#like its off key and every word sounds like its hard to get out and everything is LOUD and its so full of emotion

[rottenblur]

Something new|A.ANDERSON

(Request) 1.3k words| a valentines day fic:)

Summary: After a uneventful double date Abby makes it up to you in the best way she could think of.

Warnings: couch sex, abby eating whipped cream off your body, oral, (insecure reader???), fingering, first time oral with abby

Abby couldn't care any less about body hair. You think she even liked it. Your relationship with her was fresh but since you guys started dating and even before you were official she couldn’t take her hands off you.

Whenever you two were in public, her hands tightly around your waist she would tuck her hands into your shirts rubbing that little patch of hair going up your stomach.

When you decided to shave it one day with the rest of your body hair, as you thought shit was going to heat up with her that night. She took off your pants and looked slightly disappointed. It didn't cross your mind that she might like it till now.

The two of you had just got back from a friends house, you plop on the couch, throwing up your feet as they hurt from standing around for small talk for so long.

Abby tosses her coat onto the kitchen counter. “You have fun baby?” She asks you as she walks over to the couch. You shake your head, she tilts her head in response. “‘M exhausted, never knew someone could talk about wine for so long.” You say. She nods her head then separates your legs to tuck herself between them to lay on your chest.

“It’s obnoxious, they just sound snotty.” She says giving you a kiss on your clothed chest. “Did you have fun?” You ask, she turns her head to look at you. “I don’t know what I was thinking, taking you there for a valentines date, double dates aren’t it.” She laughs to herself, you join in.

You smile at her, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You can make it up to me.” She smirks at you. “Yeah? How?” She says and you shrug.

After hours of laying on the couch with her, you were starting to get worried that you were too forward with not liking your plans for today and that she was hurt. You decided to say something, you guys knew each other as all couples do but in fresh relationships in the past it’s hard to tell what hits a nerve and what doesn’t.

“Hey—“ She cuts you off before you can continue speaking. “Is it too late to go to the store?” She asks, you look at your watch and shake your head in confusion. She kisses you, gets off you to put on her coat and boots, she looks at you then grabs her keys.

“Be right back baby.” She opens the door and walks out. Was she upset about what you said, it’s not like there was anything the two of you needed right now.

You flip through channels on the tv anxiously waiting for her to return, like a dog waiting by the door for its owner. Everytime someone would walk in the hallway of your apartment complex you’d think it was her, getting excited then disappointed when you don’t hear the key jingle in the lock.

Finally after watching an episode or two of adventure time (a guilty pleasure of yours) the lock turns and she stomps off the snow on her boots. You sit up with excitement, she holds a plastic bag with the nearby grocery store’s logo printed on it.

“What’d you get?” You ask her. She smiles, “You’ll find out.” She said, you got up and walked towards her, trying to peek in the bag.

She places the bag onto the counter and turns you around, your back flush to her chest. She takes something out of the bag, you can feel her arm move as she shakes it. You feel a cold squirt of whipped cream be squirted on your neck, you flinch at the sudden coldness.

She leans down and sucks it off your neck, licking every last drop off. She mumbles into your neck. “I wanna try something new.” You nod, her kissing deep bruises into your neck.

She grabs your hand, pulling you to the couch and crawling on top of you, she puts the whipped cream can on the coffee table and works your shirt off. She squirts blobs from your neck down to your chest. “Is this the new thing you wanted to try?” You ask her, she sucks a blob of cream off your collarbone, leaving behind a purple patch behind and shakes her head.

“Sort of.” She moves her way down to your chest, sucking the cream of your nipple, you didn’t know if she knew what she was doing but she was definitely doing a lot.

“Abby..”. You say. She looks up at you. “What is it baby?” She asks you, you buck your hips into her stomach. “I need you.” You whine. She smirks at you, squirting a blob along your hips and sucking from one side to the other. She grabs at your waist band, as she slides down but you stop her.

“Are you okay?” She asks you. You nod. “I just, I didn’t shave so..” she tilts her head at you. “I don’t care baby, I just want to taste you, I don’t care about a little hair.”

You look at her in shock, you had never met someone who wanted to eat you out without being clean shaven. Abby had never eaten you out before, and you didn’t think she wanted the first time with you to be like this.

“Yeah okay, please.” You say and she sucks the last drop off you then removing your pants, you look away and she digs the fuck in.

You had never experienced something that was this good with their tongue ,and it just came as muscle memory to her.

She held your thighs as they tighten around her head, her tongue dancing around your clit as you feel your hips bucking into her face. She moves her hand to hold down your hips, her other arm moving to circling your slit with two fingers.

She plunges her fingers inside you forcing a moan out of you. “You can take it baby, you’re doing so good.” She pumps her fingers inside you, curving them to hit just the right spot.

You feel yourself edge right on the brink of unfolding, Abby’s words leading you there.

“Just like that doll, taking me so well.” Everytime she diss connected her lips from you to speak you felt the worst loss of your life but her words filled the lack of touch.

She speeds up her fingers, keeping a steady pace with her mouth till it hits you, all at once. You cum all in her mouth, on her fingers and it drips down her chin so beautifully. She looks up at you, looking you up and down at your fucked out face and quick breathing.

“Happy valentines baby.” She says and smiles at you, helping you sit up.

You smile back at her, giving her a kiss on her lips and a soft one on her neck. “Definitely the happiest one I’ve had, thank you.” You say to her, you give her a hug of appreciation, not just for the head but because of how wonderful she is. She knew you were having a rough day and made it impossibly better.

“Go get cleaned up, I’ll get you some clean clothes and water.” She smirks at you, as you walk off to the bathroom.

You try to calm your shaky legs as you fix your hair, you practically stumble to the mirror and when you look in all you could do is stare.

She had covered you from neck to thighs in hickeys, big sloppy purple hickeys. You wouldn’t be able to forget about this for at least a week due to the constant reminder all over your body.

Abby notices the silence and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you and whispering in your ear.

“Gotta mark what’s mine.”

A/n: i lost my og draft of this aka I LOST THE REQUEST i trued to keep it as close to the request as i can. Happy valentines day

#rottenblur #rotten!request #tlou hbo #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby fluff #abby x you #the last of us abby #abby fanfiction #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby the last of us #abby smut #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson masterlist #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fluff #tlou smut #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #tlou 2

[ma1dita]

im begging on my knees for you to see my vision of riding Luke in the driver’s seat of a car after a stressful and dangerous quest 😩😭 THE TENSION!? THE ROUGHNESS??

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

mdni

luke castellan x reader

a/n: it's 7am... i... don't know either. smut. unprotected sex. semi public. slight exhibitionism

wc: 835

riding luke in the driver's seat of a car he stole while accompanying you on your first official quest.... having a car was a quicker way to get the job done he said, and chris also reasoned the old lady they carjacked won't know what she's missing. with two sons of hermes against you, even if you disagreed with them they still wouldn't hear a single complaint from your lips once you could sit in the ac instead of trod through the summer midwestern heat.

a week later you're sitting in the parking lot of a motel in rural illinois. one second you're grinning over the success of your quest and waiting for chris to come back with the room key and the next second luke's pulling you over the console into a bruising kiss that makes his cracked lips bleed. days ago you remember watching luke pick the locks of this car just as easy as he flicks your belt open just now, your knees digging into the hot metal of the seatbelt mechanism next to his thighs as you rise up from your haunches and he can see the sweat glistening on your tummy, back arching over the steering wheel. your shirt flies over his shoulders and lands somewhere in the backseat. shorts following as quick as he can pull them off you, slick rubbing against the meat of your thighs so much that when you sit back down on his lap he can feel it through his jeans---the heat isn't just coming from the red glow of the motel sign almost vibrating with the words 'open 24/7'.

he presses your back across the wheel, one hand snaking up to your throat and the other dragging your panties to the side for him to peek and prod at in the dim light. with his seat leaned all the way back, he watches you like you're something out of the porn magazine chris jokingly nicked from the gas station earlier, shiny with sweat and something he can smell, desire reeking from every pore of your tired body. demigod aside, you're a fucking fever dream, a nasty thought that keeps luke hard at night until he can jack off when everyone finally goes to sleep in cabin 11. the only thing he'll be thanking the gods for is the fact that his brother left you two long enough for a quick fuck.

"luke, we're still dirty," you mumble, but he knows you couldn't care less, both of you covered in blood and grime and unable to know where he ends and you begin once his fly goes down and you sink onto him like a perfect mold. this is filthier---the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him tight with every thrust of your hips downwards like he'd ever want to leave this small slice of heaven.

"f-fuck, just like that...you're so tight f'me..."

you grab onto his curls to make him look at you in the dim lighting, dipping your fingers into his mouth as you rock your hips hard and he sucks on them like they're covered in nectar---sharp tongue and plump lips dancing around your digits despite the dirt under your nails but he's entranced by the way your eyes roll back once he starts fighting against your rhythm. it's not a competition but with every noise that spills from your lips as he pistons into your sopping warmth, he thinks he might be winning.

"so dirty baby... you're right... feels too good to stop though huh?" he grins at the sound of sticky skin slapping once he bucks his hips up faster. through the steamy windshield, he can see curtains rustling in the windows near where he parked the car. maybe it's the way the whole vehicle is shaking with the force of your hips, the headlights he accidentally turned back on when taking your clothes off, or maybe its the way you're screaming his name like you want someone to hear.

"oh, luke, i can't! slow down, people are gonna...see!"

you're holding onto his shoulders and peeking at his face through teary lashes and this motherfucker has his tongue between his lips smiling---mortals be damned. they can watch if they want, regardless he fucks into you like he means it. until you fall apart on his cock and there are red handprints on your hips from where he pulls you off of him, the both of you pulling at his cock with his hands over yours until hot streaks of cum paint your tummy to your tits.

there's a knock at the window. rolling the window down at eye level, luke makes eye contact with chris who looks at his brother with a knowing grin. you've thrown your head onto his shoulder in embarassment, sandwiching the multiple stains and fluids between your shaking bodies.

"shower's open. you guys were... occupied so i went ahead. you both need it," chris smirks, before sliding luke the extra key card.

and he's right. the both of you need a shower. good thing the next step after getting dirty is scrubbing each other clean, right?

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩ #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x reader smut #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Hotel Voluptas: Check(ed) In (You)

voluptas (latin; noun): pleasure, satisfaction, delight

pairing: idol!Mingyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers!AU (sorta) - minors dni.

warnings: hotel sex, oral (both receiving) protected sex, mean dom!mingyu, degradation, mild jealousy (reader is a carat and her bias ain't gyu lmao), spanking, rough sex, multiple orgasms and positions, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, dirty talk, use of petnames, mentions of threesome, mentions of panic attack (it's not actually happening dw)

word count: 4k

summary: you're just a regular tourist in Seoul who visits a regular hotel to spend your nights. except the hotel isn't your regular one - let alone its patrons and needs.

Author's note: this is an altered version of a mingyu dream i had a few nights ago msdnfsmnfs thank you to @playmetheclassics for coming up with the title and @idyllic-ghost for beta-reading this fic 💕

nsfw taglist: @rosecult​​ @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @lovelyhan @luvv4svt @novalpha @wonderfulshinee @foxinnie8 @sstarrysshit @threedalla @enhacolor @seuomo @spk93 @snoozeagustd @strawberryya

unable to tag: @kkakkameori @patisseriam @0717luv @coachukaishairband

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Good evening, sir Lee. The usual?” 

“You know me, Hyun,” the man clad in total black clothing whips out his credit card to slide over the machine, the familiar sound of the accepted payment ringing like music to his ears.

“We’re all good! Here’s your key, sir.” The receptionist hands over the key to the unknown man and the latter heads off with a slight nod. A couple of bills is all he leaves behind for the receptionist - a thank you gift for his continuous discretion.

Lee Saejin. That was the registered name for the room reservation.

But it’s obviously a fake name - besides, nobody would really care if a random guy was staying over in a hotel surrounded by oddly well-kept rumors. 

But the idol Kim Mingyu spending his nights off in this hotel, sleeping in the arms of a different person every time he visits? Press scandal worthy, to say the least.

So he settles with a silly fake name and escapes through the danger exit doors - not that he minds, when he gets much needed sexual relief after hellish weeks of tight-packed schedules.

All of the stressful thoughts are discarded once he steps into the room and he’s met with a gorgeous lady, sipping on what seems to be expensive champagne.

“Hey there,” Mingyu greets the woman as he discards his coat and takes the hem of his shirt to remove it.

“Let me do the dirty work, mister,” she gets up and holds his wrists, gently peeling them off the fabric so she can take it off herself, “Can’t have you doing more work than you already do, right?”

“As if you haven’t been working your pretty ass off, sweetheart,” he smirks and pulls her flush to his body, his hands kneading her ass over the silky dress.

“I think we should do less talking-”

“And more fucking?” 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Ugh, why is it so hard to find a decent hotel at a decent price?!”

You want to slam your laptop on the table and crush it into tiny pieces. You have one chance to go to South Korea and the only thing that’s stopping you is finding a damn hotel to stay in.

It’s either an over-the-top super expensive hotel that you need to sell both of your kidneys to afford a couple of nights or it’s a very dingy motel in a suspicious neighborhood.

“No….Not this one….Definitely not this one….Not this one either….”

Suddenly your eyes fall on a neat-looking hotel, with a very good score in reviews.

“Oh? Perhaps?” You scroll through the pictures of the site, the hotel rooms looking exactly like what you’ve been looking for - it almost feels like it’s too good to be true.

You check out the reviews and a few giggles escape from your lips while reading them.

“You will not regret staying in this hotel ;)”

“10/10 would go visit again, spent the best nights of my LIFE”

“you’ll literally spot celebrities in there I’M NOT FUCKING KIDDING”

“Celebrities? Wow, people have a lot of humor,” you chuckle, “But it’s a pretty good hotel - Got nothing to lose, right?”

You don’t hesitate to book a room with a double bed (a girl just wants to lay like a starfish) and pay with your credit card, the booking confirmation arriving in your mail inbox shortly after. You proceed to book your flight tickets with a beaming smile on your face, excitement coursing through your entire body in the forms of jitters.

I’m gonna have so much fun.

You feel like you were put in the blender and got splattered on the floor.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t traveled by plane in a long time, maybe it was the duration of the flight, or a combination of the two - either way, you just wanted to faceplant in the mattress of the hotel bed.

You feel very grateful to the taxi driver who offered to carry your suitcase until the entrance of the hotel. You thank him for the ride and hand over the corresponding amount of money, bidding him farewell.

You walk through the glass doors of the hotel and you suddenly feel very much awake.

The whole place feels so luxurious yet not intimidating, as if it’s calling you to explore its deepest parts. You look around you and see people waiting at the lobby, the majority of them wearing face masks and you feel conscious for not wearing one.

You timidly approach the reception counter, dragging your suitcase behind you. You ring the bell on the marble counter and wait for someone to appear.

“Good evening, miss. What can I do for you?” The receptionist appears and you’re blown away from how dashing he looks.

“Um, hello, I’ve booked a room under the name Y/N L/N? I-It’s one with a-”

“A double bed, yes, I am aware,” the man chuckles, “It’s not like we have single beds in this hotel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said that the rooms in our hotel do not have single beds.”

You blink twice. Is he serious right now?

“Um,” you scratch your cheek, “May I ask why?”

“Miss Y/N, are you aware of the services we provide here?”

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t this just a regular hotel where people spend a few nights to rest after visiting Seoul?” 

He takes a quick glance left and right and moves his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion and you inch closer, purely out of curiosity.

“Do you see all those people waiting here?” 

You nod in agreement.

“They wear facial masks because they don’t want to be recognized in public.”

Your eyes go wide and your brain recalls all of the reviews you read online - they were fucking true.

“Are you saying that they come here to fuck?!”

“Shhh! Don’t be so loud!” he shushes you in a panic, “But yeah, that’s what they’re here for -  that’s what this hotel is for, technically.”

Just your fucking luck.

“There was none of that crap on the website!” You whisper in a state of panic.

“What did you expect, miss? To write ‘hello we have rooms for you to fuck your brains out with other people’?” He deadpans with a straight face.

“Okay fine, you have a point,” you huff in annoyance, “But isn’t that, like….Illegal?”

“Illegal? Oh no no, there are no sex workers here, only people of high social profile who want to have a good time,” he clarifies, “We’re just the confidential party who run this hotel.”

“So, um..” you trail off, “Does that mean I’m obligated to share a room with someone here?”

“Of course not! You did book a room for one person, after all.”

“Okay….” you answer and think for a while, but your thoughts are as clear as a cobweb.

“You can call me Hyunjin, by the way.” The receptionist introduces himself after a long time.

You give him a quick smile and go back to the ordeal of putting your thoughts in a coherent order.

“Hey, Hyunjin?”

“Yes?”

“Do idols come here too?” 

The man licks his lips before smirking.

“I am not allowed to disclose such information, my dear.”

“So they do,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Again, I am not allowed to disclose such information.”

“Fine, I’ll find out for myself, then.” You muster up your confidence.

“Excellent,” Hyunjin smiles and pulls out a piece of paper and a tablet, “Want me to hand you over a pen?”

“Yes please,” you answer without lifting your head from the papers you’re reading, quickly realizing it is indeed, a NDA. Of course they would have those.

You carefully check all of the pages (including the footnotes) and you sign the NDA without a fuss, Hyunjin’s signature following right after.

“What’s that for?” You look at the bright screen, filled with a list of names and X marks.

“This is where we store the information of our regular clients and the rooms they usually stay in,” he explains, “The X marks next to the names you see indicate that these people are already with someone…If you get what I mean. Also, there are the gender symbols to indicate...well, their gender.”

A notification comes up in your phone and you slide it out of your pocket, mumbling a quick sorry to Hyunjin, so you can text your friend back that you made it safely to Seoul. The man takes a quick glance at your phone case, pursing his lips tight.

“Okay, where were we? The clients, right?”

“Yes. That is, if you want to try meeting one of them - You can always keep your reservation as it is and quietly spend your nights here on your double bed.”

“Well,” you bite your bottom lip, “I’m a single girl in Seoul to have fun, might as well get laid with someone hot, right?” You tilt your head in a cheeky way.

“As you wish, miss - Have you decided on who you’re gonna pick?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” 

You carefully check the list with all the unmatched names and your eyes fixate on the name Lee Saejin.

“This one.”

Now it’s Hyunjin’s turn to be surprised, but he’s only allowed to nod and do the reservations.

“You just had a really weird expression on your face.”

“Who, me? Nope, definitely not!” He defends himself while trying to put down the necessary information to complete the process.

“What’s wrong with the name I picked?”

“Nothing at all,” he bites back a smile, “On the contrary, you picked a really good one.”

“Okay….” you side eye him, “Can I go now?”

“You’re too eager for someone who looked like splattered jam on the floor not too long ago.” He hands you over the card key for the room.

“You’re one peculiar receptionist,” you take the key and drag your suitcase on the smooth floor.

“Hope you enjoy your stay in Hotel Voluptas, miss!” Hyunjin yells before you disappear behind the elevator doors, which earns him a few irritated glares from other guests. He clears his throat and absentmindedly smooths over his hair and clothes, going back to his business

“Hoo boy, she’s in for a real treat.”

You feel like a lunatic.

If anyone else was in your shoes, they would have run the fuck out of this place and take the first flight back home. 

But you feel excited. Almost ecstatic.

You never thought the reviews/rumors you had heard about Hotel Voluptas were actually true but now that you’re one step away from finding out who Lee Saejin truly is.

You take a deep breath before opening the door and check underneath your shirt to make sure you’re wearing a pretty lingerie set - just in case, you know.

You slide the card key over the electronic lock and the door opens. You enter the room and you quickly realize there’s nobody inside.

“Huh? That’s weird,” you close the door behind you and set your suitcase next to the wardrobe. You take a look around the room, noticing how neat and pristine it looks. You sit on the bed and touch the sheets, your palm gliding over the silk.

“Damn, that’s real luxury right here.” You let out a low whistle.

“You should see the jacuzzi, that’s peak luxury.”

The unknown voice scares you so much you end up falling down on the carpeted floor with a thud.

“Ouch…”

“Shit, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” The stranger bends down to help you stand on your feet, your ass slightly stinging from the sudden impact.

“Yeah, I think so-” you raise your head and look at his face, any coherent sentence dying down in your throat and any rational thought disappearing from your brain.

The man standing in front of you - the half naked man - is Kim Mingyu.

Kim fucking Mingyu of Seventeen.

You cover your mouth in shock, sitting on the bed to realize what the fuck is going on.

“You must be Y/N, right?” Mingyu speaks.

“No, I’m not.”

“What? But I’m sure Hyunjin sent me the correct info…”

“Wait, my info?!”

“Um, yeah. For the NDA, y’know?”

“Oh. Right.”

You don’t know if you want to jump out of the window or jump his bones right this instant.

“I know this is sudden, but that’s how things work in here,” he flashes his signature smile, his perfectly white canines shining brighter than your future.

“Is this even real?”

“You can always touch me, y’know?”

“NO!”

“No?”

“Wait, I mean yeah- Shit, I-”

“Do you need some time alone? I’m kind of worried right now,” Mingyu admits with a nervous look, “I don’t want you to panic right now.”

“I just- Hyunjin did tell me that celebrities come here, but I didn’t expect to see YOU of all people!” You admit with a wheeze.

“I mean, I am a guy with sexual needs as well.” He lets out a chuckle.

“But you were supposed to be at your dorms and resting!”

“Says who?”

“The news channel live…..You left the airport with the members in the cars….So I assumed you….” You trail off, your voice getting quieter.

“So you’re a fan, huh,” he smirks, “That makes it even better.”

“Y-Yeah, hence the shock….”

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“Oh, so now you’re gonna pull the shit you do at fansigns, huh?” Your demeanor changes as you sit up on the bed.

“Is it working?” He towers over you, adjusting the towel around his waist, your eyes zoning on the water droplets cascading from his beefy chest all the way down to his v-line.

“Maybe.” You admit and you feel your cheeks flaring up as he climbs on the bed, his body frame hovering above yours.

“Good, that means my game is still going strong.”

“Or your fans are way too whipped for you.”

“You’re not a gyuldaengie?”

Fuck, wrong move.

“Who is it, darling?”

“Not telling you.” You challenge him.

“No need to tell me, I already know either way.” He grins like an imp as he stretches his arm to pick up your phone from the floor.

“Wonwoo hyung, huh?”

“Hey, give that back!” You try to take the phone back, but he pins your wrists above your head with his hand.

“You wish he was here instead of me?”

“And what about it?”

“Too bad he’s a fucking loser who does gaming lives for his fans.”

“Shut up, I love those!”

“Of course you do - It’s just that fucking pretty girls like you is way more fun, don’t you think?”

You let out a shaky breath at his words -  Kim Mingyu just called you pretty and it has you melting on the spot.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks you with a whisper.

