#sweet puppy who just wants to be called good boy :(

[yuutasprincess]

thinkin’ abt puppyboy yuuta <3 he’s so rough he cant help himself when he sees how dumb you look when he’s forcing his cock down your throat ☹️ whimpers and growls when he’s close, but before he cums he grips your head tighter and angles his cock upwards, tail wagging when he sees how messy he’s made you; thick cum dripping from your nose and mouth onto your tits :(

<3

sweet slobbery puppy yuuta who always has this lost look on his face, he’s just a stupid pup who doesn’t know how to do much. sits by the door every night waiting for you to come home so he can jump your legs and nose at the curve of your neck, needs to make sure you smell like him he says. poor puppy has droopy eyes and dark circles from losing sleep over worrying about you, he’s such a good boy, listens to every word you say! hes just so deserving of a reward! your perfect puppy, gets so happy when you help him take care of his leaky cock, can’t help the way his tail swishes and cuts the air when you get on your knees and show him your tongue. yuuta has the sweetest whimpers, cries when you cup his heavy balls and howls when he cums down your throat. hes just so pent up all day he can’t help how much cum he has, has you choking on the salty fluid and he really can’t help how his softening cock gets hard again when his cum falls onto your pretty tits. poor pup is just messy he can’t help his excitement, but he’ll always help clean up after! will slobber all over your chest and lick up any drying cum, he might get a little distracted sucking on your tits but just give him a sweet scratch behind the ears and hell be hitting you with his tail asking if he can please put his puppies in you now.

#tw: pet play #Help is this the right tag omg ^^;; #I looove puppy yuuta wherever you are anon thank you for this #been thinking about this #sweet puppy who just wants to be called good boy :( #jjk x reader #jjk smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #okkotsu yuta x reader #yuta smut

[planetpiastri]

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader [no faceclaim, reader is faceless] summary: yn and lando are couple goals around the mclaren garage, but they don't want oscar to feel left out. the problem? oscar would very much like to be left out. notes: school has finally released me from its chokehold so i'm doing my part in filling the winter break void. part 2 of my logan smau is in the works, but in the meantime, here's this<3 enjoy!

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

ynusername recent stuff (following my two favorite boys around like a stray puppy)

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mclaren Always a pleasure to have you in the garage! 🧡

landonorris nyoom

ynusername vroom, even

username1 always a good day when yn refers to lando and oscar as her favorite boys

oscarpiastri Thanks for buying me dinner 👍🏻

ynusername you're welcome kiddo 🫶 oscarpiastri Please don't call me that

mclaren

liked by landonorris, ynusername, and 211,329 others

mclaren pookie #1 and pookie #2 dump (📸 - ynusername)

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username2 WHO PUT THE ADMIN UP TO THIS

oscarpiastri Why would you say that

username3 im cackling this had to be yn's idea

landonorris pookie and proud 💪

username4 everyone say thank you yn for taking cute pics of our boys

ynusername you're welcome 😁

ynusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and others

ynusername let! him! cook!!!!!

view all 1,802 comments

username5 oh my god that is so much fire

oscarpiastri Do NOT let him cook I repeat do NOT let him cook

landonorris it was fine you big baby nobody got hurt 🙄 oscarpiastri I'd sure hope so??

username6 yn and lando are kind of unhinged together omg

username7 and that's why we love them 😌

mclaren Please bring our driver back to the paddock in one piece! 😬

landonorris all that fire and you were still the hottest thing in the kitchen 🥵🥵

ynusername 🤭🤭

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 738,899 others

landonorris actually can't think of a better way to spend this life 🤍

view all 6,038 comments

username8 CAPTION IM IN TEARS 😭😭

username9 where's my credit for sending you the video lando

landonorris how many times do i have to teach you this lesson old man?? 👊💪

maxverstappen1 Too sweet

ynusername you're my everything 💌

landonorris you ARE everything oscarpiastri And Lando's just Ken landonorris this guy gets it

maxfewtrell Happy for you or whatever

username10 glad to know i'm not the only one crying over that video of lando and yn

georgerussell63 Don't worry I am too alex_albon me too carlossainz55 Me three username11 yo??

username12 help there are so many drivers in the comments 💀

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, ynusername, and 179,025 others

oscarpiastri Hanging out with Mum and Dad 👍🏻

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landonorris she started crying when she saw this btw

oscarpiastri Sorry? landonorris don't be, it's the pregnancy hormones ynusername I AM NOT PREGNANT DELETE THIS BEFORE THE WAG PAGES START POSTING

username13 ok but does oscar need a step-sister i wanna be part of this family

ynusername love u kiddo 🥹🧡

username14 oscar liking this comment oh we've come so far from when he used to tell her to stop calling him that oscarpiastri I've stopped fighting it

tagging: @sonder-paradise hey girl<3

request: hiii, could you do a smau similar to ‘heart eyes’ but with lando and oscar is the suffering third wheel? -from anon

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #instagram au #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 instagram au #social media au #lando norris au #oscar piastri #saturn writes

[ltbunny]

Blind date with ex-husband price. It was like 4 peoples doing. It was your coworkers' yoga instructors, then the yoga instructors' supermarket bag boy and then his girlfriends who set up the date. How did we even get there?

Anyway, your dressed up, all pretty, excited to meet someone new. It's been a while since you've been on a date, a blind one at that, alot of guys take one look and either get too 'excited' or extremely deflated, both of them are horrible, but it's been a while since you've been on the scene after you finally got over your husband...

