You have to be fine with it.

“I’ll be right back,” he swears as he lifts himself up off the couch, but you know he won’t be.

Your shirt is already back by the time he’s reached the counter, laptop already tucked safely back into your bag as he answers the call.

“Hello?” he asks, eyes flitting over to you as he watches you gather your things, picking up the wine glass that had been yours the entire night in order to carry it over to the sink he leans against the counter next to. A bit of chatter comes from over the line, and Eddie’s entire face twists, “Am I busy? Yeah, yeah – as a matter of fact, I am.”

Just as you sit the glass into the sink, you bring a hand to his bicep, letting it rest there selfishly. Feeling his bare skin one final time, drinking in the heat he radiates through your palm, giving yourself one last chance to memorize it.

You’re not busy, you mouth to him with a sad smile.

He’s not. Because there will be no mistakes tonight.

You go to pull your hand away, prepared to somehow call an Uber or taxi, but he’s quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist just as your skin slides from his. It’s not forceful, but simply firm. Clinging with a desperation you can’t recognize.

Stay, he mouths back, the person over the line clearly continuing to speak without Eddie paying them any mind.

You almost do. You falter and consider dropping your bag then and there. You nearly stay, wait out the phone call, sit pretty and patient until he returns to you just as he had promised.

But he had left you with a promise of later once before, and he hadn’t kept his promise then.

“Oh,” you whispered, disappointment gripping your lungs, “Oh, that’s fine! Go, they need you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. You missed hearing that in person, that soft laughter in the shell of your ear over inside jokes and one too many glasses of wine. “Rockstar duties and all. We’ll talk more later?”

Later had never found its way back to the two of you all those years ago – why would it now?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds,” you whisper, soft enough to guarantee whoever was on the other side of the phone call wouldn’t hear you. The fall of his face is almost enough to make you take back the words and swallow them back down.

“Wait-” he’s not whispering, almost as though he’s forgotten about the call entirely. You can hear the silence over the line, probably in confusion, as you walk away, “Wait- No- I-”

You motion to the phone still pressed to his ear and cheek, trying to remind him that someone else can hear.

He removes it and ends the call before you can protest.

“Eddie-” you start to scold, but he refuses to hear any of it.

“No, no,” he sounds as though he might be begging. And you can’t tell if he’s begging you to not reprimand him, or if he’s begging you to not leave, “I don’t care. It was just Matt, he can wait till morning.”

It doesn’t answer the question of what he wanted from you.

“It’s getting late, anyways,” you’re still trying to detect your escape route, the longer you spend in the aftermath making your chest tighten more and more.

You can’t do this.

You can’t stand in this room with him and pretend that it’s all okay. You can’t act as though the wine’s effects are slipping away from you and you can’t brush off the feeling of his lips across your chest. You have no patience left to act as though your lungs aren’t shriveling up in your chest, unable to get enough air when he’s too close all while being all too far away.

It would have been a mistake, and you’re both better for the interruption.

Eddie shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh, “We aren’t doing this again, Sugar. We aren’t going to just pretend that didn’t happen-”

“Why not?” you challenge him, “This… it’s better this way, Eddie. If we kept it up, we both would have regretted it, and it’d just be another mistake-”

“Who’s we?” he cuts you off.

We. You, me, both of us. We’d both regret it, wouldn’t we?

But you still didn’t regret kissing him. You still didn’t regret sitting in his lap and drinking him in, you still wouldn’t take back whatever moment was shared prior to the phone’s interruption.

All your regrets are spoken in future tense. All the mistakes are somewhere ahead of you, your mind running to things that haven’t happened yet.

How do you know if you’d regret it? How do you know if he’d regret it?

Your hold on your bag begins to loosen, “I- Both of us. We’d both regret it.”

“I wouldn’t regret it. I don’t think I could ever regret you.”

This is the part you walk away. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, you tell him to have a goodnight, and you leave. You’ll see him tomorrow, and you’ll pretend this conversation never happened.

Except you don’t.

Your bag falls to the ground, a muted crash that probably pisses off his downstairs neighbors. The toes of your shoes knock into the worn bag, kicking it to the side with more gentleness than you should be capable of right now. When he reaches out a hand to hold you, you take it.

You let him get his hot palms back on your body. You let his lips find their way back to yours.

You finally just let the mistake happen and take the chance on finding out if the regret is nothing more than shadows in the closet, make-believe once you turn the light back on.

The couch isn’t the destination this time. You’re almost sad that you don’t get to admire any of his decor as he drags you down the hallway, but you also doubt there’s even a sliver of the ghost of the man holding onto you in any of it. He’s not on the walls, he’s not in the pictures; he’s right in front of you, kissing you heavily and desperately, letting his feet stumble right over yours as he finally reaches blindly for the knob of the door behind you. He’s in the rings pressing into the skin of your hips and he’s in the wavering cologne that bursts from his sheets as he carefully drops you back on a bed far too large for one man.

He’s in the shadow hovering over you, he’s in the slide of his leg as he spreads your thighs to find home between them. He may not haunt this apartment, but he haunts you. Your body, your mind, your senses.

Always have, always will.

Alcohol isn’t clouding the moment anymore as each kiss is gentler, retracing the bruises already forming across your collar bones. He’s taking his time, enjoying himself, no longer rushing through the process of getting to know you again. The loss of your shirt and the unbuttoning of your jeans is done with shaking hands this time. Less sure, but far more determined.