“Please.”

It’s all Mingyu needs to put his lips on yours, his hands now perched on your clothed body, fingers dancing dangerously around the hem of your shirt.

“Just take it off already!” You squirm underneath him.

“So demanding, tsk…” He takes off your shirt and unbuttons your jeans, leaving you only in your lingerie.

“Demanding yet dressed for the occasion, I see.”

“It was coincidental!” You defend yourself, “I just like wearing pretty underwear, is that bad?”

“Not at all, darling,” he licks his bottom lip, “I always appreciate pretty things on pretty people.”

He presses a chaste kiss on the column on your neck, and another one on your collarbone, and a lot more scattered over your chest and abdomen, paying extra attention to your lower stomach, just above the hem of your thong.

“G-Gyu-”

“Oh so we’re on a nickname basis now?” Mingyu hooks his fingers on the thin elastic band and slides it down your legs, letting out a whistle when he spreads your thighs all the way to your hip bones.

“Not that I mind you calling me Gyu, obviously.”

“You’re so insufferable, oh my God, just lic- AH!”

You moan out loud when he parts your lower lips with his thumbs and starts sucking on your clit. 

You thread your hands in his silky black hair, pulling it each time he presses his tongue a bit harder on the spots that make you squirm beneath him. 

You always knew Mingyu had very attractive lips, but feeling them making out with your pussy in such a sloppy manner makes your head spin.

You let out a particularly loud moan when you feel his thumb stretch your hole, all while he spits on your clit just to lick it even harder than before, followed by a particularly harsh suck.

“Fuck!” Your thighs squirm and almost close around his head, but he keeps them open with his arms, his chocolate eyes staring at you.

“You’re really squirmish, aren’t you?”

“It’s not my fault-”

“That I’m eating your pussy so good you don’t want me to stop?”

God, you really want to slap him. But he’s right.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, darling?”

“You stopped eating my pussy.”

Mingyu clicks his tongue in annoyance and flips you around, lifts your ass and goes back to eat you out like a starved animal. 

“Oh my- Fuck, it feels so fucking good, Gyu!”

“Oh yeah? Would Wonwoo hyung eat you like this?” He smacks your ass.

“Mmmfh-”

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He smacks your ass again, a bit harder this time.

“I won’t fucking tell you!”

“Bratty little bitch,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance and gets up from his place, circling the bed to stand in front of you, finally dropping his towel.

Big would be too little of a word to describe what hangs between his legs.

You gulp audibly, mouth salivating at the sight of his deliciously thick cock, your insides jolting at the thought of his length splitting you in half.

“What, you see a nice dick and turn all dumb and drooly?” He pumps his cock with his fist right in front of your face.

You crawl a bit closer to him and slap his hand away to wrap your lips around the fat tip, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth. 

“You’re so much more eager than I thought, sweetheart,” Mingyu groans and puts his hand deep in your hair, “Would you suck Wonwoo’s cock like that too, darling?”

“I’d suck it harder,” you take out his cock and stroke it with your hand, a shit-eating grin on your face, “Does that answer your question?”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue and slaps your cheek with his cock twice before he’s pushing you on your back again.

“Well too bad he’s not here now.” He opens one of the nightstand drawers and pulls out a condom, ripping the packaging with his teeth to roll the latex over his cock.

He climbs on the bed again and throws your legs on his shoulders, tapping his dick on your slicked cunt a few times.

“I’ll just fuck you to oblivion instead.”

“Now I know why everyone calls you an overgrown puppy,” you giggle, “You’re all bark and no bite, Gyu.”

Your lips morph into an ‘O’ shape when Mingyu slams his dick inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“I’ve had enough of you running your mouth all evening,” he grits his teeth and tugs your bra down, letting your breasts out of the lace, “For someone who was so shocked to find out that people fuck in this place, you’re awfully bratty.”

“Then fuck the attitude out of me, big guy,” you taunt him, “Just like you’ve been boasting all evening.”

“With pleasure.”

Mingyu folds you in half and starts drilling his cock in your pussy with a newfound hunger, all the exhaustion he had accumulated from the flight gone in the blink of an eye.

“Your pussy is so fucking good, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” He moans and gropes your tits, his big hands squeezing the soft flesh.

“Your cock fucks me so good, Gyu, you’re so good to me, fuck!” You grip the sheets, nails digging into the silk.

“Oh yeah? Dick so good you’re not thinking about that bias of yours anymore?”

Your pussy clenches around his shaft, Mingyu’s eyes turning hooded.

"You greedy little slut," he juts his hips a bit more forcefully, "You would love to fuck Wonwoo, wouldn't you?"

Yes, you definitely would - you can't even bring yourself to count the times you've thirsted over the cat-like man in glasses for the most dumb reasons.

"Of course a pretty slut like you cannot be satisfied with one dick," he speeds up his thrusts, "Need something to fill your bratty mouth with, right?"

"F-Fuck, yes!" You cry out, thighs starting to tense on his shoulders.

"Maybe I should take a picture of you sucking my dick like a lolly and send it to hyung," he taunts you, "Show him what his fans are actually doing in their free time."

"Shit, Gyu!" You scream Mingyu's name and your back arches off the mattress as you cum around his cock, giving him the green light to fuck you through your orgasm, while he chases his own.

It doesn't take him long to tip off the edge and reach his own climax, filling up the condom with his cum. He quickly discards the soiled latex in the trash bin under the nightstand and lays right next to you, a wicked smile playing on his face.

"Why are you smiling like th- Oof!" You gasp when he pulls you flush to his chest and throws your leg over his hip, burying two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

He rapidly fucks his digits in your spent hole as he grinds his palm on your clit, trying to force one more orgasm out of your body.

And he does.

He watches your body shake harder than before and you squirt all over his hand and thighs, eyes nearly rolling at the back of your skull from the intensity of your orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers and licks them clean with his mouth, letting them go with a lewd sound. 

"W-What….was that for?" You pant.

"For good measure." He grins.

"....Manwhore." You curse under your breath and Mingyu lands a smack on your pussy, making you yelp from the impact.

"Says the girl who wants to fuck two idols of the same group."

"And what about it?! A girl can always 

dream!" You protest.

"Some dreams can become a reality," he says, "That is, if you ask the right people."

"You're not actually thinking of sending him a post-sex image, are you?!"

"Are you crazy? Of course not, that NDA has my signature too, missy," he deadpans, "I just said that to rile you up."

"Of course you did." You roll your eyes at him.

"So….how long are you staying in Seoul?"

"A week," you reply, "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking…." Mingyu trails one finger on your collarbone.

"Yes?"

"If I convince that loser of a hyung I have as my roommate to get out of his gaming chair, maybe you'll get to live your dirty little fantasy."

"Are you- Is this a joke? Because if you're fucking with me, you better drop it."

"I'm 100% serious, love," he dips his finger on the valley of your breasts, "As long as everyone consents to it, I'm down to share. If you behave as well, of course."

You don't hesitate to nod affirmatively and climb on top of him, giving him a passionate kiss as a thank you.

"There's something you need to know though." 

"What is it, darling?"

"I have an IUD and I'm clean, got checked last month."

Mingyu blinks twice and purses his lips in a thin line.

"You better prepare yourself for next time, sweetheart," he grips your ass, "And don't worry about our little playdate getting out of here." He presses a kiss on your neck.

"What happens in Hotel Voluptas, stays in Hotel Voluptas."

#svthub #mingyu smut #svt mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #tw alcohol

[ivystoryweaver]

With You (part 1)

next part  ||  Fic Masterlist  ||  My Masterlist

Hi, everyone! This is not my first fic, but it is my first MK fic! I have been on Tumblr for ages, but never actually posted a fic here. (I know this account is newer. My much older one is my more personal blog). 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. 

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader. No references to reader’s gender. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 2890

Warnings: Angst, drinking, alcoholism, ummm cursing? Some kissing and stuff? No actual smut. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Marc was a little quiet lately. Strangely quiet, even for him. 

After finishing your shift at the hospital and stumbling home exhausted, you were eager to see your fiancé, maybe even talk to him to see what was going on. 

After a brief eternity riding up in the old lift in your building, you finally turned the key in the deadbolt and let yourself into your shared flat. As usual, one of the boys had left on a small lamp in the entry way, its incandescent glow the only illumination in the flat except for the florescent light of Steven’s fish tank.

Depositing your belongings on the entry table and kicking off your shoes, you quietly made your way toward the bedroom. But as you passed the darkened kitchen you heard a whispered, “Shit,” followed by the sound of a glass bottle landing on the countertop.

Marc.

He was drinking. Even with only the moon’s glow through the kitchen window, you could make out his preferred brand of whiskey.

In the span of a heartbeat, you took in the sight before you. Marc was facing away from you, as if he had been staring out the window, perhaps cursing the moon. Sweatpants hung low on his hips as if he’d made little effort to tie the drawstring. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt and the muscles of his back expanded with a labored breath.

Broad shoulders sagged as his fingers gripped the counter’s edge, his head bowed in what was likely shame. His curls tumbled forward, and you were certain that his long fingers had raked through them relentlessly in your absence, to be able to pull them from Marc’s preferred style.

God, he was beautiful like this, in the moonlight. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, and you wondered how he was able to bring this reaction out in you after four years as a couple. Still...you were worried.

“Marc?” You softly called, giving him a moment to hear your voice and acknowledge you before you attempted to touch him. Despite your loving and very physical relationship, he didn’t like to be caught off guard by anything - most especially not by touch.

He sighed so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“Marc--”

“I know,” he bit out, though his voice was soft, sounding insistent rather than angry. 

You paused, confused. “What?”

His hand reached for the whiskey bottle, which he lifted and quickly set back down on the counter, shoving it away from him. The liquid sloshed but didn’t spill - he had already taken care of too much of it himself. 

“I know,” he repeated, still refusing look at you, or even lift his head from its bowed position. 

Fairly certain you knew what he meant, you clarified, “You mean you know you’re drinking?” 

Huffing out a sigh, he pushed his fingers through his curls, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t want to face you like this. You had been through this - his drinking. It was bad at one point - drinking every night, passing out, getting into fights, but he worked hard and got sober. He worked so hard...

As far as you knew, this was his first drink in two years. 

You were devastated on his behalf, but more than anything you wondered what could have caused him to pick up a bottle.

Finally, he turned his head to the side, granting you the view of his profile. “Yeah, I am. So let’s hear it.”

He was waiting for something from you. A lecture? Disbelief, anger, something. 

Pausing to calm your racing thoughts, you tried to figure out how to keep from running to him, grabbing him, overwhelming him, smothering him with love and concern. 

Impatient, he turned all the way around, leaning against the countertop to glare at you. You could barely see his face in the darkness, but you could imagine the grumpy glower he wore. 

“Well?” He asked, sounding more defeated than annoyed.

Squeezing your fists together, you exhaled quietly. Whatever anger or disappointment he was expecting from you tonight, it just wasn’t there. All you felt was overwhelming compassion and deep concern. What had hurt your Marc so deeply? Who were you going to have to tear apart? 

Easing toward him, you moved carefully, slowly, angling your body toward his side, ending up beside him. Placing one hand gently on his forearm, you felt it flex in nervous anticipation. He stopped breathing as your eyes flicked up to his. 

“Are you hurt, Marc?” You softly inquired, not even daring to squeeze or rub his warm flesh. 

Exhaling shakily, he quickly shook his head.

You rubbed your thumb across his arm, feather soft, that small point of contact searing your skin with yearning for him. “Is this okay, sweetheart?”

His chest rose with a pained breath. With a slight nod, his chin dropped down to his chest, unable to look at you anymore.

You dared to rub and down his arm then. Small strokes of your fingertips dancing on his flesh, soothing, not demanding. “Missed you today,” you said sweetly, momentarily ignoring what was clearly agitating him the most - what you would think of him breaking his two-year sobriety. 

Truthfully, your concern was growing with every passing moment. But you knew Marc as well as you knew yourself. You could get nowhere with him if he didn’t feel safe. And was so safe with you. You would burn worlds down for this man you were about to marry. 

“What are you doing?” he harshly whispered, recoiling only a fraction from your touch. “I almost finished the bottle.” A confession of sorts. 

Gently giving his arm a final squeeze, you let go, after laying a soft kiss to his bare shoulder. Reaching for the bottle, you shocked the hell out of your fiancé by taking a swig, wincing as the strong liquid burned your throat. 

“Damn,” you gasped, immediately taking another drink. “You didn’t save much for me.” Tipping the bottle again, you never got to your third swig before Marc ripped it from your grasp.

“What the hell are you doing? Don’t drink that shit.” He flung the bottle into the sink, where it crashed and broke. It definitely sounded more dramatic than it looked - he hadn’t tossed it very hard, but you still involuntarily flinched, which, of course, worried and upset Marc. 

“Shit, baby...I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to...I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s okay, Marc, I’m okay,” you quickly assured him, moving fully into his personal space for the first time all evening. You decided to move and speak with confidence from here on out. He needed to know where you stood. Placing your palms soothingly on his broad, bare chest, you felt his thundering heart. 

“Hey,” you whispered, gazing lovingly up into his frantic eyes. Repeating his name, you waited for him to look down at you, into your eyes, which he finally, reluctantly did. 

“I’m sorry,” you softly soothed, reaching up to trace his jaw line with your fingertips. “I didn’t mean to upset you by having a drink.”

“Why?” he harshly whispered. “I don’t want you drinking that.”

You made a face, “Baby, you were drinking that.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He jerked away from your touch. “So just say what you’re going to say. Just fucking say it.”

So he was waiting on a lecture. Or a fight maybe. 

“Is there any more?” you asked as he began to pace the kitchen floor. He looked a bit like a caged animal - contained but alert. 

He paused for a moment, almost snarling at you, but seeing your innocent, truly curious expression, he quickly decided that maybe you were really curious and not mocking him. 

“Steven’s bookshelf,” he answered candidly. “The one by the closet - you know, the ones he never reads.”

You nodded slowly, pushing off the counter to walk that way. “Clever,” you replied. Marc was hot on your heels but said nothing else until you retrieved a second bottle of whiskey - same brand - and walked it back to the kitchen.

He assumed you would open the cap and pour it down the drain. He actually wanted you to. But all you did after twisting off the cap was take another long, burning swig. 

Before he could begin to react, you asked, “Are you going to have anymore to drink tonight?”

Shaking his head in disbelief, he grabbed the bottle from your hand and finished what he thought you had started. The amber liquid tumbled from the bottle, splashing in the sink and filling the air with its stale tang. 

“What is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be the one doing this?” He huffed, dropping the empty bottle to join the first, broken one. 

“No, I absolutely should not be the one doing this, Marc,” you evenly responded. “I should not be pouring out the alcohol that you brought into our home. That is not my job.”

“Ah, there it is,” he snapped, his fists clenching as he leaned toward you, ready for a (verbal) fight. “Let’s hear it, then. Tell me how much I fucked up.”

“No.” Your voice was calm and you took a confident but small step backward. It was not a step of fear, but simply a way to diffuse the fight he was apparently expecting. 

“Marc, you’re a grown man. I’m not going to scold you, or lecture you, or tell you what to do. And despite what you may have been expecting, I’m not going to fight with you. If you want to drink, you’re going to drink. There is nothing I can do or say to change that.”

He looked stricken. Were you giving up on him? Tears stung the corners of his eyes before he could stop them. He’d had a lot to drink and his head was starting to pound. If you weren’t even putting up a fight, he must have really screwed everything up.

“A-are you...are you going to leave?” He whispered, physically withdrawing, turning to brace himself on the countertop once more.

“No, baby,” you answered him evenly, confidently. “I will never leave you. Not unless you made it impossible for me to live here with you. But you wouldn’t do that. Ever.” Easing over to him, you gently laid your cheek against his bare back. “I’m your partner. Not your boss, or a god or a parent. We’re a team. If you’re hurt, I’m there with you. I’m here, Marc. I’m here.”

“But I fucked up,” he shook his head sadly, his voice breaking. “All that work, all that fucking work to stay sober and I...”

“Exactly,” you agreed, carefully sliding your arms around him from behind, watching for any sign of physical discomfort from him. “You made a choice tonight and you hate the choice you made. That’s all that matters. You’re the person that you answer to. What you say goes. If you want to do better for someone, it has to be you. Not me, not Steven. You. Nothing I do will ever change that. Nothing I ever say will keep someone from doing what they decide to do.” 

You squeezed him gently. “So no fights from me. No lectures. But I’m not going to baby you either. If we’re going to drink, that’s the way it’s going to be. You and I can accept that reality or a different one. A reality with no drinking. That’s why I took the drink tonight. It’s just a drink. It’s not evil. It doesn’t have a motive. It’s just liquid in a bottle. It’s what you feel right before you drink -that’s what you have to ask yourself, Marc. What happened right then?”

His body seemed to crumple in on itself and he slowly sank down to the cool tile of the kitchen floor, his back pushing up against the cabinets as he shook his head sorrowfully.

“I can’t,” he gasped, tears trailing down his beautiful, moonlit cheeks. Shaking his head despondently, he turned his broken gaze to yours as you joined him on the floor. “I can’t...everything will change now, I just can’t.”

How could he do this to you...to Steven? He was trying so hard to hide everything he’d learned from Steven - that they were not alone in this body. That there was another. And Khonshu. Stupid, fucking Khonshu still had them enslaved. How could he ever tell the two of you? He had only known for two days and it was killing him inside.

“Come here, baby,” you soothed, reaching to pull him into your arms. Something had happened to set him off. You were certain of it now, more than before, and despite your calm demeanor, you were scared.

Your worries both eased and doubled when his body softened in your embrace and a British accent greeted your ears.

“Darling...what’s all this, then?” Steven asked you, nodding to his state of undress and your positions on the hard kitchen floor. 

“Steven,” you breathed, pulling him in for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he sweetly replied, granting you a soft kiss. “You alright, love?” 

Before you could answer, he shook his head slightly, “Bollocks, got a bit of a headache. Has Marc been drinking?”

The look on your face told him everything. 

“Bloody hell,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Two years sober right down the drain.”

Honestly, the sobriety thing, although crushing for him, was not the highest priority right now. Something was wrong with Marc. 

“Steven, let’s go to bed,” you decided, standing up and offering him your hands. 

Several minutes later, you and your fiancé slid under the covers, freshly washed up and ready for bed. 

“Steven,” you softly repeated his name, running your fingertips over his jaw line, the way you had done with Marc earlier. “I love you.”

“I quite love you too, darling,” he sweetly replied, kissing you softly. “Now tell me what’s the matter.”

“Do you...are you aware of anything going on with Marc?” you asked as Steven’s arms slid securely around you. “I think something’s wrong - like big picture wrong. We didn’t have a fight, like - I don’t think the problem is with us. Did something happen?”

Rubbing your back soothingly, Steven answered the best he could. “Not that I know of. Marc has honestly been a bit closed off with me lately. He is somewhat of a quiet bloke from time to time, but...yeah, I’m pretty certain he’s not been exactly an open book these last few days.”

“Okay,” you breathed, trying to think of what could have happened. “I’m sorry for putting you in the middle, my love. I try not to do that, but he was so upset tonight, and the drinking...”

“He..he didn’t upset you, darling? Or...hurt you? Did he?” His warm brown eyes darkened in concern.

“What, Steven, of course not,” you insisted, sitting up in bed. “You two would never hurt me, I know that.”

“Of course, love, but it’s just...” Steven hesitated, sitting up to join you. “Marc isn’t always at his best when he’s been drinking and...when I was holding you, just then, you--you’re trembling.”

It was true. You hadn’t realized it, but you were more upset than you’d realized. 

Letting out a sigh of defeat, you reached for your fiancé, whispering his name pleadingly as you climbed across his lap. Strong arms wrapped around your back, gripping you firmly as he pulled you into his chest. 

“I’ve got you,” he breathed against your lips. “It’s alright, love.”

Feeling so safe in his arms, against his strong body, you pressed your lips against his, your fingers caressing up his neck, into his curls. Your body melted into his embrace as you slid your tongue over his. Admittedly, you were feeling a little desperate and Steven was most likely intoxicated, but it was heavenly to feel him pulling you into him as your tongues tangled, hands grasping to get somehow closer.

You went on like that for a short while, rubbing your body against his, sucking on his tongue the way he loved, fingers threaded through his curls, which made him almost feral. Lurching forward, he tumbled on top of you, ignoring the pounding in his head and running his hands up your bare thighs. 

Despite how wonderful you felt, he paused, touching his forehead to yours for a moment of reprieve. 

“Steven, are you okay?” You managed to whisper between kisses, looping your arms around his neck. “Your head still hurting?” You asked because you could tell he was holding back a little. You had been kissing for a while and his hands had yet to travel underneath your underwear or (Marc’s) oversized white t-shirt. 

Easing his forehead down to your collarbone, Steven pressed a kiss to the soft skin of your chest. “Too much bloody whiskey,” he murmured. “Sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay. Feels good,” you breathed on his ear, which made him shiver.

“Didn’t mean to get too distracted, love,” he conceded, rolling off of you and rubbing his temples. “I know you’re worried about Marc. I am too, if I’m honest.”

There were no answers for you that night. Steven realized quickly that he needed some sleep and the two of you hoped that Marc might be there the next morning to give you some answers.

#moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #mcu #oscar issac fic

[goatakiart]

Xavier Fluff✨️

Love and Deepspace

It's late night, there's not even one sound to be heard of, only the sound of the keys as you pull them out of your purse, you're going back home from a long day at work-- however it's not your door that you unlock.

You decide to surprise Xavier tonight, you could say you even missed him.

When you peek in and look around for him, you find him fast asleep on the couch.

"As to be expected..." You think to yourself.

As you move closer, you notice his phone screen is open. Out of curiosity, you move closer to see what he was up to.

His message app is open, your own chat specifically. He seemed to have been waiting for a text from you. You move even closer in hopes of reading the unsent message that's sitting above the keyboard.

Suddenly, Xavier grabs your arm and pulls you close. You gasp shocked with no time to react. The only thing you can do is lose balance and fall on him. He immediately notices it's you, and he softens his grip quickly.

"Oh, it's you y/n..." he seems to try to caress your wrist, but he only swiftly moves his hand away when he notices his phone is open. In embarrassment, he takes it and turns off the screen.

"...I seem to have dozed off."

You're still standing on top of him, a silly smile is painted on your face as you observe his features, causing you to get lost in thought.

He blinks and tilts his head till he notices what is going on in your mind. He flashes a warm smile and softly pushes a strand of hair from your face, placing it behind your ear.

"if I didn't know you, I would think I have something on my face..."

He says teasingly but still keeps his calm demeanor.

His hand stays still on your face before he brushes your cheek softly. You don't lose the opportunity to place your own hand on top of his and bury your face in his palm as you speak.