Annnndd, it's your ex. Fuck he looks good, fresh trim and his shoulders look so broad, he's wearing his 'going out, need to impress shirt'.. damn, he really wanted to appeal whoever his blind date was... maybe it's not to late to leave, he hasnt even no- oh.. his hand is on your lower back

"Sweetheart!" He smiles in a way that doesn't reach his eyes,

"John..." you acknowledge, looking up at him, "dont call me sweetheart."

"Sorry, love, bad habit."

You roll your eyes, but don't correct him. Is he doing it on purpose?

"Well, red bag," He smiles.

"Red tie," you respond

"So we're with each others company for the night then," He grins and looks at you, sheepishly, "well, that's if you want to continue the blind date?" He sounds hopeful...

He leads you to the table. Obviously, he pulls the chair out for you and gives you a bouquet of flowers, its only the gentlemanly thing to do, he says.

It starts off strained but you find yourself picking up the little things he does that you used to love, pointing out your favourite foods in the menu, listening intently to everything you say, stupidly lovey-dovey puppy eyes as he nods along, his hand on yours, stroking his thumb on the back of your hand, he even said some stupid line about 'me n u' and says soap put him up to it, fuck, you missed his laugh. You find yourself asking about the boys, work, it feels like you and price are just on a date night, like you two used to do before the divorce.

He walks you home at the end of the night, he started with hand holding, and now his arm is somehow around your waist, and he's closer than any ex-husband should be, really. When you get up to your apartment, he looks a little nervous,

"I'm not inviting you over for a nightcap, John."

"I know, love," he says smoothly, "just wondering... if it would be appropriate to end the night with a kiss,"

You feel a faint heat in your cheeks, unsure of what to do... after a few seconds, you nod, looking up at him. You feel his hand tentatively reach out for the back of your head, cradling it while he kisses you, you missed this, the tickle of his beard, his big hands on you, soft lips, soft kisses.

You can feel him actively try to hold back tongue, but the way you open your mouth slightly in the kiss makes him go for it immediately. You feel yourself melt. It's so desperate and carnal, but still so soft, like he doesn't want to push it, but it goes on longer than expected, neither of you really wanting to pull away, eventually you pull back, lips sore, heated faces, you wonder if you should withdraw the nightcap thing and just let him in.

"I had a lovely night, sweetheart, I... would really love to see you again." He says with a flushed face, his hand on your lower back again, going in circles.

"Me too, John."

"Text me, okay? We can go to that tex-mex place you really like, or somewhere fancier," he smiles softly, "I wanna see my woman happy."

"Not your woman, John."

"Yet." He says with a grin, leaning down and kissing you softly again, "thank you for giving this a chance, love, ill see you tomorrow, hopefully?"

You nod, and he walks home with a smile. Can't believe you had such a nice date with your ex-husband, thanks coworkers, yoga intructors, bag boys girlfriend...

(You probably wouldn't think it's so sweet if earlier you saw gaz in the back alley with bloody knuckles, after beating up the guy that was meant to be your date, texting price

'all done, sir.'

'Knew I could count on you, garrick.')

#visibly shaking #biting my hand so hard rn #captain john price x reader #john price #john price x reader #x reader #chubby reader #dk what to tag #cod x reader #price x reader #cod mwii

[justauthoring]

puppy love.

requested! -> high school nanami please! the reader gets everything she wants from kento 🤷‍♀️

a/n -> slowly trying to work through all the requests yall have sent me ':)

pairing -> teen!nanami kento x f!reader

shoko.

"kento-kun~!"

the words on the tip of nanami's tongue are left unsaid as his entire body freezes, a involuntary flush coating his cheeks as the sweet sound of you calling his name floods his senses.

shoko who's stood in front of him raises a brow at nanami's reaction, the stunned look on the younger boys face not one she's seen before. her underclassmen is normally so composed that it was hard to get a reaction out of him ever, and yet a simple call of his name from your lips seems to have the boy starstruck.

you bound up to him, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes, slightly breathless as you all but ran to make your way over to your classmate. shoko notices the faint pink dusted across your cheeks as well and her interest is further piqued as she watches you smile all prettily up at nanami, peering at him through your lashes as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"kento-kun," you call again, voice softer but just as sweet now that you've reached him. "are you free right now?"

coughing slightly, shoko notices nanami glances at her out of the corner of his eye, not liking the mischief dancing in her gaze before turning to face you fully. he tries to put off the impression he's annoyed but his gaze remains softened when glancing down at you and the warmth in his gaze is more than obvious to his upperclassman.

"yes." he hums, hand moving to shove in his pocket. "what is it?"

shoko watches as you positively beam, clearly ecstatic at the fact that he was free, hands coming up to clasp in front of you. "would you like to go to this cafe with me?" you ask, head tilted, before reaching for your phone, flipping it open to show off a photo of said new cafe. "yu and i saw it yesterday on our way home from our mission and i think you'd really like it."

the mention of haibara has shoko smirking, clearly noticing the shift in nanami's posture at the mention of his other classmate. something changes in his gaze and shoko has to bite her lips from laughing out loud.

"did you..." and nanami hesitates, looking wildly uncomfortable as he glances at his feet. "did you and haibara go there together yesterday?"

oh, shoko thinks, this was just too good.

nanami? jealous? gojo was going to have a field day with this.

"oh," you blink, momentarily confused before shaking your head. "no. i wanted to go there with you first!"

although he tries to hide it, the pleasure of your words is clear on nanami's face as his entire body eases, no longer tensed as the edges of lips curl upwards just faintly.

shoko snorts.