Your own hands are steady, though, as you undress him. You’re sure. This is your mistake to make, your mistake to regret. And maybe he had a point – maybe it is impossible for either of you to regret each other. For all the tears shed and all the nights spent cursing his name, it’s never once crossed your tongue that you wanted to erase him. You think if someone were to try and take him, take all that you two had shared together from you, that they’d be met with white knuckles and deathly screams. A rancid animal foaming at the mouth, refusing to let go of the one thing it had ever managed to sink its claws into.

You’d forgotten just how well you know him.

It was beyond superficial scars and childhood stories. You still remember the exact pulse point that makes him moan out with just a brush of your mouth against it. You can still find that spot above his hips that spasm when your hands grip them, encouraging him to grind down onto you. You know his body, you know his past, you know his mind.

Words are no longer necessary as it finally happens.

Prayers of each other’s name, ignorance in the way this entire moment was becoming too gentle for two fools rekindling. A practiced dance you once only ever dreamt of swaying to with him.

You would have given him everything. You did give him everything. Your youth, your future, your aspirations, your daydreams of a glittering gem on your sacred finger and a list of baby names the two of you had argued over endlessly. All those things still belong to him, even now. Even as this new version of him hovers over you, lips trailing with purpose over your abdomen, making his way down to your core.

You can’t tell if he’s a stranger when he places a hot kiss over the cotton of your underwear. You can’t tell if you ever spent two years away from him as his hands hold down your hips when they buck in response.

“Eddie,” you beg, fingers lacing into his curls just as they had earlier, gripping onto him for dear life. You’re looking down at him between your thighs, refusing to blink on the off chance that he’ll simply vanish when you do, “Please.”

“Please what, Sugar?”

“Touch me,” you gasp out as his fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, colossus course against soft skin, “Kiss me, fuck me- I just-”

No further explanation is needed. Your wish is his command.

Your panties are tossed to the hardwood floor at the edge of the bed as if they always belonged there. His mouth ravishes you as if this was just a nightly routine between the two of you. As if he didn’t have to second think what pace you might prefer, or when to add the first finger. Or the second. He plays you beautifully, crooking his fingers and nipping at sensitive skins and nerves alike, listening to the way you only seem to remember his name. Like you don’t remember the sound of a dial tone instead of declarations of adoration, like you don’t remember the excuses for him denying you all his attention.

You wish you could just stay in this moment forever. Him, buried between your thighs. All hurt and all stains forgotten when he builds you up to the edge, when he murmurs against your clit about how pretty you look for him right now.

Cheap wine soaking Halloween costumes. Hazy rooms, smokey with youthful desires and incense. Dancing in an apartment filled with boxes not yet unpacked. Whispers of something being real. Late night trips to the gas station and all the pride in your eyes as you heard his song played on public radio for the first time. The terrible waiting, the messy kisses of more teeth than lips. A simple necklace adorned with a simple ring, burning with more promises than either can comprehend, still gathering dust at the bottom of your jewelry box to this day.

Just in case. Just in case he ever came back; just in case you ever returned.

By the time he’s climbing back up your body, you have one foot in the past, cleaving yourself in two as you cling to him like water.

“Look at you,” he whispers when his face is back above yours, lips still slick with you, “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You swear, for just a moment, his eyes are mirrors. And you can see that dazed look you wear, the face of a woman still trapped by her past. The face of someone who can’t let the dead stay buried. Someone you wouldn’t describe as beautiful, but Eddie would.

You should have left. You should be regretting this. You only pull him closer.

His boxers bunch at his ankles, your fingernails dig into his back. When you feel him press against you, the tip of his dick just barely tapping against your clit, your entire body tenses. This was it. This was the mistake you had taken responsibility for, this was the choice you’d decided was worth damnation. A simple slip up, a quick fall backwards, and you’ll be right back where you started two years ago.

“You still want this?” he sighs into your ear, clearly feeling the way you’d froze up.

Your breath catches for just a second. More memories, more images that cut straight through you. Every careless afternoon, every serene morning. Every haunted night.

“Yeah,” your entire body relaxes, muscle by muscle, “Yeah, I still want this.”

You mean more than just the sex.

The press of your heels into his lower back is all the encouragement he needs to finally push into you. The stretch burns, but it’s welcome all the same. Just an aftereffect of years of emptiness, of failing to ever find something that could make you feel as whole as he does.

The moan he lets out as he’s wrapped in your warmth sends shivers down your spine. You swear, laced in it, there lies a gasp of relief. A sigh of coming home after a long tour, the huff of an exhale just before he crosses the threshold of a front door and has you in his arms again.

You don’t know when the tears started.

But between his thrusts, between all his wanton groans and your own quivers of excitement, your cheeks turn wet.

“Then I say let it burn.”

You can’t tell if it’s sweat or his own tears seeping into your skin as your bodies press together harder, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

“I love you so goddamn much, it hurts. I can’t believe this is real.”

You find your hands tugging on the roots of his curls even harder as you try to tether yourself back to him, but it’s no use.

“When I get back, all I care about is you.”

It all comes crashing down on both of you as his face is buried in the crook of your neck and your thighs squeeze around his hips – all the love that was there, all the love that was lost. All the love that still remains.

“Something for you to always have as a reminder that I’ll come back to you. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”

He’d always warned you this would happen. That one day he’d come back to you. That he’d only ever come back for you.

It doesn’t matter how deep of scratches you leave across his back, or how many hickies he paints your skin with. There will never be enough bloodshed between the two of you to wash away the truth. It’s not a mistake, it’s not something to regret. You wish it was; you wish it were so simple. No, this moment was one thing and one thing only – inevitable.

They always did say that your life would flash before your eyes right before you die.

And flash it does – a lifetime of love that was had and love that will never come back to you – as Eddie brings you both to your graves from the most cursed of little deaths.

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