"Oh? And what do you think now, if you know me so well?" You say, teasing him back, eager to hear his answer.

"Let me think..."

Xavier slowly moves and wraps his arms around you, making you rest on him on the couch as you're both still sitting. His moves are elegant and caring, soft and delicate. He takes the blanket that was around him and wraps it around you both.

"I think you missed me enough to invade my home."

He says in a low whisper, the warm smile never leaving his face.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden exclamation, and you looked away to avoid him, even tho you liked this "confrontation."

He reaches out his hand, positioning it on your cheek once again, turning your face to look at him directly in the eyes.

"All the stars shone under the moon's gaze, nevertheless they are indeed all are cast aside at the sight of Venus and Jupiter. Awaiting for the dark veil of the night to tumble above every corner, just to see them again."

It's hard to understand his words sometimes, even when he's in the silliest mood or the most romantic one, he's still so ethereal, his eyes are like a starry night, he definitely has affected you with his metaphors.

"So, that means you missed me too?"

He raises his shoulders and snickers.

"You admit you missed me?"

He tightens his embrace around you and lays his head on your shoulder.

He's avoiding the question on purpose, he's always the one to avoid difficult situations.

You wrap your arms around his head and mess with his hair.

"I missed you as much as you missed me, Mister."

Xavier, however,  seems to be getting comfortable, as he's burying his face on to your neck, he begins to be unresponsive. You poke him, to wake him up, and make him speak up. He instead lays down, his weight pushes you to lay on the couch with him, his arms still wrapping you. He still has eyes closed and is about to sleep. One of his hands trails off from your back to your waist and finds its way to your own hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours.

You let out a sigh and you close your eyes, slowly you're beginning to fall asleep.

Many minutes pass, and Xavier must have thought you had already fallen asleep.

"I missed you too." He says. You can't help but smile. You look up and notice he's already looking down at you. He gets a little startled seeing you are still awake.

"Xavier."

"Yes?"

The smile on your face grows bigger.

"I love you." You say, without hesitating one second.

He gasps at the sound of your words and seems nervous. You notice a tint of pink on his cheeks. There's a small awkward pause, which, for a moment, makes you feel scared you ruined the moment. But he composes himself fast enough, and finally, he takes a deep breath and smiles back.

"I love you too, Y/N." Then he goes ahead and kisses your forehead lovingly before he lays his chin on your head. You hold him tighter, and he returns the gesture, as if you're both scared of losing each other.

You cuddle tightly and slowly fall asleep with the hopes you'll meet in your dreams, too.

#xavier #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x reader #xavier fanfic #xavier fanart #love and deepspace fanart #xavier x reader

[deejadabbles]

Ruin (Rex x Fem!Reader) Smut

Summary: Rex proves why clones are superior to natborns. A.N: I....I don't know what to say for myself. I woke up horny and key smashed this filth onto my laptop. Word Count: 1,085 Warnings: Rough sex (with aftercare), marking, dirty talk, competency kink, a hint of choking, mentions of clone bigotry.

Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

You had no idea what had gotten into Rex that night, but whatever it was, you were reaping the best benefits from it.

His hands had a bruising grip on your wrists as they pinned you to the bed, his hip pounding relentlessly into you as he took you from behind, growling and grunting lowly in your ear. His cock was stretching you with every thrust, barely prepared to take him when he threw you on the bed. Getting so wet from the way he pulled your clothes off was your only saving grace as he practically impaled you.

Rex must have decided that you were too quiet for him, because without warning his lips moved from your ear, darting down to give your shoulder a rough bite. Something just short of a scream ripped from your throat as you threw your head back- or at least, as much as you could, with him pinning you down with his whole body.

“That’s it,” he growled, tongue darting out to soothe the mark he left, “moan and scream as loud as you want. Let everyone hear you. Kark, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You get off letting everyone know that you’re in here, getting fucked by a clone.”

The way he hissed out the word startled you, even in the heat of the moment. So, that’s what got into him. You tried to lean back, press your lips to his ear or temple or any part of him you could reach as he grazed his teeth over more of your skin.

“I'm getting fucked by a man, not just a clon- AH!” 

Another guttural sound left you when he reangled his hips, fucking even deeper as he bit you again. “It’s alright, mesh’la,” he hummed against your skin, “I know what they think of us, what they think of me.” Another growl as he released his death grip on your wrist and instead wrapped his large hand around your throat. “Thinking we’re beneath them, like kriffing droids.” He gave just the lightest squeeze, fingers playing at your neck, “But you know different, don’t you, darling? You ever had a natborn fuck you like this? Fuck you this good?”

You couldn’t stand it, between his hips pounding against your ass, his hands and teeth marking you up, and those filthy words, you were a mess, eyes rolling back, mouth agape, body like jelly under him. All you could manage was an urgent nod and a whimper of agreement.

Rex grunted his disapproval, before dragging his hand down your body and shoving it between the bed and your cunt. He laid out his rough fingers right where he was grinding you into the mattress, curling the digits just right so your clit rubbed hard against them with every thrust of his bruising hips.

“Say it,” he growled, “tell me why you let this clone fuck you.”

You made sure your moan of a curse was loud as your body pulsed with pleasure under him. Kriff, you were close, so close! Somehow, you found your voice, even if it was a raw, barely coherent mess. “B-best I’ve ever had! No one ever fu-fucked me so good, no one but you, Rex!”

That got his approval, he hummed, nuzzling you just below your ear, his hips and hands never letting up. “That’s right, mesh’la, ruined you, haven’t I? Ruined you for any other man.”

“Yes- yes! Fuck, Rex, want you to ruin me over ‘n over.”

You could feel his cock twitch at that, the hand still pinning your wrist tightening possessively. His lips returned to your ear and right when his fingers started to work in tandem with his thrusts, he purred, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your pleasure reached its peak suddenly and blind hot, so euphoric that you weren’t even sure what you sounded like when it happened. It must have been music to his ears, though, because he let out a distracted curse as he slid the hand from your clit to grip your hip. Just like everything else about him tonight, it was hard and rough, holding you in place as Rex readjusted himself again, using your abused cunt to chase his own end.

It didn’t take him long and you cried out in overstimulated bliss as you felt him spill deep inside you, filling you up, making you his yet again. Just like all the marks he left that night. You couldn’t help but whimper when he pulled out of you, feeling his cum dripping on your ass and thighs. 

Neither of you were able to breathe right after that, and Rex collapsed half on the bed, half over you and he tried to get his ragged breathing under control. You were laying there, spent, eyes closed and uncaring of the mess your open mouth and dripping pussy were making of the sheets.

Still, when Rex, still breathing hard, started laying tender kisses over your hair, you shuddered with delight. He moved your body this way and that until he was under you with your head to his chest. Next, he took your wrist and brought it to his mouth, soft lips pressing gently to where he had held you so tightly.

“I- I left bruises, didn’t I?” he mumbled, and the shame underlying his tone made you look up, “ ‘m sorry, cyare, I don’t know what got into me.”

His gentle hold made it easy for you to reach out and cup his cheek, thumb tracing over his lips. “Nothing to apologize for, Rex. I’m not complaining.”

You wanted to ask who and what was said about clones that got him so upset, mostly so you could give the di’kutla a piece of your mind, but you decided to save that for later. Right now, you just wanted to show Rex exactly how superior he was to anyone who thought less of him. With all the strength you could muster, you raised yourself up, straddling his hips and holding his face in both hands. You kissed him, pulling him against your still sore body and running your hands over his short hair.

He moaned into your mouth and this time his fingers gripped your hips gently, kneading the tender skin with care.

“Rex,” your tone was breathy when you pulled back, holding his gaze as you said, “I’m going to show you how thankful I am that you ruin me every night.”

Slowly, a smirk lifted his mouth, and that haze of possessive need darkened his eyes again.

.

Taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel

#nobody look at me #this is the second time my writing plans for the day have been hijacked by sexy rexy #idk what brought this on. besides wanting rex to pin me to the bed #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex x you #spicy lemons #sexy rexy #clone thirsting #deeja writes #rex smut #captain rex smut

[proxima-writes]

title: those vacation blues

[part two of karma is my boyfriend's dad]

pairing: boyfriend's dad!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit 18+ MDNI

word count: 2k

summary:

It's the last day of vacation and Joel intends to make it count.

dear reader:

back by popular demand, boyfriend's dad!joel. inspired by this anon. banners below by @saradika

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no use of y/n, alternate universe - boyfriend’s dad, age difference (21F and 56M), power imbalance dynamics, infidelity, asshole boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, almost getting caught, unprotected p in v, shower sex, joel miller having feelings. let me know if there are any that i've missed!

Joel has been dreading the last night of this vacation. He’s been sneaking around with you the last two days, fucking you at every opportunity and in every conceivable way. Sean continues to make the rare appearance before disappearing off to the bars and clubs to party, leaving Joel plenty of time to spend with you before the vacation bubble bursts and you return home and inevitably walk out of his life.

He’s supposed to be packing and getting an early night’s sleep since the flight back to Texas is another 4 am wake-up call, but all he can think about is you. He thinks about the squeeze of your thighs around his hips, the warmth of your pussy or mouth wrapped around his cock, the sweet way your voice sounds panting, moaning, or crying out his name. He’s shamefully hard as he tries to focus on folding his clothes and fitting everything back into his carry on bag with the addition of some souvenir cups he’s collected going to restaurants with you.

After adjusting himself in his shorts for a third time, he can’t take it anymore. He has to taste you, has to feel you one more time.

Joel grabs the extra key to your room he had made and crosses the hall, knocking on your door. If Sean answers, he figures he can spin some lie about just wanting to make sure you’re both packed. But if you answer, he’s going to fuck you senseless.

After a moment of no response to his knock, he lets himself in with the key. He can hear the shower running from the bathroom and the sound of your voice singing a song out of tune.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar! Oh!”

Joel smiles, stripping himself of his shirt and shorts and quietly entering the bathroom.

“I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you!”

He wonders if there’s a reason you’re singing that specific song. Is that how you feel about him?

A man can only hope.

Joel slides the curtain aside and your head whips toward him, eyes wide with surprise that morphs quickly into happiness, your lips stretching into a matching grin.

“Well, hello,” you say, stepping back to give him room to join you. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you,” he murmurs, sliding his hands over your wet body, mapping the now familiar curves until he reaches your ass, his fingers digging into your cheeks and pulling you close. He flexes his hips, his hard cock dragging over the soft skin of your tummy.

You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around him, pumping him slowly. Joel tilts his head to capture your lips with his in kiss that makes his blood run hot and his pulse beat frantically. A traitorous part his mind tells him that this is it, this is the last moment he’ll get with you.

He better make it count.

He pulls back, reaching up for the detachable shower head he’s grateful the resort has in all of its bathrooms. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

As you turn, Joel adjusts the settings on the shower head to the massage function, a steady jet of water hitting the opposite wall. Your back is pressed to his chest and you lean your head back on his shoulder, grinding your ass against his cock and making him groan.

“Behave,” he warns. “Put your foot up on that ledge.”

________

Your heart feels like it’s going to break free from your chest as you lift your leg and rest your foot on the edge of the tub, Joel’s solid body at your back has a shiver running down your spine despite the heat of the water clinging to your skin.

One of Joel’s broad hands palms your breast, squeezing roughly and pinching your nipple until you gasp. He runs the stream up your leg, the water pressure strong but not unbearable.

“I’m gonna get you nice n’ wet,” he says, the water creeping closer to your sex, “And then I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin this little pussy.”

He holds the shower head a few inches away, aiming the fierce jet of water just above your clit so that the pulse of water brings you pleasure without being too overwhelming.

“That feel good, baby?” Joel asks, voice a low rumble next to your ear. You nod your head quickly, chest heaving with labored breaths as water of all things has to you barreling towards release so quickly it’s making your head spin.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you sob, writhing against him as the water continues to pound against your clit. “Joel, I’m gonna cum!”

Your muscles go tense as your release hits you like a strike of lightning, every nerve lighting up deliciously. Joel pulls the water away slowly as your orgasm subsides, setting it back in its cradle while you catch your breath. He’s supporting your body with a strong arm wrapped around your middle, his other hand coming up to your cheek to turn your face so that he can give you a sweet kiss.

“Bend forward for me, put your hands on the wall,” he says. You follow his instruction, your back arched and hips pushed back. He runs his hands over your ass, the soft caress almost reverent but quickly turning dirty as he grips each cheek and spreads them. “Wish I could’a had you here, too,” he says, rubbing a quick circle over the pucker of your ass.

Your face feels hot from the foreign but not unpleasant sensation. “There’s always later,” you reply.

Joel clears his throat, his hands leaving your abruptly and for a moment you wonder if you said something wrong, like you weren’t supposed to suggest that something could happen between the two of you beyond the days spent together in Florida, but just as quickly you feel the thick head of his cock pressing to your entrance, the tip breaching you with ease as you gasp.

He grips your hips tightly, the spots beneath his fingertips aching from his strength as he slips his full length into your tight heat with a groan. He holds himself still, hips pressed to your ass for a long moment before he draws back, the head of his cock dragging across a spot inside of you that makes fireworks burst across your vision.

“Christ, sweetheart,” Joel groans. He thrusts his hips sharply and you cry out, flexing onto the tips of your toes at the sudden rush of pleasure. “How am I supposed to go back home and pretend I’ve never felt heaven like this?”

You moan, your cunt pulsing around him as he pounds into you. The water is starting to go cold but you hardly care with how hot your blood is running.

Joel brings a hand to your clit, rough fingers rubbing quick circles on the over sensitive bundle of nerves, his pace growing more frantic as he chases his own release.

“Give me one more,” he growls, “Be a good girl, baby, cum around my cock one more time.”

Your eyes roll back as you do just as he commands, the combination of his hard thrusts and his quick fingers, along with his dirty words, making you break for a second time. He groans, pulling out to finish over the curve of your ass, warm cum painting your skin before being washed away by the lukewarm water.

Joel urges you to turn around, pulling you close and kissing you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours in a way that feels like a goodbye you’re not ready to say. You pull back and search his face, finding a furrowed brow and a clenched jaw that makes your chest go tight.

“Joel—“

The door opens, uncoordinated steps entering the bathroom, followed by a loud, “Babyyyyy! I need to shower.”

“I’m almost done! Can you wait in the room, you’re letting out all the warm air!”

Sean leaves the bathroom with a mumbled curse, slamming the door shut behind him. Joel takes his first breath since the door opened.

“What the fuck do I do?” He hisses.

“Give him three minutes, he’s going to pass out,” you say confidently.

“How do you know?” He asks. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Trust me, Joel, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

He huffs in exasperation but remains still and quiet as you count down in your head to the window of opportunity to get Joel back to his room. You exit the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body.

“Wait here,” you instruct Joel before carefully opening the bathroom door and peeking through the crack.

Sean is lying face down on one of the beds, messy brown hair the only thing you can see with his face turned away from you. One leg dangles over the edge of the bed and his chest rises and falls with even breaths, punctuated by loud snores. Turning back to Joel, you hold a towel out to him.

“Like clockwork,” you whisper smugly. His lips pinch together like he’s fighting a laugh while he wraps the towels around his waist. You open the door and he dashes across the room quickly, hand gripping the towel for dear life.

You spot his discarded clothing on the floor and gather it in your arms and rush after him, catching him as he opens the door to the hall.

“Here,” you whisper, handing over the bundle of clothes. You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and tug his face to yours for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Joel looks like he wants to say something, mouth opening like a reply is on the tip of his tongue, but something passes over him and a wall goes up instead, words dead on arrival. Instead, you receive a curt nod before he crosses the hall and disappears into his room.

________

It’s just after 7 a.m. when Joel pulls his truck up to the curb outside of your apartment. Sean is once again asleep in the back seat while you’ve been riding shotgun in tense silence, your hands twisting in your lap. Joel wants to say something, wants to ask what you’re thinking and whether this is the end of the line for him, but he can’t. He can’t find the words, he can’t find the courage, he just…can’t.

When you open the door, Sean startles awake, looking around briefly in confusion before realizing he’s not at home. “You’re not comin’ back to the house, babe?”

“No, Sean, it’s over,” you say with a sigh.

“What do you mean?” His son replies. You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I mean, I’m done faking orgasms and pretending that I don’t know you’ve been cheating on me.” You slam the door shut with finality and Sean slumps back in the seat with a pout.

Joel exits the truck and helps you with your bag, carrying it up to your door. When you unlock your apartment and cross the threshold, he remains rooted in the hall on the other side.

“Thank you for the trip, Mr. Miller,” you murmur. He hands you the suitcase, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“You’re welcome,” he says. “And…if you need anythin’…let me know, alright?”

You smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, your lips lingering there. “You’ll be the first person I call.”

Joel feels his heavy heart lighten the tiniest bit.

________

Three days later, a text comes through to Joel’s phone when he’s just getting home from work.

It’s a photo of a new shower fixture with a detachable head, still in the box, set on a bathroom counter in front of a vanity mirror. In the reflection, he can see the curves of your body hugged by black panties and a matching bra.

Know anyone who could install this for me?

Joel grins.

Be right there, sweetheart.

Joel Miller masterlist.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #boyfriend's dad!joel miller #bfd!joel #tw age gap #tw age difference #cw age gap #cw age difference

[pearldog30]

The ghosts dick sizes and more....

Hesh, Logan, Keegan.

I don't even know why I came to this point but here we are.... Enjoy bb gorls🖤😙

Other words 👉 Master list

Warnings| obviously the talk of the boys dicks, and a little nsfw.

Hesh🌴

Hesh is 5.8in (14.732cm) curves a little to the left, he's cut, and very VERY thick especially the tip just know he'll be hitting that perfect spot every time with how thick he is, his tip is the same color as his lips maybe a little lighter while the rest of him is a beautifully, flush dark pink, his balls are pretty average for his size (although they kind of look small from how THICK his cock is) they hanging pretty low, he's unshaved but he'll trim it for you (if that's what you prefer).

Now here's a little spicy part for you guys!

Hesh is a hand thruster... He fucks his hand hard and fast anytime he jacks off, he has violated his hands more than you ever could. he's a quieter groaner/moaner he just naturally is without even trying, he always tries to stay quiet but it slips out of him and he doesn't even realizing it. (All tho somehow the wet sounds are always so loud coming from him)

Keegan☠️

Keegan is 6.2in (15.748cm) doesn't really curve he's also cut, he's about average size thickness maybe a little bigger but not by much, BUT! he's kind of veiny, His balls tho are kinda thick tho you can feel how hard they slap against you almost like his hand, he keeps it clean shaved for the most part, his color I feel like he's a little tan his dick doesn't got much color to it unless he's fuckin you REALLY hard then its a little red

Keegan likes it slow and steady he just likes taking his time and building the pressure (only when he's by himself though) Low key edges himself when he does jack off. This man DOES NOT make any sound whatsoever.... He could honestly jack himself off while sharing a room with others and no one would even know.

Logan😶‍🌫️

Now Logan.... He's also 6.2in (15.748cm) maybe a tad bit longer. He's NOWHERE! near as thick as the others but he is very veiny, (He only has length going for him honestly) he also curves slightly to the left as well, He is as well as his brother cut, now his balls hang lower then his brother (surprisingly) but they're a little smaller. And he's like Keegan he keeps it clean shaved ALL THE TIME, (even shaves his ass) now his color I don't know why but I feel like his tip is BRIGHT pink while the rest of it is more subtle kind of like his lips but a little darker.

Logan is a bit more tricky it depends on his mood, Sometimes he's fast and hard, and other times he likes to take his sweet old time... All tho he likes to move his hips and hand at the same time becoming perfectly in sync. (but he's not as violent to his hand as hesh is with his) he's whimper/whisperer all tho if he's REALLY feeling himself it can get a bit loud but he tones it down pretty quick.

And that's going to be the end for this. this literally just came to mind and I had it written out, so I figured you guys deserved it with a little spicy twist of course. I hope you're having a good day/night wherever you are! Reblogs, comments always appreciate it 🖤

Tag list| @alexkellersleg @macravishedbymactavish @walker33961 (if you would like to be added just message with your name)

#cod #ghost cod #call of duty keegan #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ #logan walker ghost #logan walker headcanons #logan walker #the ghosts #ghosts #hesh #david walker #david hesh walker #head cannon #hesh walker #call of duty headcanons #call of duty ghosts #keegan russ headcanons #i have a problem #THIS SHOULDN'T HAVE TOOK ME 5 MINUTES TO DO #ghosts headcanons

[37-drc89]

smoke signals; bangchan

❁ where our love is locked.

trope: exes to lovers (kinda?)

genre: angsty angst but good ending.

summary: it eventually gets to chan, he has to let you go.

warnings: none.

word count: 2,2k.

masterlist

note: angsty season started for me :') as always, feedback highly appreciated!

The day he lost you.

The last view he gets of you is your red, puffed up face turning away from him, your figure completely disappearing behind the door. Loud thud of them shutting closed followed by even louder silence. Chan stands there, feet frozen to the floor, no matter how hard he tries to get out of its grip, he can't move. He knows that's how it's supposed to be. He doesn't take his eyes off the door hoping that maybe, just maybe they will open once again, you standing there coming in to hug him so tight, the first thing you always do when you see him. Although he's fully aware that this won't happen. He doesn't deserve your touch, your hugs, your kisses, he doesn't deserve you. Chan has to let you go.

Turning around he sees nothing but signs of you, being there just a few minutes ago. Unfinished cup of pomegranate flavoured tea resting on the table, now cold, TV muted but still playing your favourite show on the screen, pair of keys to your shared apartment splashed on the locker. You didn't take them with you like a sign that you never wish to come back there.

You have every right to do that, he thinks. Chan doesn't recall a situation when he messed up as badly as he did that day. He let you down, he let you feel unwanted, he let you leave your home, not even trying to stop you.

Though, it doesn't feel like he could call it home anymore. It's like you took this title away from this place, leaving only cold breeze behind. Chan's back is shivering at the unpleasant feeling, goosebumps creeping its way onto his arms and neck, where is your warmth now, when he needs it most?

Where are you now? Where did you go? Who is wiping your tears away off your cheeks, when it should be him?

Chan knows you, he knows you could never blame him even if it's him shattering your poor aching heart apart. You've always been so good to him like that, yet he's been so awful to you, the person he promised his whole life to, the person he personally laid his heart to, the person that was supposed to be meant for him. His mind is full of you, your watery voice replaying in his head like a broken record, the only thing he sees closing his eyes is your face painted with sorrow and guilt, you reaching out for his hand to lock it with yours, but he pulls it away, stepping back. Touching you would feel like a knife shoved down into his heart at that moment. That was probably the most selfish thing Chan has ever done in his entire life.

I know I'm a freak Ripped the Band-Aid, broke the peace Took the lock but lost the key.

The day after.