"okay." he complies, as if the answer would ever be any different. "we can go."

you let out a squeal of excitement, and if it was anyone else, shoko is sure nanami would wince. instead, he watches on with a fond look in his eyes as you start rambling on about how excited you were and what treats you wanted to try all whilst nanami nods, actively listening while letting you lead the conversation.

you wave bye to shoko as you and nanami make your way off the schoolgrounds, and just as you and nanami turn out of view, she sees him shuffle towards you, arms brushing together. she grins when she sees you glance up at him, still beaming, wrapping your hands around his arm and leaning against him, and nanami lets you.

all without complaint.

without hesitation, shoko turns, eyes peeled for a certain white-haired, blind-fold wearing classmate that would love to hear about what she just witnessed.

gojo.

"y/l/n~!"

gojo grins as you turn from your spot at the table to face him, a smile curling on your lips as you wave at your senpai, beckoning him over.

"gojo-senpai," you greet as he reaches the table, "what brings you here?"

gojo smirks as he glances to your left where nanami sits, the two of you having been working on some homework together and registers the rather nasty glare his underclassman was sending him. nanami didn't like him at the best of times, it was true, but there seemed to be an extra edge to his glare that day as gojo took a seat across from you.

"oh, i saw my precious kohai's and i thought i'd come by to say hi," gojo explains with a shrug, playing it off as nonchalant. he feels nanami's gaze narrow at him, obviously expecting there to be more to the story than gojo is letting off.

which is true, of course, but gojo certainly wasn't going to admit to that.

"oh!" you beam, "well, kento-kun was just helping me with my homework." cheeks flushing, you shift in your spot, embarrassed. "i'm not very bright sometimes when it comes to the academic stuff."

"that's not true," nanami cuts in otherwise almost instantly and gojo smirks. "you just need extra time. there's nothing wrong with that."

your cheeks are practically burning at nanami's words, turning to look at your classmate with a doe-eyed expression.

gojo internally laughs. shoko was definitely right.

"hey, y/l/n," gojo calls, pulling your eyes on him as you blink, somewhat dazed, over at him. "i could you help with this stuff, ya know? i am after all your senpai!"

your eyes widen at his offer, obviously not having expected it. gojo was nice enough and he had never been anything but kind with you; maybe a little cocky and he liked to tease, but still nice. he'd never offered to help you with anything school wise though, whether that be training or just homework.

"gojo-senpai, i—"

"that won't be necessary," nanami cuts in, voice sharp. you blink at him in surprise at his sudden change in tone but gojo, having expected it, simply tries to hold back the laugh threatening to burst past his lips.

nanami then turns to you. "don't trust a word this idiot says," he explains to you, and any normal day gojo might be mildly insulted. today though? he's just amused. "he's basically failing everything."

not true, but—

"o-oh," you stammer, eyes flickering nervously between nanami and gojo.

"now, if you'll excuse us," nanami turns back to gojo, glaring at him, "y/n and i need to actually do some work. we can't all just mess around like you."

gojo's eyes flicker to the way you grab onto the sleeve of his shirt, tugging as you mumble worriedly at him, afraid he was actually hurting gojo's feelings. gojo just continues to grin, moving to stand back up as he brushes your concern off.

"no worries, y/l/n," gojo assures, sending you a thumbs up. "have fun, you two. and still, y/l/n, the offer stands."

gojo's running off before nanami can send a slur of insults at him again.

geto.

this was ridiculous, geto realized.

but gojo had begged him and wouldn't shut up until he agreed. so, here he was, standing in front of you, his fingers working to brush a strand of hair behind your ear as you blushed up at him, frazzled and confused, smiling softly down at you as he waited for nanami to make his way down the hall.

he was fully prepared to make gojo suffer for forcing him to do this and the thought that he should've continued to deny, despite how annoying his best friend was, crosses his mind. because now he was not only being forced to do something embarrassing, but to mess around with his underclassmen.

unlike his best friend, geto thought he was a decent role model for the first years. haibara seemed to like him well enough, constantly asking for him to help him train and nanami didn't seem to hate him as much as he hated gojo. and you? you were sweet, too nice for your own good and even geto had to admit, you were rather pretty.

so this? flirting with you when he truly meant nothing by it other than to make nanami jealous? felt incredibly wrong.

"ge-geto-senpai—"

"please, call me suguru," he smiles, internally cringing at himself.

yeah, he was definitely going to make gojo pay for this.

your cheeks burn brighter, "oh, well, i don't—"

"y/n?"

you startle at the sound of nanami's voice, back straightening as you quickly pull yourself out of geto's grasp. geto lets his hands fall by his sides with ease, taking a step back as you rush over to nanami, eyes wide with your hands held out before you desperately.

"kento-kun, what... what are you doing here?"

nanami's eyes flicker to geto, and to his credit, geto tries to offer a small smile in greeting, before he focuses back on you. "looking for you. we were supposed to study together, remember? you were the one who asked in first place."

"oh!" you blink, eyes widening. "yes, sorry, kento-ken. i... we can go now." you send a flustered look back at geto and nanami's eyes narrow, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot.

nanami looks like he wants to argue otherwise, sending a glare at geto that has him wincing (there goes his reputation with the first year). but your hand slipping into his is enough to satiate him, tugging him along with you.

"b-bye, geto-senpai!" you offer faintly to geto, waving at him over your shoulder before grinning brightly up at nanami.

well, it was clear gojo and shoko were right about the two of you but he definitely needed to have a conversation with his friends about not meddling in the first years personal lives.

geto, however, did let a smile curl on his lips when he noticed you'd been very specific about referring to him by his last name, despite his previous words. or the way you'd made sure nanami had heard you refer to him as such.

ah, young love.

haibara.