Chan's heart has never felt emptier than the morning he woke up, your side of bed unoccupied. He put your pillows and covers just how you like it, for you, as if you would join him the next day. But they stayed untouched. No show playing from the livingroom, the usual sound of coffee pot working is now silent, no music is heard, like you've always liked to do on your free days, dancing to your favourite songs while waiting for your boyfriend to wake up. Chan would stand by the door's frame, leaning against it, watching you enjoy yourself until you finally notice him, bright, heartwarming smile plastering on your face immediately. You never got mad at him for observing you silently, he's seen every side of you at this point. Even if you weren't the best dancer in the world, it's your private performances he would choose to watch for the rest of his life.

Now he leans against the same door frame as always yet his eyes have nothing to look at. His brain tries to visualise your silhouette shuffling around the room, spinning around but it's like he already forgot the view.

Chan sits at his side of the table, leaving yours empty. He doesn't make any efforts trying to eat something, lump in his throat present since yesterday's evening succesfully making him lose appetite.

You probably didn't get any sleep tonight. Chan knows you like the back of his hand, he knows your body is physically unable to relax if your mind is occupied with something stressful. Does the person you're with right now knows that? Do they treat you right? Do they know that the only things helping you calm down are either your favourite show or forehead smooches? Of course they don't. Chan is the only person you've ever fully exposed yourself to, the only person that has seen your broken state. He knows you would rather throw yourself off a cliff than face him. But being unaware of what's happening to you right now makes his eyes sting with unreleased tears and hands tremble, squeezing his shirt in the tightest grip his muscles could endure. He wants to text you, he wants to call you, ask where you are, run to you, drop to his knees and apologize, begging for your forgiveness, he wants to hold you until it's okay, he wants you to be okay again.

Feeling trapped in the closed space where all your belongings were, Chan goes out, not caring to put on any jacket nor scarf, scared that he'll accidentially ruin something you left after yourself, even if it's just a coat hanging in the front hall. His goal is clear, however he's not rushing anywhere, knowing he doesn't really have anything to come back to, no one's waiting for him anymore. Once his eyes reach the long, wide bridge breath hitches in his throat. Slowly stepping on it, sudden cold wind hits his face, making his whole body shiver, it's for the river flowing right under him. It feels almost impossible for the bridge not to collapse under the weight of all the padlocks attached to its railing and Chan can swear that he hears squeaking under his feet everytime he steps forward. His eyes seek for something familiar to him, probably hiding in the mass of locked love promises. Stopping in the midway he crouches down now facing the silver, shiny, perfectly looking padlock with your initials engraved beautifully in steel. That’s so cliché, some might think. But this has always been your little dream, the hopeless romantic in you yearning for locking love with your significant other for ages, so everyone can see how perfect you are with Chan. Now he’s staring at your promised love yet you are nowhere to be seen, the only thing surrounding him being fog, almost soaked in sorrow, and people walking by sending him apologetic glances, witnessing his shaking figure and head now hung down.

He remembers your excitement when he was attaching your padlock to the railing, happy with the placement. “You can see the city so clearly from here”, you once said. And you were right, the highest point of bridge allowed you to observe city life in detail, moving cars from afar, blinking lanterns, occasional neon lights and muffled music when a concert was happening nearby yet it could get so comfortably quiet in late evenings, not a single person disturbing such intimate moment. And of course, breathtaking view of the flowing river, reflecting moonlight, glowing brightly. At the bottom of it rests small, silver, heart shaped key. A key you threw away as far as you could that day, letting in run with the water as a symbol of your untouchable love. The conditions are perfect. Or, they could be.

Chan’s gaze lands at the padlock once again. His thumb smoothes over the flat surface and heart twists as he reads through a smaller text placed right below your initials. You said that this is your private promise, you chose this one together, wanting it to be your quote. Unable to stop tears now making their way to Chan’s frozen cheeks, he hides himself in his palm, just letting it out, holding onto your locker for dear life, like it would disappear in any moment.

“No turning back once we’re connected.”

Guess I set you free I hope you found a place to sleep I know you're bound to think of me

One month without you.

Past four weeks felt like a torture. Chan obviously had to work, his busy schedule treating him rougher than ever. Every task being harder to understand, coworkers words blurring out in his mind the second they were said. It wasn’t hard to tell that his mental health has dropped dramatically since a month ago, but Chan never liked involving private problems into his job. If anything, it kept his mind busy at least for these few hours, and maybe that’s why he tends to work at home ‘til past midnight, his body basically begging him to rest. It’s been fainting, blacking out not even being able to move properly but Chan never listened to it, knowing that if he lets himself off of his busy schedule, his thoughts will come back to you.

Speaking about you, you’ve never reached out to Chan. Not even a word, your activity status turned off since a month ago. He hasn’t seen you anywhere around the town as well. Of course, he tried visiting your favourite cafes, parks, tried waiting at your chosen benches just in case you walked by. He even spent a whole day waiting in front of the cinema on the day of your favourite movie’s continuation release date hoping you’ll come and see it, but you never showed up.

Chan forgot what your voice sounds like. Chan forgot where your significant moles were placed. And how your hair feels like when he smoothes it. He doesn’t even remember if you snore or not, or if you sweeten your tea. He’s been denying thinking about you so hard he forgot such basic things about you. Your scent already disappeared from all your clothes and pillows and Chan can’t recall that smell.

He wanders around the apartment with no purpose, just trying to keep his mind busy since all motivation and inspiration to work has been taken away from him, his thoughts going plenty different directions but not the ones he should actually focus on. Dead silence surrounds him, lights off, the only thing keeping the room somehow bright are last bits of sunset peeking through windows. Loud city life is coming to its end with sun disappearing, leaving Chan all to himself again.

Chan has already made peace with the fact that you're gone. Kind of. Everything around is trying to tell him not to stop hoping, that you'll come back as your clothes are still hidden in your part of wardrobe untouched, your book of poems still on the nightstand by your side of the bed and your keys still waiting for you on the table. But he stopped seeking for you in the crowd, waiting for you by your favourite places and buying your favourite snacks, knowing it's hopeless. He's now wrapped in his own shell, trying to get used to his own presence as it's the only thing he has left.

Until it's not. Until the quiet, unsure knocking spreads around the place, forming the pattern that you and him set up as your pattern, an announcement that you're home.

And Chan is by the door in a heartbeat. He doesn't have to check if it's you, he knows. Just before he got any time to think about what to say or what to do, his hand makes its own way to grab the handle and sway the door open. And it is you. You look so different yet still the same. So small under his shocked stare, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie, tired eyes on his. Your hair got just slightly longer, almost unnoticeable at first but Chan can always tell. Lips chapped, skin on your delicate hands picked up from all the stress you've been put in, visible signs of exhaustion painted all over your body.

"You're back," is the only thing he can get out of his chest, hands shaking behind the door just slightly, knees feeling like they could give up under his weight at any second. His eyes opened so wide they start to hurt but Chan doesn't dare to blink even once, scared that you'll be gone the next time he opens them.

"I'll always come back to you."

Your foot steps inside your home for the first time in a month and Chan swears that the dark atmosphere lightens up in a second, mind going empty but not in a bad way this time, like a breeze of fresh air on a sunny day, washing all his worries away. His body is meeting yours now, tangling in the most loving embrace he's ever been held in. Chan freezes for a moment, his brain calculating what exactly is happening before locking your tiny figure completely in between his arms, knocking every bit of air out of your lungs. He won't let you go. He won't let you go ever again. He will hold you forever now.

Because you're back.

You can come home to me when you're ready I left the gate unlocked for you

'Til then I'm sending out smoke signals Hoping I'll see yours too.

#stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz angst #bangchan angst #bangchan x reader #bangchan imagines #stray kids scenarios #bangchan skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #skz au #stray kids au #chan x reader #chan skz #Spotify

[capslocked]

UNRAVEL

male reader x kim jisoo

6k words

It’s all a mess honestly. You need her. She needs you. Just none of it in the same way.

-

It’s late as you arrive through the front door of your apartment. Just into the kind of hours that saw the lion’s share of your reckless decisions. So, it’s not unreasonable that you’d find her here now—sunk into the cushions of your sofa, finger against her temple, eyes halfway attending some novel she pulled off your bookcase—she more than knows what she’s doing.

Keys, wallet, phone all clamor and rattle as you set them down on the narrow table inside your foyer.

"I must’ve missed when we decided you could just let yourself in."

"Well if we’re splitting hairs," Jisoo says, waiting for the sound of a page to flip between her fingers, "You’re the one who gave me a spare key."

"If we’re splitting hairs Jisoo—it was for emergencies."

"And?"

"And." You shove your hands into your pockets.

She closes the book gently, no effort spent to bookmark or dog-ear a corner, and rests it on her thigh. "What if you’d gone missing? Drank yourself to death or got pushed in front of a bus. That’d be an emergency now wouldn’t it."

"So, just a hypothetical one then. Got it."

A humorless laugh and she smiles, the unmistakable glow in her eyes reeling you into her. "Don’t act too happy to see me."

You unsling your bag from your shoulder. "I don’t suppose you could’ve called?"

"Funny." Jisoo tilts her chin up at you. "I was about to say the same thing."

The step you take up into the living room as Jisoo rises from her seat is an apprehensive one. The lights are dimmed just barely bright enough to read by. And try as you may, Jisoo’s silhouette is the only thing your tired eyes can find a place to rest in. Maybe it’s how the moonlight catches her pale skin or the way she gets gently washed in those soft blues and greens of the city’s nighttime neon that pour diffuse through your windows. It’s almost necessary to remind yourself that it’s your apartment the two of you are standing in. Always there’s this precise, polished look about her—she owns every room she steps into.

Jisoo tucks a stubborn strand of midnight hair behind her ear before tapping a finger on the book she’d placed down on the coffee table. "It’s a good read by the way."

You glance at its cover and a derisive laugh blows out your nose. "So what was all that then—about not reading anything that isn’t at least a hundred years old—time tested you called it."

Jisoo hides a quiet smile as she lets her eyes wander a moment to her feet. "It’s close enough to a hundred isn’t it? Besides, it’s Gatsby, I can make an exception."

"Speaks to you, huh?"

"There’s just something so magical about the way he chases Daisy, ya know? That’s the kind of love I want. Waking up every morning knowing someone out there needs you."

"I’m willing to bet most readers end up sympathizing with Jay—all with the anguish of pursuing a woman who’s completely unobtainable?" You toss your work bag over the back of the sofa. "Just the kind of thing I’d hope mostly to avoid."

When Jisoo squares her shoulders to yours, you find yourself swallowing at an impossible thirst in your throat. Brains, beauty, wit. It’s probably the hundredth time she’s run through your thoughts today, and you can’t still figure out anything you don’t like about her, at least not on paper. So, you continue on, unfortunately thinking so very often about her—the way she smiles when you hold her, the way her eyes soften when her face is inches from yours, the way she runs her fingers through your hair—perfect. That’s how you’d describe her; if perfect could ever hope to be a pejorative.

"I think you worry too much." Her svelte figure finds itself easily in the space in front of yours and she wraps her fingers around the bottom of your necktie. She’s not even touching you and it’s making it hard to breathe. "Wouldn’t you say?"

Were you to flip through a calendar and search for the day you’d first undressed her in your apartment, you’d have to start by grabbing one more and then rifle back about eighteen months or so to put your finger on it. Only now should you have instead cut from those pages the time you’d actually spent together—most of it between the sheets mind you—you doubt it would manage to stitch together more than a few weeks. That was the nature of your relationship.

It’s not like we’re dating ya know.

Jisoo was always rather firm on this point.

And god, had you grown weary of hearing it. Usually a non-sequitur in its arrival, it would bounce and rattle around your thoughts for days, the warm voice behind it painfully clear and articulate. All because you’d made the mistake of bringing it up one time.

It really ought to be the kind of thing that closed more doors than it opened, answered more questions than it raised. The sentence probably deserved a period. Granted, there wasn’t yet an empty wine bottle in the sink nor were your clothes scattered about in different states of undress around the room, but you recognize the feeling—hanging on the end of a comma.

"I told you. I’m not going to do this anymore." You begin to twist your arms out from the sleeves of your coat. "I felt like I was pretty clear about it."

You were.

"What—in the hotel?" Jisoo sneaks behind you and helps coax the jacket off your shoulders, laughing to herself. "That conversation? The one you and I had just fifteen minutes before you pinned me against the wall, pulled my skirt up and—"

"Jisoo."

"Yeah. How presumptuous of me to assume you’d changed your mind," she adds, stressing a rasp in that ever-so-husked voice of hers. She ignores your protest, mostly because you let her; you always let her; she knows you always let her.

Quickly, her body against yours becomes a question, the racing of your heart its familiar answer.

"Jisoo," you repeat, finding it difficult to search for an authoritative voice all at the hand reaching under your chin, the heat of a short breath against your jaw, those parted lips dragging against your cheek. Dig your heels in. "I’m serious."

"Come to think of it—isn’t it a little late?" she asks, kissing you again just beyond the corner of your mouth. Her voice is cool, gentle breaths warm on your skin. "To just now be coming in the door? To be honest, I was starting to think you weren’t going to show at all."

"Well don’t act surprised." You gently pull her hand by the wrist away from your chest. "This is where I sleep."

Jisoo fixes on you, those sweeping eyelashes keeping a pair of narrowed eyes entirely unreadable. "But that’s not always true now is it? In fact, tonight you were counting on sleeping somewhere else, no?"

"How do you figure all that?"

"Because your clothes smell like tobacco and cheap beer." She raises an eyebrow and begins teasing the fabric of your shirt up from out of your pants. "Do you at least have a good excuse? Something creative maybe?"

"You really want a creative one?"

Her eyes become soft for a moment before narrowing again and her lips part into an all-too-alluring shape. "No, not particularly."

"Fine then. Work," you answer. "The team wanted to do a happy hour. Or maybe a few."

"At an izakaya?" Her face tilts until it finds a look of skepticism that matches the inquisitive tone in her voice.

"Something like that."

"Are you drunk?"

"Well I can’t say I’m sober."

"And Rosie," she says, blinking slowly, "you two met there or some place later?"

Chin up, you twist a confused eyebrow over the top of a dry laugh. "Now what might give you that impression?"

A smirk pulls up on the corner of Jisoo’s lip, and in one quick motion she pinches between her fingers at a long strand of golden blonde hair from just beneath your collar. "You’re still wearing her on your shirt, handsome."

A deep breath marks your response as you bite softly into the inside of your cheek.

"Thought so. Now, I’m not so brash as to ask for details, but considering you’re here, and she isn’t… I can’t imagine she invited you up for coffee after you kissed her outside her—"

"Has anyone ever told you you’re a little tightly wound?"

Jisoo takes a moment, slightly disarmed. "Once or twice."

"I’ve gotta ask—is this something you do just to get into bed with me?"

"Not at all." She smiles. Always it manages to distract from the way she inches ever closer to you. "Getting into bed with you is a completely separate affair."

Of course there’s some sort of game here. And one day you’ll learn how to win at it, or at least the rules, or even just how it’s scored (in spite of the fact Jisoo seems keen on changing all of it constantly). Too quickly however, before whatever prudent thoughts might rebuke them, it’s your hands that give you away. The thin fabric of her blouse beneath your fingers, you map the familiar shapes and curves where Jisoo’s waist meets her hips.

You shake your head across a series of breathy laughs. "And just what does that look like Jisoo?"

She leans into you, her palms sliding slowly up your chest. "From the top? Because right now, I’d guess we’re just getting into the real thick of it."

She stands close to you, her body now breaking all sorts of boundaries. The flavor of her perfume hits your nose and she’s resting a thigh against yours. Those parted lips hover just in front of your face—pink, narrow and wildly irresistible. Reach forward and you can simply take them.

You swallow again and your eyes shift away from hers before they might grab hold of you like quicksand. "You think I don’t know how it starts?"

"Oh?" She starts again at the skin on your neck, each kiss lingering longer and melting into your skin until finally she holds herself just over your lips. The breaths of her sultry voice crash onto your face, "Go on then, let’s hear it."

You straighten yourself out, earning you the fleeting remains of your personal space. "I mean it’s all more or less the same right? You sit down, we chat, nonsense mostly. I ask you how your trip was, you tell me about Paris, Milan, New York City or another."—always she was coming and going and coming and going—"I offer you something to drink, you ask if I have any wine, I bring out that bubbly stuff I keep buying even though you’re the only one who cares to drink it—"

"Ha. You know I had my suspicions." The soft, round tip of Jisoo’s nose drags across your cheek as she reaches up in her heels and finds her lips onto the bottom of your ear. In seconds, her voice fills your head completely. "And then what?"

Of course, your precocious hands can’t stop reaching further behind Jisoo—into the narrow ridge that runs up the center of her back, to the curve of her ass, the bottoms of her shorts inviting you to venture beneath them. You clear your throat before giving her the response she wants, "The cork comes off, clothes not too long after and tongues are in mouths I suppose."

Jisoo hangs off your shoulders with a hand slowly twisting up the length of your tie. A sculpted eyebrow dips and her expression nearly pouts. "Just mouths?"

"Well—"

"Maybe you ought to remind me—all those things your tongue can do."

It’s the same every time. Eighteen months of limbo, of seeing, not seeing, seeing, not seeing this girl who moved far faster than you could ever hope to keep up with. You’d promised yourself to have an ounce of resolve—something, anything, that even looked like resolve would do. Now of course, Jisoo was never going to outright put her lips to yours and kiss you. No, that’s something she leaves for you. Because she knows. When you’re in her hands like this? Inevitable.

If it had started slow, you missed it entirely.

The swell of her lower lip twitches, and you crash hard into her. The way her lips curve and arch—unbelievable, the pretty things—they remind you just how right it feels to take them in your own. The long lashes across her eyes tickle and tease you until you’re both staring into the stars behind your eyelids and struggling to breath steady. It’s entirely reckless, and absolutely dangerous, but somewhere in this tumultuous endeavor, you can only ever know the calming touch of her cool, wet lips against yours calling you home.

She’s small, her narrowed shoulders between your arms easy to hold yourself around. The staggered breaths moving haphazard through her chest push against you as she melts into your embrace.

You hold her tight, just underneath where her shoulder blades rise from the middle of her back, pressing further and pulling her into you until she gasps into your kiss. Before you realize it, you’ve got her bent back at the knees, holding on tightly to you with those dainty arms wrapped around your neck as you chase deeper into her lips.

When you’d heard she was in town, again, from a fashion show or a film festival (honestly it’s become impossible to remember), this was the exact scene you’d intended to avoid. Of all the girls you’ve never dated, Jisoo was intent on somehow being the most impossible to break up with.

"Mmnph…" Jisoo swallows down a choked breath and takes a beat to gather herself as a small distance comes to exist between your lips. You open your eyes and she’s staring right back into yours, these deep shimmering pools of dusty browns and grays. Her cheeks glow a faint pink. She bats her eyelashes. The corners of her eyes crease and she’s got this smile, it's always that smile, the rare kind you doubt you’ve stumbled upon more than a handful of times in your life. Effortless and delicate, it wraps you up into her. Even though its radiant and beaming for all to see, you swear when she’s here—like this—it only focuses on you with this ever-tempting prejudice in your favor.

She wets her lips and lets a sultry voice interrupt the moment, "Well, what are you going to do now?"

It’s been a long day. Your heart is tender, tired, sore. Fuck, It’s been a long eighteen months. Tugging at the shirt bunching in your fingertips, you answer her, simply taking her lips again.

She gasps when you push her into the wall and again when you place your knee between her thighs. There’s five buttons down the front of her blouse, two more at the waist of her shorts. Your hand feels slowly down the shape of her slim figure, and they all come undone while Jisoo’s tongue begins to slip gently between your lips.

She shifts her weight between her legs. And as if you’d cut some invisible thread holding the entire delicate assemblage together, those garments make their way to the floor. It’s instinctual the way your hands wrap around Jisoo, finding the perfect shape of her ass. Your fingers squeeze into soft skin and a hushed, accidental moan spills from her throat into yours.

A barely-there trail of spit between your mouths grows until it vanishes into the dark as you pull your face away from Jisoo—her eyes open slowly and rest weary in yours. She’s so beautiful it often takes the words right off your lips. You’d grown to know it impossible to ask promises or demands of her, but the way she holds you right now, her hands on your chest and back, her eyes soft and welcoming, it always manages to keep the embers of a fire—that cruel thing of hope—stoked and burning gently inside you.

She grabs gently at your wrist, guiding you sternly to where she really needs you—between her legs. Your fingertips brush the skin beneath her waist, atop her underwear and she places her words in your ear, "now come, feel me."

The loose fitting lace of her panties bunches in your palm the further you venture to reach into that smoldering warmth between her thighs. She grasps tight at your shoulders, lifts her chin and shudders as your finger drags across the pair of lips hidden beneath it all.

Again her voice rests atop a whisper, some silent curse or another.

Bathed in the soft light of the moon, Jisoo has this almost ethereal beauty about her. When she moves—and nearly imperceptible when she does—the dance of light and shadows scatters into these mesmerizing shapes across the pale skin of her body. The cast of those shadows, dark and unrelenting like India ink, tease her image through your head where your thoughts scramble to capture it however incomplete and grainy.

Sneaking under the loose elastic around her waist, knuckles tenting the hopeless fabric, you finally feel her. A wetness pools at her entrance. And just beyond it, the unmistakable heat that radiates from inside her. With a delicate touch, the rough pads of your fingers dip and play. Jisoo bites her lip at that chord you strike against her aching mound and a sharply sucked chestful of air tugs at the muscles in her stomach, scattering again those shadows the night had lain across it.

She swallows and closes her eyes. Lilting into that deepened register of her voice, Jisoo continues to reel you into her. "There you go. I love the way you touch me."

The strap of a black lace bra rolls between her fingertips and slides off her shoulder. She leans forward, pinching a kiss onto your neck as the garment begins to reveal more and more of that porcelain skin beneath her collarbones. The swelling roundness of her breast fills your hand and a stiff nipple finds its way amidst the grip of your thumb and finger.

Jisoo’s kisses again land in your ear. "C’mon. Don’t play."

It’s all a mess honestly. You need her. She needs you. Just none of it in the same way. So repeatedly, drawn inextricably and spiraling toward some spectacular cosmic catastrophe, the two of you find one another.

Seldom do you have even a moment to consider it—especially given all the ways Jisoo needs you. Sometimes she demands just the first two knuckles of a finger, sometimes your lips, the broad stroke of your tongue, occasionally it becomes the paradoxical freedom she finds in your hand around her throat. Even knowing few bounds, it’s impressive how simply she takes it all off you. Her fingers set tight into muscle behind your shoulder, and she moves, hips beginning to shuffle and rock against the forever reliable shape of your hand.

Her lips part and a moan punched through them sticks a humid breath against your face. "Ohhh my god—yes."

She knows it’s selfish, but she doesn’t care. Those words off her lips hit your ears and your heart drums at a dull beat from deep within your chest.

A yelp, and a sudden draw of cold air past her teeth, you find Jisoo quickly filling with want and need in your hands. Her nipple between your fingers becomes a second target of torment and her muscles jump as you find the aching bud atop her lips with a heavy touch of your thumb.

"This bad, huh?" you ask, feeling Jisoo’s body twist and unsettle in your grip. "Rough week?"

Jisoo’s lips break their kiss onto your neck, sighing. "No worse than usual."

"Yeah?" Your fingers dip again into that wet pool collecting into a sticky mess at her entrance. "Jisoo, you’re fucking soaked."

"Then maybe you ought to get down there and take care of it."

Just past where her aching folds surround her clit, you slip a finger into that tight warmth. Jisoo stifles a moan and you lift your chin, looking down your nose at the sight in front of you. "And how might I be able to do that?"

Struggling against your fingers, she answers, "If you’re—asking me to say it—you’re barking up the wrong—"

"Jisoo." Your shoulders drop and your head tilts into that angle—the one that pleads for a reasonable response—not that it ever has the efficacy it needs, no matter how meticulously practiced the look now is. "For christ’s sake, enough with that. You and I both know that you aren’t—"

"Your little slut?"

"Well—I was going to say a princess—but good on you to prove my point."

"You know it’s always my favorite part right?" Jisoo’s eyes narrow and a dangerous smile fills across her cheeks. "Watching you—pretend and toil like you don’t want to fuck me."

You can’t help but laugh, something about the way it cools your nerves. "Oh trust me—I know I shouldn’t—but I stopped pretending a long time ago."

"Well then, I suppose—if we’re not going to beat around the bush." Her voice in your ear becomes a command. "You can get on your knees. And give me your tongue."

Your hand out from between her legs, dragging a sheen of her wetness across her waist, you push her hip fast against the wall. A disgruntled whine leaves Jisoo’s lips, but the kiss you place on her neck is quick to pacify the complaint.

Slow, meticulous, every inch a purposeful destination, you dive. A trail from her neck to her collarbone, her soft skin meets your lips. The taste of it all—beyond her sweat, her scent—it quickly fills your thoughts, abstract but every bit as familiar. Your mouth latches around the tight bud atop her breast. The way your tongue and your teeth around it make her squirm sets a reminder in your head to visit the tender flesh again.

Now hovering beside her thighs, you chuckle at Jisoo’s hips beginning to search for you while you pull her underwear down the smooth curves of her legs. Your tongue clicks and you begin to chide her, "Jisoo—so needy—"

"Don’t start." She threads her fingers through your hair and pulls you into her. The breath you draw through your chest is moist, filled with the sweet smell of her excitement. Your nose brushes against her clit, your fingers tease the shallow depths of her entrance, and your tongue meets her lips, wanting.

She shudders. And her voice dips out of its usual composed timbre, meeting a contented sigh that shakes and moves her whole body. "Ohhhh."

The lips around her heat fold and twist under each slow, methodical, swirling pass of your tongue. Her hands pull you into her and your mouth forms kisses that suck and massage at her mound, finding again the familiarity of her reactions—a quick breath, a soft mewl, sometimes when you really find where she needs you, she curses.

When you look up, Jisoo’s eyes stare back at you with a heavy longing, her chin tucked and a hand holding the dark, wavy hair out of her face. The pleasure you brew between her legs has begun now to agitate these erratic waves of movement in the surface of her stomach, all as her muscles jump and her chest draws heavy gasps of air.

"That feels so good—"

You reach behind her, and a handful of Jisoo’s perfect ass helps guide her hips into your efforts while the other explores the wet mess you’ve created between her thighs. Her slick walls tighten around the length of your finger and Jisoo parts her lips, letting a muted whine spill loose from her chest as the shape of a second finger finds its way inside her.

Releasing your seal around her wet folds with a smack, you narrow your tongue, its firm tip quick to become a reliable partner for her aching clit—quick to become exactly the toy Jisoo needs.

Shuffling about, she turns her bra around on her chest and unclasps the stubborn thing before sending it careening to the floor. Completely naked for you now, the grind of her body against your mouth becomes more urgent, more selfish, seeking her own release on the shape of your tongue. Her lip caught between her teeth, she whispers, barely audible to you now in between her thighs, "right there—fuck your tongue."

Her knees begin to weaken and buckle. Locked in conflict, Jisoo’s building pleasure struggles against her desire to stand, holding her right where she needs to be, where your tongue can continue to deliver the swirling, tapping, teasing touches that race to bring her to the brink. When your fingers find the throbbing skin behind her clit, putting the poor swollen bud between a rock and a hard place, Jisoo begins to pant in fits and starts. The only thing clenching harder than her teeth are the muscles beginning to tense and lock around you.

You can feel your chin become slick, Jisoo’s wetness practically dripping onto your shirt, and those whispers become stuck in an endless loop, "keep going, keep going."

Ever since you’d known each other, and probably long before that, Jisoo’s very fabric had been stiffly woven into this spitting image of perfection—always concerned about the way people saw her, how people talked about her when she wasn’t listening, whether or not she might say something with even a hint of the wrong inflection. It has to be utterly exhausting. And you knew possibly better than her: where to find those loose threads that had been tucked and hidden away. A tap or a tease here, a pull and a twist there, and you see to it that Jisoo unravels.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!—Fuuuuuck."

Sharp fingernails dig into the back of your head, pressing you tight against her wet, aching mound. Her legs lock, muscles tighten, and in a moment of brief triumph, you look at her—taking in the sight of Jisoo coming undone.

Holding onto a silent moan, her expression twists, all scrunching and wrapping around the knuckle she keeps tight between her teeth. Nearly folding herself in half, she holds most of her weight against you as she reels in pleasure. You study each quiver and shake that seizes her body as the walls come down around her.

It’s somewhat of a mangled heap you two finally connect into onto the hardwood floor of your apartment. You’re the first to rise considering that your recovery was just about complete when you’d wiped the excessively wet surface of your mouth and chin with the back of your sleeve.

"God." Her lungs still gasping for air, she catches your stare with a pair of half-lidded eyes. "You’re fucking dangerous."

You suppose that makes two of you.

Beads of sweat form where her dark, silky hair wisps into soft strands at her temples. Her legs continue to carry on a slight wobble, walking across the carpet in your living room. And through it all, her unwavering commitment to seducing your every thought remains entirely steadfast—each step offering you a clear picture of her elegant figure, completely nude for you eyes to enjoy.

She places the palms of her hands on the room’s single window, a tall simple piece of glass that stretches from the floor to the ceiling, and she creates this irresistible curve from where her neck meets her shoulders to where her waist flares into the perfect roundness of her hips.

Jisoo pulls her face over her shoulder, her eyes peeking over it and she tells you everything you need to hear, "Get those clothes off—and come fuck me."

She doesn’t have to ask twice.

Tie, shirt, shoes, belt, pants, underwear all make this hapless trail throughout the room as you follow in the sound of Jisoo’s voice. You’re like a moth fluttering its wings in anxious proximity to a flame, the way she just makes your body move without thinking.

"Tell me," she says.

You position yourself behind her, fingers gingerly pumping your own cock as if it could even get any harder.

"Tell me—just how far do you think you’d have gotten with Rosé?"

"What’s with that?" You lick your palm and dip it between Jisoo’s thighs, but you should’ve known without needing any confirmation—she’s as slick as can be. "What’s it to you?"

Jisoo laughs quietly, "I mean the girl’s a grade A prude—"

A gasp interrupts Jisoo as you press your cock against the lips of her pussy, presented neatly in between her creamy thighs in front of you. You watch as she grips onto you inch by inch and all but pulls you into her inviting heat.

"So?" you ask.

The girl in your hands finds herself looking again over her shoulder, her eyes begging you to fuck her. "So—I’m sure you're a hell of a lot happier now that you’re about to have me."

"If I remember correctly—" And you’re more than sure you do. You start pushing your cock past the hot, tight seal of her lower lips. You find her wet and ready and wanting you, but still she needs to adjust to something bigger than just the narrow width of your fingers. "Weren’t you more of the same?"

You press your thighs against hers and Jisoo moans, the airy sound becoming her only response. Her shoulders rise and fall as she settles into the shape of you. All the same it manages to yank a groan out of your chest, only it fills you with this yearning for more of the warmth and tightness that now surrounds you.

"Am I wrong here?" You ask, bending forward against the arch of Jisoo’s back. You mock the aloof sound of her voice, "Miss I-don’t-usually-do-this."

Your hands grip onto Jisoo’s waist as you drag yourself back and press forward into her again, and you watch her body move, a ripple traveling through her thighs to her hips.

"Tha-That doesn’t sound like me."

Teeth starting to clench and grind, you whisper under your breath at the ridiculousness of it all, "you’re right—it certainly doesn’t."

It’s a delicate motion made across the velvety skin of her sopping pussy, but you come to bury your shaft in that slick heat of her cunt again. The way Jisoo feels—so impossibly tight and hot around your cock—you swear as though she were designed specifically with you in mind. Like a fucking glove. Bent at the waist, the angle lets you bury yourself deep, and at the end of each thrust, you have to make an effort not to simply lose yourself right then and there.

Slowly, you work up to a tempo that makes it difficult to carry much of any meaningful conversation at all. And all too quickly the angle you find against her hips sends Jisoo into a satisfying fit of panting breaths. You watch each one as it draws through her chest and lands hot against the glass, quickly becoming fogged and littered with hand prints.

Each collision between your hips fills your apartment with its fleshy sound, her taut wet skin against yours making for a particularly satisfying clap.

"So - fucking - good," Jisoo manages through her gritted teeth. 

You soak up the perfect hourglass shape in front of you, holding tight at its stem. The city lights on the other side of the window manage to paint Jisoo in this fantastic myriad of colors. Blues, greens, reds, all these unnatural tones against the pale skin of her face, her back, her ass—she looks as if someone had decided to paint her and let their imagination run wild.

You can’t help but wonder what it looks like from the other side. Your room is only a few floors above street level, and anyone looking up would undoubtedly see Jisoo struggling to maintain her ridiculous posture, the beautiful features of her face fast becoming wracked with pleasure—not that either you or her seemed to care.

"Fuck, Jisoo I swear—you are too tight!" you groan, but there’s never any real purpose to the complaint. The force of each thrust against Jisoo’s tight body sends her inching closer to the glass in front of her until her shoulders are pressed tight to it and your bodies nearly parallel.

Jisoo strains on the tips of her toes to meet your height, to where your cock delivered this impossible pleasure to the burning heat of her cunt. Her hands search on the window in front of her for something to grab onto, but quickly come up with nothing as the glass offers no such reprieve in its unyielding, bare surface. The best you can do to help is to hook your fingers around her elbows and pull her back, helping her stay upright

"Fuck me, you feel amazing Jisoo."

"You’re—Jesus—so hard right now ya know?" Jisoo labors to swallow again. "Don’t even think about cumming inside me just yet."

"Honest, I’ve been thinking about it since the moment I put my cock in you."

"Don’t you dare." She turns her to where you can see her face in profile, pulling you forward to kiss and breath heavy against her cheek. "Just shut up and fuck me."

There was hardly any room for misunderstanding in that.

The impact of your hips against hers continues to shake all kinds of curses and whines from her lips. She struggles to keep her head over her shoulder, eventually just resting one side of her face against the cold glass. But still she manages to hold you in her gaze, at least half of it, laboring fruitlessly to keep that usual cool expression from bending and yielding to the pleasure between her legs—incredible how quickly it all begins to fall apart at the seams.

"God! Right there!" she squeals, "it’s so fucking good—" All the words out of her mouth come in various states of composure, some of them airy, some rasped, others staccato and repeating—an utter mess pooling in your ears, but even still, they harmonize perfectly.

"Yes - god - fuck - that’s it." Struggling on her words, she sucks air sharply against her teeth and shuts her eyes tight. "Make me cum again—I’m so close!"

An intense heat smolders from deep inside Jisoo’s cunt, melting and aching around you. You recognize just how badly she needs to cum on your cock all because it’s the exact same chain reaction every time—muscles lock, lips part, eyebrows scrunch, and in a final desperate breath, she finds her lip between her teeth.

You lift yourself as much as Jisoo’s desperate grip on your shoulders will allow and search for her hips with your hands. She squirms as you hold her firm, pushing her tight, quivering body into the glass, and you take the opportunity that only the throes of orgasm might provide—to use her exactly how you need. If she’s going to cum twice, surely you’ve got the green light to have a crack at it once.

The muscles in your legs start to heat and stiffen as you push yourself into that tight warmth more urgent and frenzied than you could ever hope keep up with, but it doesn’t matter—It was never going to take a whole lot to fuck and pump yourself there.

"Jisoo," your voice strains, "I’m gonna—"

"Yeah—do it," she rasps, reaching her hands back and grabbing on tight to your thighs.

You drop your face into the silky hair behind her ear, selfishly taking in the addictive smell of her sweat and perfume. Your balls tense, you find a shallow breath to hold onto, and driving your cock into her again, you bury your cum deep into the tight depths of her throbbing heat.

"There you go. Let it out," Jisoo whispers against the window with a voice grown hoarse. "Cum in me like you always do—fucking fill me up."

You can count the seconds where you’re not sure if you’re alive or dead while you release yourself in Jisoo’s cunt—which by all means, is a warmth, a wetness, a tightness you could live in forever—but the ringing in your ears, the incorrigible knot in your stomach knocking on your throat, you feel yourself returning.

Your muscles burn, the curiously sour stench of sex fills your nose, and you collapse atop the mess you’d turned Jisoo into, the two of you gasping for breath and finding comfort in the cold touch of the window pane.

You share a moment of exhaustion between the two of you. Breaths heave midst your chests and sweat beads at your brow. As quick as it comes, the moment passes. Her hands relax from the makeshift handles she’d found on either cheek of your ass. And with two gentle pats to your rear, she more than makes herself understood.

Jisoo clears her throat. "Alright - get up - I need some water, and then I get to be on top."

—

When you wake up, there’s this mood in the room. Sofa cushions are on the floor, your clothes still trailing from the foyer entry to the window, the wrappers from a late night snack—but of course, as per usual, Jisoo’s nowhere to be seen.

You shuffle your feet from your bedroom door to the kitchen to find a note on the fridge.

"That’s new," you say under your breath, pulling the sticky note in front of your eyes and rubbing the sleep from out of them.

"Had to bounce. Borrowed that book by the way. I need to know what happens—does Jay get the girl of his dreams? Is there a happily ever after? Don’t spoil it for me. I’ll be back to return it soon enough.

Jisoo"

"That woman—I swear," you grumble, "it’s not a happy ending."

#jisoo smut #blackpink jisoo smut #blackpink smut #kim jisoo smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader

[hwalloween]

Home | (seonghwa smut)

Pairing: TattooArtistEx!Seonghwa X Ex!Reader

Synopsis: Seonghwa and you broke up over a year ago. If you were over him, why were you knocking at his door?

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 5.8K

Warning: unprotected sex. creampie. oral (both receiving) dachyphilia. facefuck. fingering. masturbation. praise. body worshiping. petnames (love, darling, baby). cum swallowing. marking, biting. swearing. mentions of alcohol. it’s very angsty in the beggining but it gets better towards the middle. hwa and reader have some unsolved problems. reader has some mental health issues

Tags:

A/N: i love being a shinestar and having this type of brainrot at 9AM on a monday :D

You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be there. You shouldn't even think about the possibility of going there, but there you are, at your ex’s door, waiting for him to open. Your whole body shivers, the cold of the night making your overall mood even worse. 

Your break up with Seonghwa was not exactly amicable. There was still some hard feeling left between you two, things that were never discussed or mentioned. Your contact with him was close to none, only exchanging polite hello’s when you saw each other at parties or gatherings. You lost your memories about the time you had finished dialing his number and warning you would be at his house by twenty. You did not remember when or even how your feet had brought you where you were at the moment, only that you were there right now, waiting for him to open the door after you had ringed the bell. 

You were staring blankly at your phone screen when the screech of the door opening startled you, eyes shifting fast towards your front as you stared back at the man. He had a towel around his neck, hair slicked back with what appeared to be hair dye on it, the color of his locks now being a platinum blonde. It complements the rest of his appearance, you thought. The tank top he wore made his tattoos visible, the ink covering both of his arms from shoulder all the way to the tip of his fingers. Both of you stared at each other for a few seconds before saying anything.

“Did you want something, Y/N?” He asked, one eyebrow arching in confusion. You did not give an explanation as to why you were there, you just said you were going to appear, and you kept your promise. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out of it, your body resorting to just walking in his house without previous warning, dropping your bag on his couch and sitting right by it. Seonghwa only stared at you, not bothering to question a single thing, closing the door right after and throwing his keys on the coffee table in front of you. He knew something was wrong, he knew you like the back of his hand. You two had dated for five years for god sakes. 

“I’m going to shower to take this off” He pointed back at his hair “And then we can talk if you want” You nodded, seeing him disappear on the main corridor as he left. Your eyes darted around his living room, soaking back all of the information. You knew that living room for the past six years of your life, coming here every day after his work-shift ended, crashing on his couch together to watch something and sleeping together right after. You knew the blueprint of his house by heart, yet something looked off about the place. Maybe it was the lack of pictures of you two together, maybe it was the lack of decoration you had gifted him, maybe he had just changed things around. 

Or maybe it was the huge box right by the window, top opened and rubbing on you in a very weird way. You had never seen this box in the five years you two dated, so its presence was very eerie to say the least. You tried to distract yourself by looking around and finding other stuff to pay attention to, but your eyes kept coming back again to the opened box. You could just take a peek inside and not tell Hwa, after all, what could be hidden there that was so outrageous? New clothes? New equipment for his tattoo studio? Something for his dog? A gift for a new girlfriend?

A gift for a new girlfriend. Your heart sank when this thought hit you. It could very much be something for a new partner he had found, Seonghwa was always very low profile about his dating life, even when you two dated. His parents found out about you two after two years of dating, by accident, on a new years eve. Not the greatest way to meet your in-laws. Your legs shifted around, wanting to wander closer to the box, but your mind said it was not right. It was his privacy, and he had every right to it, even if it meant you would stay curious about the box’s content forever.

“So” You snapped back to reality after hearing him, head darting towards the direction of his tone. He was in the open kitchen, grabbing something from the fridge as he spoke “May I ask the reasoning behind your unexpected visit? I’m not really used to having guests at…” He looked at his clock, closing the fridge door with his hips as his hands were full with two drink cans “Midnight on a thursday. I’m not complaining, tho” He walked back to the couch, sitting by your side and handing over the beer can, keeping the juice one to himself. You paid attention to how far he was, almost sitting two feet away from you “Did something happen?” He sounded worried. 

You looked back at him, biting your lip. The look on his face, the same one he always gave you when you came back exhausted from work, or when you said you had a fall out with your parents, or when you said one of your friends had done something terrible. That sweet, tender look that made you feel cozy, like begin next to a fireplace. You felt your heart thumping again, that was not the time to start having feelings again for your ex. 

“I, hum” You scratched the back of your ear, not sure how to start this conversation, nor if he was even gonna be interested in said conversation, You cleared your throat “I just left the house of this dude I was seeing…”

“Oh…” The tender look on his face shifted to a more stoic one, tone sounding disappointed on the matter of the conversation “How… did that go?” He brought the can to his lips, gulping on the juice.

“I caught him sleeping with a girl and a guy, all three together” You saw him choking on the drink, coughing hard as he tried to stop his reaction. He breathed deeply, looking right back at you with an incredulous face “That was not the reaction I was expecting” You wished you could laugh, but the sadness of being cheated on was bigger.

“Pardon my beautiful reaction, definitely not one of my best moments” You chuckled lightly “Fuck that it was with a girl and a dude. He cheated on you?” The emphasis he gave on “cheated” made your stomach churl. He sounded even more worried, if not a little angry “Some random ass guy decided that… he was going to cheat on you?” 

“I… guess that happens?” You tried to laugh off, seeing how he did not find it funny at all. You bit your lip nervously again, fingertips tapping on the cold can in your hands. Breathing deeply, your mind was too distracted to notice the tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes, glistening with the dim light of the room and catching Seonghwa’s attention. He brought his thumb to your face, gently wiping away said tears. 

“Don’t cry for a man like that. If you can even call him a man” He mumbled, face again filled with worry and seriousness. Yes you two had broken up. Yes you two did not end on the best of terms. Yes he was still worried with you and with your emotional state “He did not deserve you” 

“I don’t deserve anyone” Your voice was barely audible, whispering as your mind slowly spiraled down into a field of darkness. Seeing someone you had grown feelings for cheat on you had a terrible effect on your head, even if you did not want to admit it. You were slowly breaking down in front of Hwa, he could see it. You opened your mouth to say something else, but the words got caught on your throat as you felt his hand on yours, holding it tightly

“Don’t you dare to say that” He was stern, almost like he was scolding you “You deserve someone good that treats you right” 

“I broke up with the last good person that treated me right for some dumb reason I don’t even remember” You blured out, looking right back at him with hurt in your eyes. He knew you were talking about him. Seonghwa could feel his heart clench at what you said, biting his own lip to swallow down the knot on his throat. He couldn’t remember why you two broke up either, only knowing that it left a bitter taste on his tongue for the past year. His eyes averted yours, looking back at the can in his hand “See? You can’t even look at me properly anymore. I don’t deserve someone good when I treat others the way I do”

You felt the tears gathering in your eyes quickly streaming down your cheeks, head bowing down as you started to sob softly. You were not lying when you said you couldn’t even remember why you had broken up with him, you couldn’t remember anything from the first three months of the break up, only that you cried every single day thinking about him and wanting him back. All that turmoil was coming back, making you try to hide your face between your hands, not wanting him to see you and not wanting to see his reaction at all. You felt his hand leave yours, only to feel it again on your arm as your whole body was pushed against his. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly and holding you close to him. 