"are you and y/n dating?"

nanami nearly spits out the water he'd been drinking, feeling the burn of it as some of comes up his nose. he coughs, lowering the water bottle to the table as he tries to gather his bearings. blinking, nanami presses a hand to his chest, before turning to look at haibara with a look of disbelief.

"what?"

haibara, to his credit, looks genuinely confused.

"are you not?" he asks, head tilting. "i just assumed you guys were."

"what—why would you assume that?"

haibara doesn't fail to notice how red his friends cheeks have gotten.

"well, you're always helping her with homework and studying together," he starts off, raising his hand to list off just the few scenarious he's witnessed in the past week alone. "when i ask you for help, you tell me to figure it out myself. and! oh! you guys went to that cafe together the other day and when i asked to stop off somewhere, after a mission not to mention, you told me to go by myself so—"

nanami splutters for a response.

"not to mention," haibara adds, pressing a finger to his chin in thought. "gojo-senpai and shoko-senpai told me you were so—"

"they what?!"

haibara blinks, surprised and confused by nanami's outburst. "yeah? the other day." he hums, nodding. "i went to join you and y/n outside and they pulled me aside, telling me i should leave you two to your date alone... is that not what they meant?"

haibara tilts his head, only then noticing how nanami looks like he's practically about to combust on the spot.

"nanami...?"

pushing himself to a stand, nanami doesn't say anything before he promptly turns and leaves.

stunned and confused, haibara blinks.

"what did i say?"

nanami.

"i need to talk to you."

"oh, kento-kun! what's up?"

truthfully, nanami probably should've taken a moment to think through just exactly what he meant to say to you before all but barging into your room.

he'd been so frazzled and embarrassed that he hadn't really been thinking straight, his feet walking for him until he found himself outside your dorm room. he hadn't even knocked before opening it and oh god, the realization that you could've been... changing crosses his mind as nanami feels himself grow hot from embarrassment.

"kento-kun?" you call out, concerned, as you stand up from your bed. "are you okay?"

he blinks and suddenly you're in front of him. he hadn't even realized you'd been making your way over to him until that moment!

heart pounding, still breathless, nanami meets your gaze, letting his eyes wander across you. before he can stop himself, his eyes lower to your lips, almost involuntarily, and then, with a split second though, he's leaning forward and pressing his lips against your own.

you freeze at the action, body stilling and nanami panics, moving to pull away, but then a second later you're easing into his touch, returning to kiss as your hands move to grip the front of his school uniform. you tug him towards you, holding him in place and nanami practically melts at the spot.

a moment later you pull away, cheeks rosy and breathless, grinning up at nanami.

"i've been waiting for you to do that forever," you confess, breathless.

and nanami's never felt like more of a fool then he does in that moment for waiting so damn long.

yaga.

wordlessly, shoko and gojo stretch their hands out towards their teacher, grinning ear to ear, palms up. geto stands behind them, shaking his head.

"you two are ridiculous." yaga grumbles, "you meddled."

shoko just shrugs; "never said we couldn't meddle."

"besides," gojo snorts. "if anything we helped. who knows how long it would've taken nanami to say something. have you met the boy?"

yaga just rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #teen nanami #teen nanami x reader

[gyuwoncheol]

Down Bad

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, inspired by soft Mingyu during that GyuHan live

Summary: Clingy, lovesick Mingyu just wants your undivided attention

Warnings: tipsy! Gyu, mentions of alcohol, use of pet names, so much fluff, barely proofread

WC: 1.7k

Author's Note: look at me actually publishing something. This is once again very self-indulgent because Gyu was just so so adorable in that live and it had me in shambles. Shoutout to my sweet Cherry @shuadotcom for listening to me fawn over Mingyu when this live happened and building ideas of the scenes with me! I love you darling!

Author’s Note 2.0: LISTEN, SHORT HAIR MINGYU IS HANDSOME OKAY. I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY SOME DON’T LIKE IT ON HIM??? LIKE BRO GET YOUR EYES CHECKED. But seriously, it does kill me when I watch Gyu kinda second guess his new hairstyle. Like I know he just laughs it off most times, but I hope the self doubt doesn’t eat him up. I will die defending his short hair. idc.

“Is it bad?” You grimace as soon as Seungcheol releases you from his hug and leads you through the hall.

Cheol laughs, “well…” he stops walking to look at you, “he’s not drunk… yet. But he did get tipsy quite fast.”

“That’s cause he’s also tired,” you reasoned, “but thanks for calling me, I don’t think I’d want him to drive home by himself and—“

“Oh no no,” the leader interrupts, resuming his steps towards the dining area where you could already faintly hear your boyfriend whining, “he asked us to call you. Besides, you know that if he did get drunk, I’d force him to crash here.”

“Oh.”

“Babyyyy!” Mingyu shoots up from his seat and rushes to you with arms wife open when you surface in the room. He was beaming at the sight of you, puppy senses fully kicking in. A faint smell of alcohol and his cologne hits your nose when he bends down and engulfs you in a hug, his face nuzzling deep into your neck.

“Miss you,” he mumbles with a tight squeeze and you run your fingers through his short locks.

“Missed you too, bub. Should we get you home?”

Mingyu pulls you off him to hold you by your shoulders, his lips pursed and eyebrows scrunching, “no no, not yet. Comeeee, join usssss.”

You’re dragged by your tall boyfriend to the dining table, both Seungcheol and Jeonghan giggling but also sending you an apologetic look for the state that Mingyu is in.

“What are we doing?” You question when he offers you chopsticks and shows you all the food on the table.

“We’re celebrating Minghao’s birthday so we have to stay first, okay?” Seungcheol laughs at your boyfriend’s justification.