“Go ahead. Let it all out” He said softly, fingers gently running through your hair as you broke down on his arms, crying uncontrollably as you stained his white tank top with your mascara. You had prepped yourself up today, putting on some makeup, choosing a nice outfit and doing your hair. You felt gorgeous when you walked out of your house, all that to be thrown right out of the window when you saw the guy sleeping with two other people. Hwa thought you looked stunning, but he would never say it out loud, afraid you would find him weird or even obsessed. As you started to calm down, you felt his thumbs rubbing against your cheeks, wiping poorly away the tears and makeup that stained your face. You looked back at him, his big eyes looking over at you with sadness and care "Let's get you ready to rest. You had a horrible day" 

The feeling of being back on his bed was weirdly comforting. The soft sheets that never spend more than two days without getting washed, his comfy pillows that smelled just like him, the huge mattress that felt like sleeping on a cloud, it was truly like the best deja vu. Hwa had made you take a nice hot shower, accidentally leaving the box of his dye in the sink before leaving the bathroom so you could have your privacy. You laughed softly seeing everything he had used to carefully dye his hair, how he had a bunch of tissue paper, two pairs of used rubber gloves and a neatly clean bow with a brush, only some reminiscence of the dye being left on it. You showered thoroughly, letting the water hit your skin and warm your cold and tired body, cleaning yourself up and feeling refreshed. Seonghwa lent you some of his clothes, including one of his boxer briefs because according to him "He was going to wash all his dark clothes that week anyway" You chuckled when you said that, thinking it was classic of his mom-like behaviour. His clothes smelled fresh, and his huge fuzzy sweater fitted like a dress on you just like it did on him, the pants being a little too baggy, but still feeling nice and comfortable. Laying now at his bed, you looked around the room, searching for all the little details you could remember, and smiling softly when you noticed Cocoa, his dog, sleeping in his bean bag at one of the corners of the room. 

He had kept the room intact. The huge dresser was still in the same place, the mirror covered in stickers was still right by the dresser. His work station was still filled with piles of paper and books, a little adjustable light shining on them, reflecting back on the drawing and lettering he did everyday. A tiny bookshelf could be seen above it, filled with mangas or romance novels he had read at least five times. You kept smiling while looking around, remembering all the countless times you were in that room, whether to sleep or to do something else. Your eyes shifted around his work area, gaze fixing upon one of the papers that were taped onto the wall. A lettering he had made of your name, with his signature letter. You remember when you first saw it, being utterly amazed by his skills and hopelessly in love by the dedication and thought he has put on it. He even gave you a handmade copy on a frame of the lettering as a gift. You could feel your heart thumping again in your chest, the feeling of being in love with Seonghwa resurfacing against your will. You heard the door open, looking back at it and seeing him in his pajamas. The navy blue pooped out on his skin, complementing the newly colored hair and almost making him shine. He lay by your side, whole body turning to your direction just like yours did to his. You two stared at each other for a couple of seconds, just soaking in the feeling of being this close again. 

"Feeling better?" His voice sounded tired, and you felt guilty, even if his smile tried to say the contrary. You nodded with your head "Good, good. You're gonna be fine by the morning, don't worry" He assured, pulling the sheets on top of you both "Nothing that a good night of sleep can't help" 

He stared right back at you, saying nothing. Even if you wanted to sleep, you couldn't. You were tired, yes, but there was something keeping you awake, you didn't want to go to sleep without saying nothing, and leave in the next morning pretending nothing ever happened. Your heart just couldn't. Your gaze kept fixed on his, looking at every single little detail of his face. His pretty doe eyes that looked a little bit tired, but also worried; His strong sharp eyebrows that furred a bit while looking back at you; His pretty cheek that had a light flush of crimson painted on them, as if he was shy; His wet hair that feel back in his forehead and pillow, hiding a bit of his face but also complementing him; His pouty and pink lips, that stood on a straight line as if he was thinking about something. He was so gorgeous, even when in a vulnerable state like that. It did not make sense to you why you had let him slip through your fingers. Why did you even break up with him in the first place? It wasn't jealousy, he had never shown signs of being romantically close to anyone else but you. It wasn't a lack of interest from either of you, you two were glued to each other and madly in love from day one. Why did you let him go? The only thing that made sense in your life? Your main source of happiness for all of those years? You could feel the tears coming back, mind sliding down yet again on that dark place of your head you hated being in. Hwa cupped your face gently, wiping yet again your tears away because he hated seeing you like this. 

You did not know if it was the right decision, but it just felt right at that moment. Your hands grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him back at you as your lips found his in a heartfelt kiss. It was slow, nothing rushed, but intense. His arms hugged you, one of them creeping up in your back and pulling you even further onto him. Kissing your ex should not feel this right, but it did. You could feel all of the emotions on the kiss, all of the unspoken words, the uncovered feeling, everything was on the table right now. Your hands cupped his face, feeling the tears that now feel on his cheeks, your turn to wipe them away. Your mouths didn't leave each other, only coming to a stop when neither one of you could breathe properly. You glued your forehead to his, eyes closed as you took deep breaths, feeling the sensation of being so close to him again. It felt so good. Your eyes meet his eyes, staring at each other for a second before diving back into another intense kiss, squishing into one another as you two tried to get impossibly close. You needed this, you needed him close, holding you and making you feel loved, you needed Seonghwa. His tongue quickly slipped in your mouth, searching for yours as his hands roamed around your back torso and wrapped around your waist tightly. Your hands traveled down his torso, feeling how the buttons of his pajamas threatened to open and expose his skin to your touch, making you start to feel a coil build up underneath your stomach. 

As you two broke away again for air, Hwa quickly rolled you onto your back, taking himself with you and getting on top of you, arms on both sides of your face as he cagged you with his body. Your noses touched as both of you took deep sectioned breaths, his eyes closing for a second to soak in all of the information. 

"I missed you" Hwa's tone was low, his satoori accent popping out "This year has been a living hell without you by my side" His eyes opened, staring right at your soul. The regret, the sadness, the anger, you could see all of them passing by his dark irises, glistening with a coat of love. Love that he still felt for you "I never thought I could be miserable until you left me" 

You wanted to cry again, to say how much you missed him too, but it wasn't enough. You pulled him yet again, kissing him like he was going to slip away from you again, like it was going to be the last time. His lips broke away from yours, kissing down at your jaw and neck as his hands roamed all over your body, feeling you up like it was a fever dream, the best fever dream he could have. His tongue leaped across your skin, teeth sinking in and biting on you in an almost territorial way, feeling as your breath hitched and hands gripped tighter in his shoulders. You wanted to say so much, but everything you could say was his name in a shaky moan, begging for him to take you as you threw your head back and gave him more access. He sucked and kissed sweet spots, leaving your neck covered in purple love bites as he traveled down to your shoulders and treated them the same way. He bit particularly hard in the area where your neck met your shoulder, kissing right after as his way of apologizing for marking you. His hands slid under the sweater, feeling the temperature of your soft skin as he pulled the fabric over your head and tossed to the side. You felt goosebumps as the cold air hit your skin, shivering a bit but soon being dragged away by the feeling of Seonghwa's mouth kissing down a tray between your breast and stomach. 

"I never understood how you were insecure about yourself" He mumbled between the kisses, his hands sliding on both sides of your body and holding your waist "How you thought your body wasn't pretty… I never got it. To me you were always the most gorgeous woman I've ever met" He followed back on his trail, kissing up your chest and softly cupping one of your breasts, squeezing gently and earning a moan from you. Hwa could feel his trousers getting tighter by the minute. 

"Fuck that dude that cheated on you" he said angrily, kissing around your nipple as his hand played with the other one "Fuck anyone that ever did you wrong, including me. You never deserved it" His tongue leaped across the flesh of your boob, mouth captivating your sensitive bud as he sucked and licked on it, making your back arch. He was always so attentive to your body when you two were intimate, going to the point of neglecting himself only to pleasure you again and again. He was so caring, despite his cold persona. Your fingers grabbed the nape of his neck, softly feeling his hair as you moaned loudly at the sensation of his mouth against your breasts. He released your nipple with a little pop, converting his attention to your other boob, nibbling and sucking in your nipple. There was no one that could fuck like Seonghwa, no one that could make you feel the way he did when you two were in bed, and you had missed that feeling. 

He trailed down your body again, kissing you up until he reached your groin area, looking back at you for approval. You nodded desperately, wanting nothing more than his skilled tongue inside of you, eating you out like a five star meal. He chuckled lightly, slender fingers hooking the bar of your pants and underwear, pulling them down and tossing it aside with the sweater. His mouth water just looking at your pussy, wet just with the foreplay. He lightly feels your folds up with his thumb, your hips halting at the sensation. He pressed the pad of said thumb against your clit, slowly rubbing circles and making you moan at the sensitivity, head thrown back and hands gripping the bed sheets. While he slowly worked in your sensitive bud, he licked your folds up, humming at the taste as he gave your pussy open mouth kisses, sucking in it and letting his tongue dive in you. His hands held your thighs open, allowing you to see him eat you out. He never broke eye contact, looking right back at you with a dark lusted gaze, your head feeling light as he took his tongue inside you, curling it up and making you feel stars. He sucked at your clit, feeling how more and more of your wetness covered his mouth and chin, smiling to himself. One of your hands flew to his hair, gripping it and forcing his face even closer to your core, causing him to suck on your folds and thrust you with his tongue again. You could feel the coil underneath your stomach get tighter, your hips halting at the need of riding his face even at that position, your moans getting louder and high-pitch. 

"H-Hwa, I-I'm" You couldn't finish your sentence as you felt the coil snap, the sensation of liquid gushing out of you as you climaxed filling up your senses and whiting out your head. Seonghwa stepped back, fingering you while you squirted and made a mess all over the floor, not giving a single shot about it at that moment. The view of you cumming hard because of him only made his dick harder, his other hand gripping on it by reflex. You slowly rode down from your orgasm, Hwa's fingers still buried knuckles deep inside of you, making your walls clamp in pain and pleasure due to the overstimulation. He carefully took them out, shoving them right on his mouth and tasting you, moaning in the process. Your cunt clenched again at the view, your hands creeping down at your folds and rubbing them, the sensitivity causing your hips to halt as you moaned lightly. Seonghwa looked back at you, hooded eyes filled with need and wanting to have more of you. He shifted around, holding your legs up as he prepared himself to take his clothes off and slide inside you. 

"W-Wait" Your voice sounded a bit hoarse, hands reaching down to his thighs as he looked at you confused. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with red "I want to have you in my mouth. Please" The way you pleased made a direct sharp pain down his shaft, cock wanting nothing more than being freed and used. He bit down his lip, head shaking positively. 

His fingers unbuttoned his shirt, arms shifting around and taking the piece of clothe right from his body. The view of his sun-kissed torso, toned muscles exposed covered in a thin layer of sweat, tattoos running from his shoulders, across the top of his chest and stopping right by the middle of his ribcage. The colors that adorned the sides of his waist, hugging right back at his hips and losing themselves down his pants. You felt your fingers rubbing against your clit again just at the sight of his body, letting a long deep breath out of relief. He pulled his pants down along with his briefs, briefly moaning at the feeling of finally freeing his dick. His shaft was slightly thick, leaning more toward the long side, his whole cock being bigger than your whole hand open. The red tip was glistening with precum, a single vein popping out and going all the way down to his balls. Seonghwa let his hand wrap around him, pumping a few times for a bit of relief. 

You shifted yourself on bed, standing on all fours in front of him, facing his hard on. Your hand wrapped around him lightly, catching on how Hwa's hips halted a bit. You dragged your tongue across his shaft, tasting him up before circling his head with the tip of your wet muscle, licking down onto him again. You kept your eyes fixated on his face, seeing how his eyes closed and eyebrows furred, mouth letting out some of the most gorgeous moans you ever heard. He looked so fucked out, you could feel your cunt almost dripping from how slick you were. Your mouth swallowed him, head sinking down as you breathed through your nose and tried to take as much of him as you could. His hand rested against the back of your head, lazily guiding you as you deep-throated him. His hips slowly started to move, going against the flow of your mouth and deep diving onto your throat as the tip hit the back of it. His grip in your head quickly tight it, holding you still as he started to face fuck you. He moaned lowly, occasionally throwing some swear words and praise, making your mind feel fuzzy and the knot in your stomach came back. Your fingers traveled south again, slowly rubbing your clit and slipping between your folds, thrusting shallowly in your pussy. His thrusts started to get more frantic, his cock tensing up inside your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard on him to help. Drool spilled from both corners of your mouth, the saliva dripping down your chin and onto your chest as he used his mouth as his sex toy, fucking himself onto it. He suddenly shoved all of his cock inside your mouth, head thrown back as you felt strings of his warm load going down your throat, both of you moaning at the same time. 

Seonghwa pulled out of your mouth, a thick string of cum mixed with saliva connecting your lips to his dick. You licked all of his shaft, gathering every single drop and swallowing eagerly, while looking back at him with pretty eyes. 

"Fuck…" He mumbled, breathing heavily and holding your face, seeing how you swallowed and opened your mouth wide, showing him "Always so good for me, baby" He smiled lightly, making your heart feel warm. You shifted back again, sitting with your legs in front of you. 

"Hwa..." You said softly, earning his attention. You spread your legs, showing him your wet cunt and swollen clit, eyes begging for him to help "Please…?" 

"Of course, love" His lips connected with yours, bringing you into a heated kiss as his whole body pushed yours against the bed, hands holding your thighs open and exposing your core to him. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, adjusting his hips with yours. He teased your entrance a bit with his tip, making you whine out of response. He chuckled, aligning himself and slowly pushing inside, both of you moaning loudly at the feeling. He filled you up just right, stuffing your pussy and making you feel so good. Your walls clamped around him, tightly holding his dick and earning a hiss from him. 

"Love to fuck you" He put both forearms beside your face, getting closer to you "Always so tight and eager to have me" His lips found the sweet spot on your neck, sucking and biting even more on the hickey he had given you earlier. Your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer to your body as your back arched slightly. Seonghwa started to slowly snap his hips back at yours, your bodies moving with the full force as he picked up the pace, pouding on you in no time. He pulled everything out just to snap right back at it, making you feel stars and threw your head back with the sensation. He moaned and groaned in your ear, hands gripping on the pillow beneath you as yours held on his shoulder blades, scratching his skin with red stripes and making him feel fire. He angled his hips just the right way, hitting your g spot and abusing it, cock filling you up and then leaving you empty, clenching so tightly. The coil underneath your stomach quickly grew as you felt your orgasm approaching, your loud moans warning Seonghwa. He pulled his torso up, hands grabbing your waist tightly as he fucked you in just the right way, the view of his whole body tensed fucking you throwing you over the edge. Your legs shook as a wave of pleasure washed over you, your cum spilling from your pussy and wetting his dick and lower torso, your mind getting white and empty as the sensation. As you clenched tightly around his hard-on, Hwa felt as his own coil snapped, hands gripping tightly at your waist as his hips glued to yours, shooting his cum inside of your warm walls, head thrown back and mouth hanging open. You two breathed heavily, bodies slowly calming down and settling in as your orgasms washed over you, a feeling of weight hitting you two. Seonghwa slowly layed on top of you, hiding his head on the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your torso to hug you tightly. Your breathing normalized, finally allowing you both to open your eyes and look back at each other, tired smiles on your faces. He leaned himself against one of his forearms, looking at you briefly before kissing you softly. You smiled between the kiss, hand cupping his cheek softly. 

"I mean it" He said, the same stern voice from earlier. You made a confused face "I mean it when I said I missed you" His eyes were soft, diving onto yours "I really, really missed you this last year" 

"I missed you too" You said quietly, voice sounding a bit sad "I still can't wrap my head around the fact I broke up with you… There was literally no rea-" 

"There was" He cut you off, cleaning his throat right after "There… was a reason. I think your head just blank to protect you" He gave you a sad smile, avoiding looking back at you. 

"What… was the reason then?" He bit down his puffy lip, still avoiding eye contact. 

"I… was addicted to alcohol. I didn't think it was an addiction but… you helped me see it was when you said you would never marry an alcoholic jerk that… refused to acknowledge his problem…" He swallowed down, feeling his throat close as the tears gathered on his eyes, making them shinier "You… said that when we talked about you moving in… to here…" 

"Hwa… I…" You felt the knot on your throat too, the flashes of said fight sliding back to your mind the more you thought. You did say that, a bit out of frustration, but more because you were worried he was going to die of alcohol poisoning before you could even think about marriage. He used to drink like crazy to handle his job at the studio and his friends who kept pestering him about life stuff "I'm sorry I…" 

"Don't say that. You knew I needed help and I didn't want to admit" He slid his fingers against your hair, feeling the soft locks "You were right. And I only noticed when I no longer had you… I've been clean for the past eight months. Couldn't stand looking at a drink without thinking about what you said" He gave you another sad smile, the tears slowly falling down his cheeks "I'm sorry"

You shook your head negatively, pulling him back as your lips connected to his and your arms embraced his body. He let his head rest against your shoulder, hugging you back as your fingers caressed his hair. It just felt right to be in his arms. You let your mind slowly wonder back to the event that led to what just happened, stopping at a specific moment. 

"Hwa…"

"Hm?" 

"What was that box in the living room?" You looked back at him, seeing as his eyes tried to remember what you were talking about. 

"Oh… that box… uh, it has some of your stuff… you left here after everything happened…" His cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed smile adorning his features "I was going to… call you and ask if you wanted them back… I was thinking about using it as an excuse to talk to you" He averted eye contact again, the sheer look of embarrassment on his face making you laugh "This stuff belongs to your home so…" 

You arched one eyebrow, gluing your forehead to his in a playful manner, hand cupping his face yet again while smiling softly. 

"Home is wherever I'm with you, Seonghwa" You said, gently caressing his face. You could see his eyes lit up, a large smile across his face even if he tried to hide his excitement and happiness of having you back. 

“Then welcome back home, darling”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #ateez fanfic #seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa #hwalloween #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #seonghwa scenario #atiny

[badnoahmens]

I Took Your Keys, It Was Me - Part 2

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 2.5kish

A/N: I’ve never had so many requests to make a part 2 to a fic before, so here’s this. Part 1 found here.

Two weeks had passed now, your normal daily life routine had fallen back into rhythm. A swell of work, sleep, food somewhere in the mix. There was a slight adjustment though, and that was the odd text message from Noah. It wasn’t every day, and no deep, dark secrets were being shared, it was simply a meme, a photo of something mundane, or most of the time, a terrible, terrible, pun.

The communication between the two of you was effortless, like talking to a lifelong friend. There was no sense of urgency, no burdening, no feelings of dread whatsoever, which was unusual for you to feel like that.

Their tour was starting to wind up. Only 1 week left, and 3 cities to visit and perform at. To think back at the meeting you had 2 weeks ago seems like more time had passed than it actually had. It could be because of life going back to normal, or because of all the stories Noah had told you about touring, both old and new.

Your mind got lost in a memory, one of a late night. You were sitting on the couch, dirty dishes on the table in front of you, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as the TV kept playing in the background.

The sudden vibrations in your hand and a change of screen distracted you from your doom scrolling, seeing Noah’s name flash up. It wasn’t often that he would call, this was only the second time, but there was a comfort in talking to him that didn’t seem to happen with anyone else, especially this quickly after meeting someone.

“You’ll never believe what just happened” he would say, not even letting you say hello. Immediately, he continued. “So, tonight, after the show, we went to get some food because the hungry boys deserved a feast, and then…”

Your mind started to wander. He was so excited about what had happened that he called you. You. Out of anyone in the world. It was something that you tried not to think too deep about, but boy was that hard. He was excited, and thought of your name, and wanted to tell you all about his exciting story.

It was his laugh that brought you back to the conversation, bringing you out of your own head and back to whatever epic tale he was recounting. Something about getting lost and then being chased by some rodent and needing to hide up a tree, then the rodent climbed the tree too… it was hard to follow along with what he as actually saying because of the wheezing and laughter mid-sentence. You couldn’t help but just smile. A big, goofy, toothy grin. He sounded so genuinely happy.

“So, as you can probably guess, I have a new fear of rats now” he finished.

“So what you’re saying is, that big, bad Noah, who wears a ski mask and wraps his hands like a boxer to perform, is scared of a mouse?” You tease.

“Did you not hear me! This rat was the size of a small dog! What if it bit me!” He was off again. Going into strangely specific detail about how big it’s teeth were and how hairless it’s tail was.

Snapping back to reality, you couldn’t help but scroll through your old conversations, giggling once again at some of the photos he chose to share with you. One in particular was a favourite.

It was a selfie, and wore a uniform black outfit of a shirt and beanie. It looked like it was night, the windows showed a dark sky. Although it was a selfie, the photo was aimed over his shoulder, a chaotic scene of arms flailing and frustrated expressions in the band and crews faces. Noah himself looked as though he was stifling a giggle with his eyes semi-closed and lips pursed together. What looked to be a Monopoly board and its game pieces were scattered over the floor, table, and lounge. What you could only imagine is an argument occurred where someone was wrong done by, egos were crushed and friendships were put to the test.

It was these kinds of photos, the casual insights into his life, that made you think more about him than what you probably should.

Almost as though he knew you were thinking of him, a new message from Noah dings in your phone.

“We’re in your town next week!” Is all it said, followed by a second message. “Still offering that tour of the best places to eat?”

Your heart skips a beat. The memory of the offer to show him around your city floods back and you cringe a little at the awkwardness of it all. After musing over a response for a few minutes, you respond.

“I’ve got just the right place in mind”.

————————————————————————

The next week had finally rolled around and you were on your way to the food truck you had told Noah all about. It was… quaint. Set up permanently in an old car park, with some rickety plastic chairs scattered around, it served some of the best food you’ve ever eaten. Throughout the morning, you had changed outfits 4 times, drank 3 coffees, turned the house upside down looking for a hat that you didn’t even wear, and then almost locked yourself out of the house, all thanks to the panic that was starting to set in.

Thoughts if doubt started to creep in, force of habit you guess. Your mind was not the kindest of places, especially to yourself. Some of the things you would say to yourself almost made you pull the plug and not go at all, but you were distracted once again by Noah sending a message confirming the address.

Right now, you were sitting in your car, around the corner from where you were supposedly meeting everyone. You had invited the whole band and crew along to try and ease the awkwardness, but now it has made the whole thing even more daunting.

You leg bounced in its place, nervously tapping a rhythmic and repetitive beat, almost like you were building up the courage to actually get out of the car. A very long 5 minutes passed, and you forced yourself to push open the door. Why was this so nerve-wracking? Was it because it had been building up for a week, or because you were seeing Noah in person for the first time since you last met? Was it because you had brought along the hoodie that he gave you last time to give back to him, but secretly you didn’t want to part with it?

One foot started to move, followed by the other, as you walked closer to the desired location of greasy burgers and fries. Your stomach rumbled fiercely at you, reprimanding your choice to skip breakfast and run only on a caffeine diet this morning. It distracted you enough, right up until you could hear a familiar voice, echoed by a band of laughter.

You stood at the corner, looking at the food truck, seeing all familiar faces crowded around the plastic chairs and tables. Folio was talking to Jolly, making strange expressions and wide arm movements, as though he was telling an age-old story of his, meanwhile Jolly looked as though he had heard it all before. They were the closest, a wall of bodies with their backs turned to you was behind them, a mix of people, of which you could vaguely make out Bryan, Matt, Ruffilo, Dakota, Tim, Steven, and even Miles.

Memories of their faces flash back in your mind, back to the night you met them, sitting around in a circle in the greenroom after their concert. They were so kind to give up their space, time, and drinks for a stranger, let alone a fan of theirs.

There was a shift in the crowd that stood around the plastic table, and then you could see Noah. He was sitting down at one of the chairs, glancing between his phone and his friends around him. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, along with a white graphic tee and some black shorts. He was a simple fashionista, but you’d be damned if you said it didn’t look good on him.

The 10 seconds that you stood there for felt like a lifetime as the bubbling of nerves in your stomach grew. They all seemed to happy and relaxed, and you could help but think, why ruin that?

The devil on your shoulder screamed at you to leave them alone.

They’re happy.

Don’t ruin it for them.

Look how well they’re doing without you there.

You could feel your eyes welling up, threatening to spill over tears at any moment, but you wouldn’t let that happen, especially with the threat of them seeing you like that.

You suck down a shaky breath, holding it in as you turn on your heels. In the end, that voice was right. Why would they need you to join them? A fan, nonetheless, that they met once, to hang out like they were childhood best friends? It was ignorant to think that it could have gone any other way than this.

You could see your car now, almost acting like a safe place. Your steps quickened as you impatiently headed towards your familiar haven to then let the tears fall. That was until you heard your name being called out from behind you. It makes you stop in your tracks. A feeling of panic rises inside your chest as you hear it called a second time.

It was Noah. It was his voice, undeniably, calling out to you.

Your eyes squeezed shut in an effort to fight back the feeling of despair, forcing the tears back. You couldn’t face him like that. You could hear him walking towards you, footfalls growing louder and the keys that jingled by his pocket rang like a warning bell.

Blinking back the fear you still had, you had no choice but to turn and face him. When you did, his face was full of confusion, slightly tilted to the side, eyebrows knitted together like he was trying to figure out what you were doing.

“The food place is this way” he says, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, glancing back in that direction. “Are you okay?”

“Just got lost, I guess” you lie. He knows. He can tell something is off.

“We’ve been waiting for you. Need some recommendations for this place!” He says enthusiastically. It’s clear as day to see he is trying to cheer you up. He’s reading your situation exactly as it’s playing out. He gives you a look, tilting his head down and raising his eyebrows almost as though to say ‘you coming or what?’

It was his calm demeanour that was the only thing that could have convinced you to stray from your path of heading to the car. The way his eyes pleaded in the gentlest of ways made it feel like it was all going to be okay.

“The burgers are greasy as, and you’ll regret it afterwards, but they’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten” you finally respond with a slightly shaky voice. There’s still an air of hesitancy as you start walking towards Noah, but you admit defeat and cave anyway.

As you step closer, one arm lifts and wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug as he spins to face the rest of the band of friends. His arm drops and pulls out his phone, taking a quick snap of the food truck as he strides towards it. You need to quicken your pace because the fucker has long legs and walks fast as hell.

As you near the crowd, they turn and meet your gaze. A chorus of “Hey! Good to see you!” “Where have you been? I’m starving!” And “what’s new key-girl” welcomes you.

You throw out a wave, paired with a “good to see you guys again” and a side glance at Noah, who’s smile is beaming as he looks on at the menu hanging on the side of the truck.

The next hour that follows is one filled with jokes, good food, tales from the road and even a short walk down the Main Street of town. Framing each side of the road are buildings of all different architectural styles. Art-deco neighboured modern, which neighboured neoclassical. There was even a gothic-style library building that you walked past. It was something you admired about this small city, it wanted to be so much more than it was, but seemed like it never really got there.

You walked amongst the group, trailing more towards the back, looking up at how the sunlight danced through the buildings, the trees, and reflected on shop front windows. The sky was a picture perfect blue, letting the sun shine down a radiant warm that gently kissed your skin. It was mid-admiration of your surroundings that you see in your peripheral vision that Noah was looking your way. When you finally glanced at him, you were met with a sweet smile, one that was soft but warmed your heart. He looked away quickly, down at his feet, with his hands shoved into his pockets, along with a little giggle as he scuffed a rock with his shoe.

“Thanks for earlier” you say, looking up at him, squinting slightly as the sun was shining behind him, highlighting a glow around his hair, showing every whiff of the wind that tousled loose strands.

“Don’t mention it” he says, swerving to bump his elbow into your side. It took you aback seeing how comfortable he was being this casually playful.

“I wasn't going to come. I was on my way home”

“I know. I could tell. You had the fear of god in your eyes” he said with a smirk. You couldn’t help but notice how one side of his lips curled up a little more than the other when he smiled.

As terrifying as it was to admit, he was right. You were never that good at hiding your emotions, so why would this be any different?

“I’m glad I caught you, though” he continued, looking back at you, with that damn smile again.

“I’m glad too” you reply, looking away from his gaze in an attempt to hide the blushing in your cheeks. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, yet it was comfortable.

You look ahead, glancing between all of the friends, strolling down the Main Street of your town like it was nothing. Like they weren’t these recognisable figures adored by thousands, if not millions. Including you, you admired them. As artists, as people. They had brought you so much joy and yet here you were, just going for a walk with them.

It was only a few minutes later that you reached your destination, the bank of a lake, splitting off into river mouths and down into streams. It was a favourite of yours because of how tranquil it was, how calm it seemed and how it housed an entirely different world beneath the surface that just fascinated you.

There was a concrete wall that ran along the side where the group had started to sit, some propped up and some laying on their backs on the grass next to it.

But you and Noah decided to keep walking for now, continuing the conversation of small talk and banter.

“How long have you lived around here?” Noah asks.

“As long as I can remember. It’s changed a lot over the years. It’s kinda comforting, but it also gets old. I guess it’s different to what you’re used to” you reply, cautiously asking about him, but not wanting to pry.

“Yeah… I guess you could say that. I haven’t really stayed somewhere too long to really get that used to it. I’m at a good place now, though. Living with some of my closest friends” he says, looking ahead into the distance.

“I meant, with tour, you probably see some cool places.”

“Oh, for sure. We have been to some awesome cities, met awesome people. It’s quite a unique lifestyle that’s for sure.” He looks down at you to meet your eyes, “not for the faint of heart”, followed by a wink.

A wink? Dude, come on. You’re already confused about how you feel, and now he throws you a wink? This man.

“It’s a lot of temporary things. Temporary bed. Temporary city. Sometimes temporary people” he was looking out over the water now.

You admire the way he chose his words carefully. It was clear that he had been through some shit, but he was clever and never intentionally dragged up baggage for pity or for entertainment.

“I hope I’m not a temporary person” you say, almost too quiet. He looks at you and smiles, and you panic. Was that too forward? Would he think you’re clingy?

“So do I” he says, then looks away again.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest, and right on schedule, the overthinking-train arrives. What is that supposed to mean? Is he flirting with you? Is this a joke? Are there hidden cameras somewhere filming this whole prank?

Noah can see your mind racing, it might have been the jittery hands or the rapid eye movements to look anywhere but in his direction.

“I hope I haven’t freaked you out” he admits, and in a moment of confidence, you start to question him.

“Is this some kind of cruel prank you play on fans that you meet?” You ask, in an almost harsh tone. Noah is taken aback slightly, pausing his steps to come to a standstill.

“Why would you say that?” He asks sounded offended.

“You can’t blame me. Think about it. Fan meets band. Band and fan hang out. Fan and band become friends. Fan gets feelings for band. This stuff doesn’t happen in real life” you say with a sigh in defeat. Saying it out loud makes it seem more like a joke.

“It’s… it's not a joke. I rarely meet people that seem like good people.” He pauses, thinking of what words to use, carefully plucking them to try and not make you flee. “It’s different for me too, but you seem like someone I really want to get to know”.

There was sincerity in his voice. You looked at him, and there wasn’t an ounce of falsity to him.

“Plus, did you just say that you have feelings for the band?” He asks, cracking a smile.

You throw your head back, covering it with your hands and turn away from him to hide from the embarrassment. Why did you say that? You have feelings for him? What a way to fuck it up now!

“Yeah… I mean… you can’t blame me” you’re stalling. “I mean, have you seen Ruffilo? The man is beautiful”.

Noah smiles and let’s put a small laugh, but his eyes give away that he’s a little offended that you didn’t mention his name.

Fuck. Now does he have the wrong impression? Why is this so hard?

Now you were panicking, trying to think of a way to fix this.

“But really…” you start, trying to quickly think of the right words to say. “Think about it. Even us walking along here together, right now, seems like it’s a bit far-fetched.”

He nods, acknowledging the strange circumstance that led up to this point.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I mean, I get to spend time with you. That’s something I never expected!” You say trying to change the mood, but Noah shifts and crosses his arms, avoiding eye contact.

“No, I get it. It’s to be expected, really. I guess I was a bit delusional for thinking that wouldn’t come up” he looks out over the water, past you, with a solemn expression. I guess you really did hurt his feelings. You internally kicked yourself for royally fucking this all up.

You stop walking, Noah takes one step more than you, then turns to finally meet your gaze. You take a big breath in, close your eyes, and then exhale. Noah looks at you quizzically. When you open your eyes, you give him a soft smile, and hold out your hand to him. He looks at your hand, then back at you.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you” you say kindly, then offering your name to him.

“Is… this… are you okay?” He asks.

You drop your hand and give him an exasperated look.

“I’m trying to start things over”.

“Oh.. oh okay. Hi, I’m Noah” he states, then holding his hand out. You shake it, feeling the warmth of his hands and noticing the calluses forming.

Noah’s phone pings at that moment, he takes a second to type out a response, then puts it back into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” You ask.

“Yeah. The guys said they’re heading back. I’ll meet up with them later.”

“If you need to go, I won’t be offended”

“We only just met! I can’t leave now, that would be rude” he says with a smirk.

You continue to wander, side by side, for the next 30 minutes, at some stage turning and beginning your walk back to your starting point.

“Are you staying locally?” You ask.

“Yeah, we have a hotel tonight. A nice break from the bus. That thing gets crowded and smells bad real quick.”

“I can drive you back there if you need. Your hoodie is in my car too.”

“I said you could keep that” he glances at you with a side eye smirk.

“I know, I feel bad keeping your stuff though”

“I have probably a million pieces of Bad Omens merch. I can even give you more if you want”

Your mind quickly flashed to the mound of merch for this band that you already own. “I don’t think that’s necessary, thank you for the offer though”

“Fine, suit yourself.” He shrugs. “But I will take you up on the offer to drive me to the hotel. Think of it as that driving tour you promised me last time.”

You smile down at your shoes remembering the interaction, the hoodie he gave you, him making sure you got back to your car safely. He did everything so right, and you were trying everything you could to not stuff this up even more.

By the time you got to your car. The sun was starting to set. You hadn't realized that you had spent half a day with Noah until you turned the headlights on.

Noah slipped into your passenger seat, legs so long that they almost needed to be folded over each other just to fit. He rummaged around for the mechanism to move the seat, and finally found it giving him more leg room as he slid back in the chair. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the sight.

“What? Man needs his leg room!” He throws his hands forward, motioning to his long limbs, which we’re still bent just to fit. You shook your head a little, playfully, and then pulled the car out to start your journey.

Noah directed you to his hotel, saying it was about a 10 minute drive from here.

“For someone just passing through, you sure do know your way around” you joke, keeping your eyes on the road. Noah, however, was looking at you, like you were having a full conversation, only glancing ahead to point you directions.

He was a passionate talker when he got out of his shell, spoke with his hands a lot. The boy couldn’t keep them still at one point he was almost twisted completely around just to emphasize the story he was telling. He had you in stitches, the way he recounted events and waited for your response, then gave you time to recover from a laughing fit before he continued. He watched you react to his words, he paid attention to the small details, the crinkles by your eyes when you laughed hard, how you would glance at him throughout the conversation to tell him you were listening, even the way your grip would twist around the steering wheel when he was describing a scary part of the story. He noticed everything about you. And you noticed him noticing you.

You had a moment of realization that he was just a person. A person who laughed, who cried, who’s been through shit and now, is just sitting in your car. The sudden wash of relief, the pressure you were feeling, just gone.

The drive comes to an end and you pull up outside the hotel. Nothing too fancy, just to get them through the night. You look up at the building, half its lights were switched on in the three-storey building.

You turn and look at Noah then, the glowing of the lights bouncing off his face making him look as angelic as ever, so much, that it actually made your heart skip a beat. Trying to make sure he didn’t notice the hitch in your breath, you twist at an awkward angle, reaching for the black hoodie on the back seat.

You couldn’t help by notice Noah lean to look over too, your faces now only an inch apart. So close that you could even feel his warm breath each over your cheek. It didn’t help the state of admiration you were already in.

Your fingers graze the material, grabbing at it and finally twisting back into your position in the drivers seat.

“I believe this belongs to you” you say, handing over the garnet.

“I thought I said…” he spoke, pausing to take the hoodie in his hands and hold it out by its sleeves. He then leaned towards you, stretching his arms above you and wrapping the piece of clothing around your back and over your arms, twisting it into a knot on your chest. “You could keep it.” He finished, smiling triumphantly.

The closeness had you feeling a little lightheaded, maybe because you felt like you forgot to breathe around him, or maybe the low lighting made this interaction feel way more intimate than it was.

“I guess…. Thank you” you say, looking into his eyes. All you could see was a sweet dark chocolate brown staring back at you.

Noah’s hand then takes yours as he plants a light kiss on the back of it, placing it back down into his hands again. You couldn’t help but stare with your mouth ajar slightly at the gentlemanly gesture.

“It’s my pleasure.” He pauses again, looking outside then back to you. “If… if I asked you out on a date, would you hesitate to show up to that too?” He asked, sounding honest in his intention, his eyes looked in your hands together.

“A date?” You gawk, almost too quickly. He nods. “I, uh, no. I wouldn’t.”

“Because I’m still in town tomorrow if you’re free.”

“Tomorrow… tomorrow…? Uhh..Nothing on the agenda that comes to mind.” Honestly, you had no idea if you actually had anything in tomorrow.

“Great. It’s a date. I’ll meet you here at 10?” He asks excitedly, that sweet lopsided grin making a comeback.

Your heart was beating through your chest, it was a miracle that he couldn’t hear it.

“10. That works. I’ll be here.” You say, not sounding that convincing.

“I hope so” he replies, paired with another wink. With that, he opens the car door, stepping outside, and closes it with a gentle thud behind him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a wave through the window. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, taking in the image of him gentle waving and glancing over his shoulder as he walks to the door. He enters safely, and on his way to his room.

That’s when the excitement hits. You grip the steering wheel tight and let out a squeal. That’s right, a squeal. You have never squealed before in your life, but this man has you feeling so giddy it’s unreal.

With a deep breath, you pull the car out again, heading home, already running through every possible scenario that could happen at 10am the next day.

Part 3

Masterlist

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens band #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #bad omens fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian bad omens #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fan fic #bad omens fan fics #bad omens cult #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction

[beenbaanbuun]

Its You and Me (‘Til the End of Time)

words - 3.8k

genre - fluff

warnings - Mingyu is a cutie

To be fair, you’d been meaning to visit the place for a while. Ever since you first moved to Seoul a month ago, you and Mingyu had been trying to make plans to see each other, but for one reason or another, they always ended up getting cancelled. Usually, it was due to Mingyu having to practice late, or being called into the studio to re-record some lines, but you never minded. Mingyu was a busy guy, and it’s not like you hadn’t waited for literal years to see him; a few more days couldn’t hurt.

The two of you had still yet to set up a new time and date, and yet there you were. A mixture of excitement and anxiety bubbled within you, making the stress inside of you build to an almost unbearable level. It was impossible to stay calm in such a situation, but you were trying your hardest. You could only hope that the thread you were hanging in by stayed intact for just a little longer.

You lifted your hand up to the door once more, letting your fingers wrap against the wood before you could think about it twice. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as the sound finally reached your ears; there was no turning back now.

It was hard to hear much above the rain that hammered down against every surface surrounding you, but it was difficult to mistake the jingle of keys for anything else. You thought you’d have more than just a few seconds to gather your thoughts and decide what you were going to say, but as the door swung open, your mind went blank.

“Hello…” the man standing before you looked wary. It was understandable, you supposed. It’s not every day a stranger shows up at your home at such a time, especially not when you’re a K-pop idol. You were surprised honestly that he opened the door at such a late hour.

“Is Mingyu in?” You replied, voice wavering a little as your body shivered. The longer you stood there, the colder you felt. Especially with the door to the Seventeen dorm now wide open, almost teasing you with how homely it looked inside. Well, as homely as 13 grown men could make a place look.

The man, who you assumed to be Seungcheol, just watched you with worried eyes. With the way you stood there, tears streaming down your face and wet clothes clinging to your quaking body, he felt it was almost cruel to have this conversation on his doorstep. He could invite you in, and offer you a nice warm cup of tea and some clean clothes before continuing to interrogate you about your intentions with his member. It seemed like the humane thing to do.

But for the safety of himself and his members, he kept the conversation on the doorstep. If anything happened to his boys, he’d never stop feeling guilty. Protecting them came first, even if it meant he had to put his instincts to be a gentleman aside for a moment or two.

“Why?” He asked.

“Please,” you replied, “I just need to see him.”

“Who are you?” He countered.

“I’m a friend.” You could tell you didn't have him convinced.

“Can I have a name?” You nodded.

“Y/N.”

A sudden look of realisation fell over his face as you answered his question. Knowing that Mingyu must’ve told his group about you almost filled you with a sense of pride, and if you weren't on the verge of what seemed to be the fifth breakdown that night, you probably would’ve smiled at the thought. But with a huge ball of anxiety growing bigger and bigger in your chest, you could think of little more than getting some much-needed comfort.

“You’re Y/N?” Again, you nodded, only this time it was more desperate, “The Y/N? The one Gyu never shuts up about? I didn't even realise you were real!”

“Huh?” For just a second you were shocked out of your sadness, but Seungcheol took no notice. He ushered you into the building, closing the door once the two of you were safely inside. You were barely standing there for a second before he mumbled something about finding Mingyu and rushed off into a room that you assumed some of the other boys were sitting in. Given the way the place erupted into a mass of noise almost immediately as Seungcheol made his presence known, you guessed you were correct.

You tried not to listen to the conversation going on in the other room, simply focussing on taking off your shoes. You placed them neatly by the door alongside a pair of the biggest boots you’d ever seen in your life. It was easier said than done though; the boys were loud and even though they spoke on top of one another, the conversation was surprisingly easy to understand. Multiple questions were thrown at Seungcheol, most of which he replied to with a simple ‘later,’ before moving on to the next.

You wondered if Mingyu was in there with them, sitting amongst all his friends, having a good time. The guilt of taking him away from them, even if just for a few hours, ate at you. You almost regretted knocking on their front door, and you definitely regretted disturbing the peace at such an hour. Maybe if you hadn’t panicked like you did, you would’ve come up with a better solution than bothering your childhood friend who you hadn’t seen in years. You doubted he even cared enough about you to help you of his own accord, and you certainly didn't want to pressure him into anything. Maybe the best thing for you to do would be to put your sodden shoes back on your feet and leave quietly. You could see Mingyu another time; a time when he actually wanted to see you. Of course, you’d ask him to apologise to his members for you. It’d be the least you could do.

You bent down to grab your shoes again, wincing as you felt the cold material touch your fingertips. The thought of putting them back onto your feet - your feet that were only just starting to warm up - made you want to cry. Thinking about stepping out into the cold, rainy night was even worse. With a sigh, you blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and reached out to grab the door handle.

“Y/N?” You stopped in your tracks as your name was called. The voice was one that you recognised, and just hearing it again brought you an immeasurable amount of comfort. It was like going home after a long time and shoving your face into your favourite childhood blanket, or holding a forgotten teddy in your arms for the first time in years. It was something so distant, and yet so familiar. “Is that really you?”

Mingyu didn’t attempt to hide the worry on his face as you turned to him. He didn't see the point. Why pretend that everything was okay when it was obvious that it wasn't? After all, why else would you be standing in his home so late, dripping a puddle onto the wooden floor in the foyer? Why else would your eyes be red from all the tears you’d cried?

“Mingyu,” you whispered.

“I couldn't sleep and then I heard hyung say your name,” he explained as he closed the distance between the both of you. As he wrapped himself around you, sharing his body heat with you, you felt the thread inside of you getting weaker. “Are you okay?”

It felt like home to have him in your arms again, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

“I don’t think I am,” you admitted, letting yourself turn to jelly in his arms. You tried desperately to hold back the fresh wave of tears that burned the back of your eyes, but as Mingyu rubbed soothing circles into your spine, it felt more and more impossible. “I’m so sorry.”

As your voice cracked, his arms tightened around you. You were thankful for that, in a way. You’d almost certainly fall to the floor if you didn't have at least some form of support to hold you in place. It was just ironic that that support came in the form of the very same man that had supported you for almost all of your childhood. Even after you spent so long apart, the two of you seemed to slip right back into the childish, unconditional love you once felt for one another and nothing felt even a centimetre out of place.

The two of you held onto one another for a while. The loud conversation from the other room soon turned into background noise as Mingyu hummed a tune into your ear. It wasn't one you recognised; perhaps it was something he was working on. And even the thought that he would share something so private with you after so many years made you feel a whole lot better.

Nothing seemed to have changed, not really anyway. Sure, the two of you were a little older but Mingyu was still the same Mingyu as before, and you were the same you.

“I won’t let you tell me you’re sorry, okay?” His lips moved against your ear as he whispered to you, “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

You hiccuped out a sob.

“I shouldn’t be here, Mingyu,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The way Mingyu’s arms held you against him with a vice-like grip let you know that he disagreed. Still, you argued your case. “We haven't seen each other in so long and you shouldn’t have to deal with this. You’re busy!”

“Not right now, I’m not.”

“But you will be tomorrow,” you argued, “and this is so stupid! I should just go.”

You tried to pull away from him, but his grip on you only tightened. It wasn’t painful, but it was firm enough to let you know that you weren't going to get away from him that easily. Not until he’d made sure you were okay, at least.

Because to say he was worried would be an understatement. It would be one thing to show up at his dorms unannounced, but to show up in the middle of the night with tears streaming down your face and your hair and clothes dripping with rain? There had to be something bigger going on and Mingyu was going to get to the bottom of it, even if it killed him.

It killed him more not to know.

Because he cared for you. Even if you hadn't seen each other in years, he still loved you. He still thought about you every single day and dreamed about you each and every night. His lockscreen was a photo that you’d sent him of you at the beach, and his favourite playlist was one that you’d made for him. You consumed his life and he wouldn’t let you leave now. Not when he knew you needed him.

It wasn't long until you gave up trying to pull away and rested your tired head on his shoulder. Your wet hair left a cold patch on his t-shirt, but he didn't even blink. If he even felt the tiniest bit cold, he knew you felt a hundred times worse.

That reminded him, you were still in your wet clothes.

“You’re going to catch a cold, you know,” he said, “and while I’d be more than happy to take care of you, I don't even want to think about how miserable you’d be. Let's get you changed, hm?”