“Aaaand Hao is where exactly?”

Mingyu shrugs, “dunno. But that’s okay, we called him awhile ago already and we even sang for him on live. Do you want a drink?”

You reach out to stop his hands from pouring the alcohol on the glass, “no i’m good.” He looks at you intently and then decides against convincing you to drink. Instead, he sits back down and wraps his arms around your waist, sighing softly when his head rests on your shoulder.

“You okay, my love?” You ask after kissing the top of his head. “Tired?” He nods against your shoulder and hum an affirmative. “Maybe we should go—“

“Noooo,” your gentle giant whines, a full pout on his lips, making both his hyungs laugh at him.

“Okay, okay.”

“We’re still having fun… well, they’re having fun,” Mingyu gestures towards his two older members with scrunched brows.

You reach your arm up to touch his cheek, caressing his soft skin, “And you’re not?”

“They’re making fun of me.”

“We are not!” Seungcheol denies with a laugh.

“You laughed when the fans called me a potato on live.” The two boys start giggling again, recalling the conversation on the many forms of potatoes Mingyu could represent.

“I also said you were handsome with your short hair,” Cheol added, “the potato comment is just funny!”

Jeonghan, who was seated on Mingyu’s other side, now pokes at your boyfriend’s fingers before snorting with a laugh, “heh. french fries.”

Seungcheol and Jeonghan erupt in laughter much to Mingyu’s chagrin, and you yourself couldn’t help but giggle at the antics of the two boys. Mingyu crosses his arms defiantly, sulking like there’s no tomorrow.

“Oh cmon, Gyu, it’s funny!” The group’s resident trickster calls out.

“Babyyyyyy, protect meeee,” your boyfriend whines, hiding his face on your shoulder. Mingyu was no stranger to being teased by his members, and almost always, he’s a very good sport at taking it all in and staying calm and collected. But the facade easily drops the moment you’re around. He gets to be his true self, a big baby. Your big baby. Luckily for him, the boys listen to you.

“Okay, cut it out, guys,” you call, earning a smile from your boyfriend which immediately drops the next second when you say, “the potato is sad.”

“HEY!” Mingyu’s bottom lip juts out as he scowls at you, not at all impressed by your joke. You leave a kiss on his lips and he tries hard to hide the smile.

“I’m kidding, I don’t even know why they think that. You’re my puppy,” you quickly correct, cupping his cheeks and pecking his lips, “my handsome puppy.” That was enough to have your boyfriend unravel his arms and wrap them around your waist, a huge smile on his face as he leans on your shoulder. He was flustered beyond words. If there was one thing Mingyu agreed on, it’s that he was a puppy.

“You’re so whipped,” Jeonghan states the obvious and while you knew it was directed to your boyfriend, it also felt like it was a jab at you. Eitherway, neither you nor Mingyu denied it. Especially Mingyu. He was deeply in love with you and it was written all over his face.

You settle in nicely to a conversation with the boys, discussing the new cafe that just opened near the Hybe building and talking about the recent broadcast shows they’ve done for the comeback.

With each passing minute, the more Mingyu clings onto you like a koala. Mostly smiling and staring at you with lovestruck eyes that would immediately change into a silly face if you looked back at him. Eventually, his head constantly leaned on your shoulder or his face buried in your neck, relishing in the way your hand would subconciously reach up to run your fingers through his hair or scratch lightly at his scalp. You really loved his shorter hairdo, never missing a chance to compliment him about it. When he had cut his hair, he worried you’d stop running your fingers through them, which is why moments like these, even with his shorter strands, always made him sigh in content.

“What’s wrong?” You quiz when he pulls on your shirt sleeve after you laugh at one of Jeonghan’s jokes, your hands detaching from his hair to give the older member a high five. When you look at Mingyu, his eyes were even more half lidded than earlier, and the bags underneath a little more red and puffy.

“Nothin’,” he feigns but you know what he wants.

“Hmm… you sure you just don’t want my whole attention?” Mingyu scrunches his face in shock, like he’s trying to deny the way you just exposed him. But he doesn’t say anything, and instead, juts out his lower lip for his biggest pout of the night.

You decide to tease him a little bit more and roll your eyes playfully, putting your attention back to two of his brothers who were currently going through funny videos of Minghao.

Mingyu huffs loudly and tugs you closer to him, earning a giggle from you. “Okay big boy, I was only kidding, you have my attention,” he tries to maintain his sulking but fails badly when his lips quirk into a smile after you plant a kiss on them.

“I love you,” he whispers, blushing wildly at his own confession and hiding behind your shoulder blades.

“I love you too, Gyu. But can I bring you home now? You look like you’re about to fall asleep any minute.”

“Nooooo,” Mingyu whines loudly.

You were about to reason but Seungcheol beats you to it, “Mingoo, my hyung’s about to come home now. You guys have to leave soon.”

“See, baby? Cheol needs us out of the house.”

“That’s rude,” he complains, “but his hyung likes me. We can stay.”

You flash Cheol an apologetic look, letting him know you got it under control. Just then, you stand up and bend down to cup Mingyu’s face, forcing him to look at you. “Baby, we have to go. If you fall asleep on me here, you bet I won’t be carrying you home. So choose, big guy, do you want to be beside me in bed tonight? Or beside Seungch—“

“OKAY! BYE HYUNGS!” The 6 foot 2 man shoots up from his chair in full height, not even giving you enough time to process things before he’s pulling at your hand and dragging you out of the dining room, “We’re going. Thank you for the food, Coups hyung!”