You didn't argue as he pulled you along, up the stairs and to his bedroom that he shared with God knows who. It was obvious which side belonged to Mingyu and which side didn't. The clothes that were sprawled across the floor reminded you of his bedroom as a teenager and you couldn't help but giggle when he shot you an embarrassed smile.

You sent one back, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you followed him over to his wardrobe.

He dug through his clothing collection, occasionally stopping on the odd piece before deciding that it wasn't right and moving on. Of course, you were in no position to turn down warm, dry clothes so you would’ve taken anything Mingyu offered to you. Knowing him, though, he was searching for the softest, fluffiest pieces he owned, just like he always did when he lent you clothes.

There was a small sound of affirmation when he tugged a large brown hoodie from its hanger and placed it in your arms. It was swiftly followed by a pair of matching sweatpants and some fluffy socks that had little dogs on them. They were cute, and so utterly Mingyu that you almost wanted to tease him for them.

But before you got the chance he scurried off, mentioning something getting you something warm to drink. You called out a thank you after him and got to work taking your sodden items of clothing off.

Each of them made an unappealing schlopp sound as they hit the floor. It sent a shiver down your spine (or perhaps that was just how cold you felt) the sound entirely unappealing. Once you were changed you'd have to hang them up to dry and grab a mop to get rid of the rather large wet patch on Mingyu’s bedroom floor. There would be nothing worse than leaving him to deal with it after all of his hospitality.

Speaking of which the clothes he gave you were possibly some of the cosiest you’d ever worn. The inside of the matching sweat suit was fluffy and got to work with drying your skin a little. The coolness of your skin was soon starting to seep away into nothingness and you wrapped your arms around yourself to snuggle against the soft material. You hated to think about the cost of something like this. Probably more than you’d earn in a month and there you were, wearing it like it meant nothing.

But it did mean something. It meant a lot.

To you, at least.

“You look so cute,” Mingyu laughed as he stepped back into the room, a laptop stuck under his arm and a steaming mug in either hand. “Look at you. The sleeves are so long on you, it's adorable. I wish I could grab my phone to take a photo.”

You blushed as his soft voice rang through the room, offering compliment after compliment.

“It's not my fault your arms are freakishly long,” you shot back at him. He laughed a little more as he placed the mugs on the nightstand and his laptop on the bed. His body soon followed, flopping unceremoniously onto his mattress. He patted the spot next to him as if to invite you over.

You hesitated.

“Come on,” he said, “get your cute little self over here and into my freakishly long arms. It's been way too long since we’ve had a BFF movie night!” Your face was probably shining red right now, the effects of Mingyu’s words really hitting home.

Because as far as you could recall, your BFF movie nights had never involved cuddling on his bed. Instead, the two of you would sit together on a sofa, one blanket covering the two of you with a popcorn bowl in the middle. If Mingyu occasionally slipped his arm over your shoulder, that was his business, just like it was yours when you pretended to fall asleep with your head leaned against him.

Althoguh, the more you thought about it, the less this differed from the movie nights of the past. Instead of a sofa, it was a bed and instead of popcorn, it was hot chocolate. Mingyu was still very much the same tall, clingy teddy bear as he was back then, and you were still the same old you.

One deep breath was all it took for you to make your way over to the bed and crawl on. You sat down, a little more gracefully, next to Mingyu and peered over at the screen of the laptop. Quite frankly, you didn't care what he was putting on. You figured that being next to him was enough to bring back the nostalgia of when the two of you were young. So when he gave you a suggestion, you just hummed and waited for Mingyu to lean back against his pillows.

He did, putting an arm out to the side for you to lean on. You smiled as you rested your head against it and shuffled your body until it was flush against his. As if it were an instinct, Mingyu’s other arm snaked around your waist, pulling you even closer in. It was cosy and you were happy.

The film ticked by, neither of you paying much attention to it as you watched one another instead. There was the occasion comment passed between the two of you, although it was nothing significant. Just small talk, really. Something that you never cared for but with Mingyu it felt nice. Telling him how your life had been didn't feel forced, and you more than loved listening to him tell you about his members. By the time the film was finished, you felt as though only minutes had passed by, not a whole two hours.

But Mingyu made no move to put on another film, and you thought that perhaps the comfort and safety of the night was all coming to an end. He’d send you home, letting you know that he had to go into the studio tomorrow or something, and he’d already lost too much sleep with you there. He’d send you on your way and let you know that you’ll see each other soon, but how soon was a question that the two of you couldn't possibly know the answer to.

As sad as you were about the inevitable, you couldn't be angry, nor could you claim it was unexpected. Honestly, you were more surprised that you even got to spend these fleeting few hours with Mingyu in the first place. He opened his mouth to talk, and you waited for the words that you really did not want to hear.

“I want to ask you what happened,” he whispered, “What was bad enough that the only place you could think to come was here? To me.” He stopped for a few seconds to gather his thoughts. There were a brief couple of seconds where you could've responded to his question, but part of you knew that he didn't want you to. Not yet at least. “I'm grateful, of course. I’ve missed having you around and even if the circumstances are, well, less than favourable, I still like having you by my side.”

It was still dark in the room, even though the sun had just begun to peak over the horizon. You could just make out Mingyu’s features as he gazed at you. He was even prettier now that he’d grown into a man, even though he hadn't changed that much. His big doe eye remained, as did the permanent pout on his lips. He’d just grown into them, you supposed.

“I like being by your side.” You replied.

“That's good to know,” he said, leaning in a little closer, “because now I have you back with me, seeing you walk out that door again just feels wrong. I need to know that you’ll be coming back and I need to know when. I can't just sit and wait for the day to finally roll around, anymore.” You could feel his breath brush against your lips. His own were parted, glistening in the golden light of the dawn. “I want to know that you’re mine, Y/N.”

The words struck you like lightning.

His.

You hadn't seen him in years but somehow, all the feelings that you’d pushed deep down came shooting back, hitting you like a wrecking ball. The way your skin seemed to tingle whenever he lay a hand on you, or the way your face heated up whenever he shot a nonchalent compliment in your direction. You always doubted he knew that he was driving you crazy on a daily basis, but now you weren't so sure. He may have seemed the type to jump into things head first and face the consequences layer, but you’d never known the man to do anything without a mental pros and cons list.

“Do you ask every girl who comes to your doorstep crying to be yours?” You joked, not sure what else to say. You wanted to scream yes, but the thought of making him wait for an answer from you was a little too funny.

“Only the pretty ones,” he replied, not phased by your comment.

His, of course, had done the world of damage to you. You giggled, shying away from his gaze. It's not like he hadn't called you pretty before, but this time it had meaning behind it. No longer was it just an off-the-cuff comment that Mingyu made to boost your confidence when you were feeling a little shy.

It took you a moment to regain composure, and even longer to look him in the eyes. He wore a confident look on his face as if he already knew the answer. You cursed your lack of subtlety for making it so obvious that you wanted to be his just as badly.

“I guess I’ll have to say yes,” you whispered, “even if your timing is impeccably off.”

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled. You could tell he wasn't actually sorry at all. “I couldn't hold back now that I’d seen you again.”

You knew how he felt. The pull you felt towards him was almost unbearable.

��I’ve missed you Mingyu.”

“I’ve missed you more.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt fluff #seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen oneshots #svt oneshot #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshots #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu oneshot

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I'm about to bleach and dye my hair for the millionth time and it got me thinking.

How about a fanfic of either one of the moon boys coming home and just seeing his s/o in the bathroom just casually dying their hair some bright color and just like "Hi! :D"

Ahhh, I love this! I dye my hair at home a lot (bright colours) and I always get it on myself.

Vivid

Marc Spector X GN!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: mentions of reader getting hair dye on themselves (this could imply that the reader's hair is not short, however I find that when dyeing my hair the main problem comes from me touching everything with my gloves that has hair dye on them. But I just wanted to put that here just in case.) sleepy Marc, typos, rail road sentences Please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 468

_______________________________________

Marc was shattered. Really to collapse into sleep at any given moment. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so tired. Every step was heavy as if his bones had turned to lead, aching and straining at his muscle with even the smallest movement. 

Even the dirty London pavement, with its litter and grime and old chewing gum, seemed a lot more comfortable than staying upright anymore. 

Honestly, he was surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep on the tube, or the bus, or just walking back to the flat. Or the lift, or while putting his keys in the front door. 

He sighed as he got in, just managing to remember to not leave the keys in the lock, and fumbled to get his shoes off. He nearly fell over, twice. 

The plan had been to collapse in bed (or on the sofa, as that was closer) but a faint smell of ammonia hit him the second he had taken two steps inside. 

Marc frowned. “Babe?” 

“In here!” You called from the bathroom. 

He padded across the room, his feet thumping across the floorboards. He pushed the door open gently.

You turned to look at him and grinned. 

In the best possible way, you were a state and you knew it. Dyeing your hair was always a bit of a saga, and no matter how hard you tried you always managed to get bleach or the bright coloured dye on your top, so you had forgone it, leaving you completely naked from the waist up. 

Despite your gloves, a small tear on the left hand meant that most of your palm and fingers were stained. Luckily only with the colourful vegetable dye you had just finished applying. 

You also had some dye around the back of your neck and a swiped smudge on your collar bone. 

“Hi!” You said happily, pulling a purposefully silly face.

Marc grinned and laughed softly. “You look colourful.”

“Thank you.” You held out your arms in a variety of comedic positions and poses and he chuckled again. There was never a better sound than Marc laughing but knowing that you had caused that happiness was simply the greatest feeling. 

“You look great.” He moved forward and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek. 

You giggle as he nuzzles close. “Careful, I’ll get dye on you.”

“I just dyed in your arms today.” Marc sank sleepily and purposefully terribly to the tune of ‘Died in your Arms’. 

You laugh again, the action sending little shaking through his body that was wonderfully soothing. He could fall asleep here, standing up but safe with you. 

“I don’t mind,” he motioned his hand vaguely in the air. “About the dye, getting it on me. Whatever.” He kissed your neck and closed his eyes. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[cevansbrat0007]

The Lonely Hearts Club: Part One

Summary: You decide to press pause on your relationship with Andrew Barber. Too bad your hotshot attorney of an ex-boyfriend doesn't understand the meaning of the word. Takes place directly after the events in Photo Shoot Faux Pas. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Angst, Break-ups, Cursing, Andy Being a Menace, Insecure Reader, Eventual Smut, Manhandling, Punishments, Minors DNI

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! This multi-part fic will feature a combination of requests from the likes of @writer84, @lexivass, @moejdaw, as well as several other anonymous readers. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

___

“Come on, girl. You can do this.”

“Yeah, but maybe…” You trail off as you approach Andy’s front door. Fishing the key out of your pocket, you insert it into the lock. Thanks to your shaking hands, it actually takes a few seconds longer than it probably should. “Maybe I oughta wait.”

“Babe.” Your friend blows out a breath, the noise coming across the other line like static. “We’ve been over this like a dozen times already. Today is just another day; it’s no different from any other.” 

Your friends had been quick to remind you that Valentine’s Day didn’t really matter. At its core, it was nothing more than a cheap gimmick big corporations used to upsell mediocre chocolate and subpar rom-coms. Right?

“I know, I know.” There really wasn’t much more you could say beyond that. Not after the two of you had painstakingly broken down every detail of this very scenario just last night. During which time you also managed to consume several bottles of wine. 

You’d been all up in your feelings from the moment you’d arrived at your best friend’s house. And Sara had spent a good hour sitting with you on her living room floor, gently rocking you back and forth while you quietly sobbed into her sweater. 

Andy hated it when you cried. But when you did, he was always so good at using his big body to comfort you – to calm you down. He’d been the one that you’d really wanted last night. You’d been so tempted to call him, even before the alcohol had started flowing. 

However, all your girls had said “no”. And when they couldn’t get you to listen to reason, they’d instructed Sara to remove the temptation by swiping your phone and hiding it away. At the time you’d been highly upset. But now you were grateful for their interference. Because this was something you had to do. 

Provided that you could make yourself stick with the fucking plan.

“Are you in yet?” Sara asks, her voice briefly snapping you back into the present.

“I am. I–I’m just gonna leave it on the table. Along with the muffins.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you brace for the sound you’re pretty sure is about to viciously assault your eardrums in three…two…one…

Here it comes.

“YOU BOUGHT HIM FUCKING MUFFINS?!” She screeches, her tone rife with stunned exasperation. “Are you being serious right now?!”

Yes, you did that. It didn’t seem right to just drop the note and run. At least not without leaving a little something else to go with it, apparently in the form of cinnamon spice crunch.

“Don’t judge me, bitch. This shit is hard enough as it is.” You growl into the receiver, setting the box of delicious smelling baked goods onto his kitchen counter. “I just wanna make sure he has something to tide him over until we – until we, um…” Gripping the edge of a chair, you force yourself to take a series of deep breaths.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” Your friend immediately backpedals. But it doesn’t matter. It’s not like you can hear her anyway over the sound of the distant roaring in your ears. “I know this is hard, honey. But you’ve got to pull it together.” 

This whole thing was making you feel ill. 

Fuck! Like it or not, she was right. The last thing you wanted to do was start crying again. Because you knew if you allowed yourself to break down here, it would be impossible to stop. And that’s exactly where you could not afford to let Andrew Stephen Barber to find you right now.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen, openly crying. Desperately wanting to be held by the one man who had the power to shatter you into a million glittering pieces with nothing more than a simple touch.

And while that might seem a bit dramatic, it also didn’t make it any less true. Which meant that you needed to get out there, fast. You couldn’t allow yourself to forget that you really did have somewhere else to be. Standing up straight, you tuck Andy’s house key into the folded up piece of paper and then place it on top of the muffins.

Time to go. 

Turning on your heel, you make a beeline for the exit. Hopefully you’d feel better once you were on the road. As you leave, you make a mental note to worry about everything else later. Until then, you just had to focus on the now.    

“Fuck!” You hiss as the door slams closed behind you. 

“What? Is Andy home? Did he –” You cut her off, feeling frustrated even as the sickly-sweet taste of regret threatens to claw its way up your throat. 

“No. I just forgot to grab that stupid fucking album is all.” With a huff, you jog over to your car. “And it’s not like I can go back in for it or anything since I left him his key. Fuuuuck!” You close the driver’s side door before turning on your vehicle and putting it in gear.

“Girl, who gives a shit!” Sara snorts, clearly relieved that your activities weren’t interrupted. “Look at it this way, whether you like it or not, you just gave that ungrateful bastard something to remember you by.”

Good point, Sara. That’s exactly why she had been designated as your emotional support person for this entire emotionally draining escape. 

“True.” Time to focus on the road. If traffic cooperated, you had just enough time to get yourself to your next destination without risking getting a ticket.

Not that that mattered much anymore. The days of anyone giving a shit about your potentially reckless activities were most likely a thing of the past. Oh well. You looked forward to no longer having to stock up on aloe. Yeah, the price of that stock was about to go way down. 

A tiny giggle bubbles up, escaping before you can stop it. 

“Are you okay, Y/N? I know that was rough back there, but I really think you did the right thing. Plus, I’ve been updating everyone on the group chat, and they all agree.” You resolve to check the thread later so that you can provide everyone with an update.

See that Andy Bear? This whole damned thing had been workshopped from start to finish. You can’t possibly accuse me of being impulsive now. You let out another burst of laughter, this one sounding a touch more hysterical than the last.  

“Also, Rhea really wants to know where you got those friggin’ muffins…”

“Tell her I’ll message her with the name of the bakery later.” You merge onto the highway as you head towards downtown. “Thanks for all your help today, Sara. Couldn’t have done it without you girls.”

“Hey boo – you know we love Andy’s fine ass. We just happen to love your ass a hell of a lot more. Now drive safe and text us when you land.” You know she’s telling the truth. All of your girls were pretty darn fond of your man, but you were their girl first. And their loyalty was to you.

Something for which you were exceedingly grateful.

“You got it – talk soon.” 

You end the call before settling in for the remainder of the drive. Not wanting to be alone with your thoughts, you quickly decide to turn on the radio – only to be surprised when Mariah Carey’s “We Belong Together” begins playing over the speakers.

“Wow.” You whisper with a shake of your head. “That is so not fair.”

Sometimes the gods possessed a real fucked up sense of humor.

Your bottom lip quivers as the lyrics hit home, hot tears blurring your vision. You let out an audible sniffle before dashing at them with your sleeve. But you don’t change the station. And you no longer try to stem the flow. Instead you finally give yourself over to the pain that was your heart breaking – piece by piece.

You’d talk to Andy in a couple of weeks. He’d give you space. He’d give you time. And if he didn’t want to work things out when it was all said and done…then you would have to find a way to live without him. And you would find a way.

But first, you had a plane to catch. And then you were gonna get yourself a margarita and – no – scratch that.

Make that a bottle of tequila.   

___

Five hours later…

Andy shoulders his way into his house from the garage, absentmindedly toeing off his shoes as he sorts through his mail. 

Bill. Bill. Junk. A Postcard from his Dentist. Another bill. And more junk.

With a grunt, he tosses the stack of unwanted papers onto the table. And then he spies the pink box resting on the counter. A smile curves its way across his handsome lips when he realizes that you must’ve stopped by at some point during the day. 

But he does find it rather odd that you wouldn’t have let him know. Sure, it was Valentine’s Day, but the two of you weren’t supposed to get together until this weekend. 

Still smiling, Andy makes his way over to the box of treats, humming a little tune as he goes. While he had a feeling something was going on with you lately, he’d simply chalked it up to stress. But he also knew that once he got you in his bed and settled himself between those gorgeous thighs, it was only a matter of time before he’d have you speaking in tongues…

Which would hopefully lead to you spilling your pretty little guts. So that he could finally try to fix whatever it was that kept making you seem so sad.  

He picks up the note, his head tilting to the side as he tries to make sense of the meaning behind your interesting dessert choice. Confused, he decides to read your message. With a sigh, he unfolds the piece of paper. Only to be caught off guard when a key falls out and onto the surface below, the sharp clatter making him jump.

“What the fuck?” He snarls as his eyes quickly scan the tear-stained piece of paper. “No. Oh no, baby girl…fuck no…” 

He could not fucking believe what he was reading. 

Andrew grips the edge of the counter as his legs threaten to give out underneath him. However, it’s not until the fourth reread that it all finally clicks into place.

You'd just tried to break-up with him. On fucking Valentine’s Day of all fucking days. But if you thought that leaving him a “Dear John” letter and a box of muffins before running off to god-knows-where was going to be the end of it, then well…the joke was on you. Because there was no way in hell he was ready to let you go. At least not without one hell of fight. 

"Alright." A dark chuckle escapes as he crumples the note in fist. Part of him wished that he still carried a lighter so that he could go outside and burn your fucking letter. “But make no mistake, sweetness, we’re not done here.”

However, Andrew Barber could be patient until he saw you again. He’d give you a couple days to get your mind right. But when he found you – and he would – he wasn’t going to stop until he had you back in his life and in his bed, right where you fucking belonged. 

You could count on that shit.

END

#cevansbrat0007 asks #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x you #andy barber x you #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #andy barber x woc!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #andy barber x poc!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #andy barber x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x female!reader #andy barber x female!reader #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #chris evans x yn #andy barber x yn #chris evans x y/n #andy barber x y/n #chris evans x fem!reader #andy barber x fem!reader #chris evans angst #andy barber angst

[yongislong]

common phrases in relationship + nct dream.

wc: idk eekk genre: fluff/angst-ish/crack?/establish relationships

cw/note: none, i dont think! common things said within reader x non-idol!dreamies relationships <3 i loved writing this sm

mark... you're doing so well. exchanged in between you guys almost every day. you both could have been alone together all day, lazing around and he'll never forget to tell you how proud of you he is, and you the same, especially on his hardest days. it comes with tears, laughter, a tucking of hair behind the ears, a kiss on the crease in between your brows, or sleepy exchanges in the morning before classes or at night just before knocking out, limbs tangled. there are more lighthearted moments between you both like when he pretends to shoot webs out of his wrists but overall support is key

renjun... boi. and yes with an i, and yes he does the hand sign thing with it, like will come up to you and go "boi" and walk away because hes a FREAAAKK. a close runner up is c'mere. GAHHHH he's insane. literally insane. he has so many phrases some saved just for you but any time you hear "c'mere" you're in for it. absolutley in for it. either he wants money, food or a world domination partner. he knows you'd do anything when he lilts his pitch up a bit higher and whines, he knows hes gorgeous its infuriating but also, look at him hes :") hes jun!? your jun!

jeno... ang or pretty thing. he's a biter. IDK, okay i dont. know. but what i do know is that he bites. whether you're making breakfast or laying curled up in bed, he has this... innate alpha urge to bite your cheek his fav, lower stomach, tricep, thigh or shoulder. literally so non sexual like hes just feral. its cute though and that little ang sound he makes </3 he always apologizes with an eye smile and a "sorry pretty thing" after giggling and wiping his spit off your skin T-T lol. likes seeing ur cheeks get pink after he bites them tho haha

haechan... and scene. he thinks he in a movie fr... everytime he rants or confesses something to you and is slightly even a bit lovable or vunurable he will end it with "and scene." he claims its to break the tension but you know its bc he always puts on a happy persona and he can't handle being emotional like that with someone. hes gotten better at it since you came along yaas but will still do it after he makes out with you and it makes you violent?? and he thinks your face is the funniest thing??? hes ever seen??? everytime?? :D ... :|

jaemin... aaaaigo. obviously! kinda basic but other than pet names and endless praise hes more of an acts of service person. hes the type of guy who would like, want to squeeze their pet to death but, out of love :") and its the same with you like he wish he could be better with words but "aigo" is just so fitting when all he feels is insane amounts of love towards you and he cant... like squeeze you xtra hard lol. sometimes he does one or the other but if your being extra cute he'll pick you up and spin you around while chanting aigo over and over again

chenle... i'll pay. oh chenle and his chivarly. yes you are both broke-ish college students and yes hes paid for at least 95% of everything since you both began dating. only times you've been lucky enough to pay is when he rushes off to the bathroom and you flag down your server with debit card in hand. he zelled you almost immediatley so, cash is now a must for you. he can't help but spoil you. you'd once mentioned to him how you can't imagine what he's gonna be like once you two get steady jobs and all he did was smile at you... like the joker... spoiler he bought daegal with his first adult paycheck

jisung... smoke bomb! i.... ok so he gets into predicaments a lot and ok, tbh i dont think hes all that shy but he is kinda awkward and envionrmentally unaware? so he'll be talking to you, or anyone really, and when he senses your eyes kinda squint and a confused pout make its way onto your lips he pretends to smash something on the ground and yell "smoke bomb" and run as fast as he can but... theres obvi no smoke so he... i mean... you can picture it T-T its v cute though just not when he gets flustered in the public grocery store because you asked him if he knew what gnocci pasta actually was

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