“YAH!” Jeonghan scolds, “you said you would bring me home!”

#the title of this fic is actually me to Gyu #svthub #svt #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt one shot #svt imagine #svt fic #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagine #mingyu fic #mingyu one shot #paula writes ✨ #Attention

[fireflyinks]

good boy ⭒

reader x peeta mellark smut

a/n : i’m actually screaming this was so fun to write, pls repost if ya like it!! 💗

contains : sub peeta mellark, soft dom reader, praise kink, multiple rounds, peeta and the reader own a bakery, pinv, talk of having kids, no protection, riding

MATURE 18+

Peeta Mellark was a hard worker. Partly because that’s just who he was as an individual, but mainly because of his upbringing. The need to impress ran through his body as if it were his own blood. He craved praise, feened off of it as if it were a sweet, sweet nectar.

This notion was very present in his every day life. When he’d accidently burn a loaf or spill a bag of flour, his face would turn a rosey pink shade out of shame and he’s scramble to fix his mistake. His puppy dog eyes would shoot over to me, as if to scream “I’m sorry! I’m so very sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”, only to be met with a peck on the cheek and a whisper of “It’s okay, you’re fine”. His eyes would soften, and his hands would become less clammy, brow less furrowed, and cheeks even rosier.

If I dared to give him a slight compliment in the morning, the blonde’s head would be in the clouds for the rest of the day, almost in a trance from the mere thought of his special girl thinking he was admirable.

At first, I thought this whole ordeal was sort of sad, I mean depressing even. Peeta was just so love starved.

But then I learned how to use it to my advantage.

There he was, on top of me, trying his very best to impress me. His cock pistoned in and out vigorously, each one of my moans encouraging him. My back arched off of the sheets as I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to get him deeper.

He understood this rather quickly, trading speed for force and plunging himself directly into my core.

“Good boy.” I moaned out, almost automatically. His pace faltered for a moment, starstruck.

“Say that again.” He whimpered.

“Say what baby?” I questioned, confused as to why he’d stopped.

“Uh, please can you um call me a good boy again?” He mumbled. Something in his eyes had shifted, he looked almost helpless.

“Well…” I decided to tease him, rile him up more. “I can only do that if you act like one, so if you fuck me real good, yeah, you can be my good boy.”

Peeta nodded, beginning to thrust into me once again, determined to be a good boy.

“That’s it, there’s a good boy.” I cooed, gazing up at him with major ‘fuck me’ eyes.

His jaw slacked and he moaned deeply. “You’re so- fuck, you’re so hot.”

I giggled at the love drunk expression on his face. “Thank you, my handsome boy.”

I felt his cock twitch inside of me. God, praise really did have an effect on him.

“I- oh baby I’m gonna come.”

I moaned as he fucked me deeply, hitting my g-spot with each thrust.

“Go ahead, come inside of me like a good boy.”

His eyes rolled back into his head as he came with his new found permission. He pulled out immediately, connecting our lips before lying down beside me.

“That was- fuck, amazing.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

There was silence for a few moments before he realized.

He sprung into apology immediately.

“Holy shit baby, you didn’t come, did you? I’m so sorry love, I’ll do whatever you want, eat you out, fuck you again, whatever you want. I’m so stupid, I don’t know how I-“

I pressed my lips to his to shut him up as I climbed on top of him.

“No baby, you don’t have to ride me, I’m the one who messed up. Let me-“

“Peeta, I want you to be a good boy and listen to me.”

I angled his wet cock upward before sinking down onto it. I began working my hips.

“You are not stupid, you are so smart.” I bounced on him as I spoke, “you’re so good to me, everybody makes mistakes and that’s ok. You have gotten me off a million times before. You’re such a good fucking boy.”

He began to look away as blush creeped into his face. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look me in my eyes.

“You’re so handsome baby, ah fuck- you’re such a hard worker, and you’ll make an amazing father one day.”

My legs began to shake as I released on his lap, my cum flowing down his cock. I continued to ride him throughout my high.

“Now say it to me.” I ordered.

“You’re so beauti-“

I shook my head, “No, tell me about how much of a good boy you are.”

His face contorted, clearly too shy to say such things.

I touched his face lightly, “Peeta, good boys do what they’re told. Be a good boy.”

He nodded, “Um- I’m a good boy.” He whimpered, unsure of himself.

“I don’t believe you. Say it like you mean it.”

He cleared his throat, looking into my eyes. “I’m a good boy. I made a mistake and that’s ok. I’m so handsome and will make a really good father. Fuck- I’m gonna come.”

He released inside of me, painting my spongy walls white. His voice filled the room with pornographic noises. After letting him catch his breath, I crawled off of him. Peeta walked into the bathroom for a moment and came back with a damp rag and a smile on his face.

He began to slowly clean me up. I looked in between my thighs and laughed at the amount of semen that had collected.

“Jeez, if we don’t start being more careful, you might be an amazing father sooner than we’d imagined.”

He chuckled, pressing his lips onto mine. “I’d be ok with that.”

#the hunger games #peeta mellark #peeta mellark smut #praise #bakery au #fanfiction #smut #josh hutcherson #peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader

[sourlove]

Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️

TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY

A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.

READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE

Thanks for the ask!

The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.

"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"

Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"

"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.

"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.

"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.

"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.

Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."

"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."

"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."

"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.

"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"

Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.

When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.

"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.

"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."

You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."

"A sap for you, honeybun~"

"I said don't call me that in public!"

"But whyyyy?"

You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.

"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.

You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?

The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.

Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.

"You."

Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.

"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"

You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"

The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.

He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"

"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"

A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.

#obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere #yandere boyfriend #writers on tumblr #fanfic #yandere jock #jock #golden retriver boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere fic

[mrsaltieri-real]

Ethan Landry as a Boyfriend Headcanons (SFW AND NSFW)

I was bored so rewatched Scream 6 and these just popped into my mind, hope you enjoy!

Warning/s: 18+, Fem!AFAB!Girlfriend, language, mentions of smut, oral, p in v, riding, sub!Ethan, begging, mentions of orgasm denial, degrading kink, praise kink, sweet and soft Ethan, you get the picture

Word count: approx 600

SFW

Very, very clingy. Feels completely out of touch when he’s not around you. The boy will follow you around like a little lost puppy

Big on physical contact. He likes to always be holding your hand or have your arm tucked into his

Yah, he’s touch starved

He’s literally obsessed with you.

Like, to the point where it’s probably concerning to those around you

He’s a shy little bastard though

Gets overstimulated in large groups of people so will absolutely cling to you for dear life in malls

But he really likes going shopping with you and helping you pick out clothes

He absolutely LOVES when you play with his hair

He’ll lie with his head on your lap for hours just relishing in the feeling of your fingers running through his curls

Likes to fall asleep with you in his arms, or the other way round depending

He’s a big spoon little spoon switch for REAL

He blushes every time you pay him a compliment

“You look really nice today, baby”

INSTANTLY RED. How cute is he?

Bless his heart, he’s not a good cook at all so you’re the one who ends up doing the cooking

But he’ll try his best to help until you have to kick him out of the kitchen for somehow burning water

But he’ll sit at the table and watch you cook away with a big old smile on his face

Doesn’t really use pet names himself, but loves it when you call him “baby,” “babe,” and “honey.”

His love languages are quality time, physical touch and words of affirmation

He could sit and listen to you talk about your day forever

He’s the best to gossip with

“And then he told her to fuck off!”

“Shut up, no he didn’t? What happened next??“

Such a good boyfriend, right?

NSFW

He’s a needy little fucker

Like HONESTLY so fucking needy

Such a sub it’s not even funny

Two words: PUSSY WORSHIP

He’ll literally be begging to eat you out until you cum

Over and over again

Will always want to make sure you’ve had at least a couple of orgasms before he even gets his cock out

LOVES when you fuck his face, I don’t make the rules

Absolute master of eating pussy

Guys got the kind of mouth invented for going down

Loves messily sucking on your clit and getting your juices all over his face

He’s such a slut for you, he’d go out of his way to make you feel good

Don’t ask me why, but he’s a thigh and tits kinda guy and pussy obviously

He likes when you’re on top when having sex, completely dominating and taking full control

He himself doesn’t have a dominant bone in his body

Begs really prettily

He absolutely 100% whimpers

He’s so fucking vocal

Likes when you pull his hair when you’re fucking him

Really riles him up

Won’t say it, but loves to be denied of release

Actively wants you to deny him so that when you grant him permission, the satisfaction is just oh so much better

Again, won’t say it but he loves when you’re blowing him and after he already cums you keep sucking

THAT kind of over stimulation? He likes

He’ll be sobbing, saying “thank you, thank you” over and over again when you let him cum

Likes when you look into his eyes while blowing him too. Does all kinds of things to him

Goes absolutely wild when you praise him

He’s playing with your clit just right?

“You’re such a good boy, baby.”

He’d be trying not to bust then and there

He also loves being degraded

Call him pathetic and needy and he’ll be a whimpering mess, almost sobbing from your words and especially if you’re overstimulating him

But balance out the praise and degradation

He’s a very sensitive guy in more ways than one

When you’re riding him he’ll be gazing up at you, hands on your hips watching your tits bouncing and just feel like he’s in heaven

Loves loves loves when you touch yourself in front of him

Really enjoys lazy, early morning sex

But loves long sessions in the afternoon even more

As I said, deny him and he’ll last as long as he can

Don’t deny him? Baby will cum just from eating you out alone he fucking loves it

What can I say? He’d do anything that brings you pleasure. He’s just that kinda guy

#help these just popped into my head #he’s such a sub it’s not even funny #i love him #scream #scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry headcanons

[mntozakii]

sugar — lee haechan

pairing: haechan x female reader

tags: stepcest, age gap (6 years), unprotected sex, haechan is a little bit insane but it's fine ☹️

note: been having haechan brainrot so plz enjoy this

minors do not interact and all characters are in legal age

[unedited]

before your first encounter with the boy, his father has warned you that his son can be very mischievous. it turned out to be wrong because the haechan that you met was silent, you didn't have to know that he was actually angry. he believed that a pretty girl like you shouldn't be around men like his father, he knew that his workaholics father will neglect you in the future.

much to your delight, haechan warmed up and became closer to you since his father is always on a business trip. haechan just absolutely adore the way his father's young trophy wife showed up to his soccer games, coding competition, and took care of him like a good mommy. in return, he gave you a lot of affection and love. your sweet boy haechan who never disrespect you, listened to you more than his father, and indulged into your silly little hobbies. he didn't mind to follow around the store like a kicked puppy as you spend his father's black card.

haechan who can't be mean with you. at first, he wanted to make your life miserable but you were so kind and lovely to him. you think of him so fondly that it never crossed on your mind that he's taking advantage of you.

haechan who whines about his sore back so you will massage him and he finds it amusing that you laugh whenever he moans, if only you knew that haechan creamed his pants.

haechan who loves to share his food and feels his pupils dilate whenever your mouth opens nicely as he feeds you.

haechan who offers to do the laundry so he can steal your panties, he secretly touches himself with the flimsy silk.

to be honest, you weren't bothered with haechan's behaviour since you've seen how the boy acted around his relatives and friends. you assumed that it was only natural for him to be so attached with you, after all you're his new mother.

haechan has to thank his parents for making baby as his nickname because now he gets to hear you call him baby everyday.

"baby, don't forget to eat your breakfast"

"haechan baby, can you help me with the grocery?"

"good job baby, you're so smart"

four years went by and your sweet sunshine is no longer a pretty boy, he stood taller than you and looked intimidating than ever. however, he was still the same cheeky boy you've know. haechan attended law school, following his father's path. to be frank, it wasn't his first option but you had beg so prettily for him to listen to his father.

even though haechan was hundred miles away from you, he will still occasionally visit you. besides, he texted you everyday and updated you with everything. you knew the names of the professors that he hated, his pretentious classmates, and his roomate jeno.

"i want to see your face" haechan sent a selfie of him on bed with his messy brown hair.

"i'm on a date" you sent a selfie with his father which he replied with an eye roll emoji. you probably laugh at his choice of emoji but he genuinely felt pissed off. all he wanted was to see your face and he got a picture of the old man kissing your cheek.

"i miss having meals with you" haechan sent a picture of his pathetic dinner that consisted of ramen, few packs of sandwiches, and milk.

"my baby, please eat a proper meal" you sighed as you looked at his simple dinner, you'll remind your husband to pay extra attention to his allowance.

when haechan had few days off from school, he decided to suprise you by taking a flight home. upon his arrival, he was flustered to hear choked cries coming from your room. he knows that his father was home so he opted to peek from behind the door, his face turned into a soft frown when he saw your naked body on his father's lap.

"honey, please, i want to have a child with you" his heart burned with jealousy watching you hold his father's face as you cried, he never get to see your vulnerability before.

"i feel alone, the house seems so empty without haechan. it is a perfect timing for us to raise a child together, right?" his heart broke seeing your attempt to convince his father, haechan felt your frustration by the strong grip on the older man's shirt. he never know that you felt alone while he was away, he felt even worse when the accompany that you now wanted was in a form of a child.

"my sweetheart, i understand how you feel but can you wait for a few more months? once everything is settled at the firm, we will talk about this again" haechan had to physically control himself from letting a scoff, he knew that his father's promise meant nothing. the younger man headed to his room while he waited for his father to return to his office.

as soon as he heard the car left, he went outside to find you. his lips turned into a smirk when he saw you eating a pint of ice-cream, he was quick to attack you with a tight hug. you let out a shriek before hitting his chest when you realised it was haechan.

"haechan, you didn't tell me that you were coming home!" you reciprocated his hug and chuckled when the brunet pecked you on the cheek.

"i wanted to surprise you" he mumbled as he wiped the cream at the corner of your lips, he pulled you to the couch and kept you close to him. he wrapped his hand around your shoulder as he listened to you while the movie play mindlessly in the background.

"baby, have some" haechan smiled when you fed him the ice-cream. he found it very cute when you call him baby because he liked to take advantage of it, it almost felt like you will always forgive him for his mistakes.

haechan loved whenever you wear polo shirt especially if it was paired with a mini skirt. today, you were wearing his favourite white shirt paired with a midi skirt. you looked so beautiful, he can't help but to stare at your thighs through the slit of the skirt.

"why are you so pretty today? i want to play with you" his hand slid inside the skirt before he softly rubbed your inner thigh while maintaining eye contact with you. it wasn't unusual for haechan to be clingy but he should never touch you in that way.

"haechan, what are you doing?" your heart pounded heavily when his hand dangerously headed north.

"baby, your hand—" you tried to push it away but it was no use, his grip only tighten on your body. haechan leaned closer to leave wet kisses on your neck, he missed you so much.

"no— haechan, we cannot do this" your second attempt to shove him away failed since he was so much stronger than you, he didn't even budge at all.

"hmm, why can't we do this?" his mellifluous voice whined before he pulled you to his lap, his hands rested on your side as he eyefucked you.

"my father doesn't want to put a baby into you and i want to do the opposite of that, isn't that good?" his voice made the question sounded so innocent meanwhile in reality, he was talking about making you pregnant with his child. he must've overheard your talk with your husband, you wanted to believe that haechan was just confused with his feelings towards you.

"haechan, your father will get very mad at you" you mumbled as you reached for his hands, holding them tightly so he won't touch you again. haechan admired your effort to put him in his place, it was an adorable attempt. he easily pulled his hands away from you before carrying you to his room, he made sure to lock the door before cornering you to his bed.

"baby, baby, baby" he mocked the way your small voice always call for his name, he took off his shirt and sat on the bed. you can't help but to notice how different he looked now, his body was becoming lean and his features has developed into a handsome man. haechan held your hand as you stood still with guilt written all over your face.

was it your fault for spoiling haechan rotten until he thinks that he can get whatever he wants?

was it your fault for not creating a clear boundaries with your step son?

was it your fault for getting a little aroused with his little antics today?

"mommy, give me a chance to please you" haechan begged with the prettiest doe eyes ever, you are aware that you can say no, leave his room, and pretend that nothing happened but something inside you was thrilled to see more of him.

haechan grew impatient waiting for your reply, he decided to have you on his lap again before a brilliant idea popped out.

"you can tell me to stop and i will" haechan promised before he unbuttoned your shirt, he tried to read your expression but failed to do so. haechan chuckled seeing purple bruises all over your chest, you must had a steamy night yesterday.

"my father is a greedy bastard, isn't he?" he muttered before doing the exact thing that his father did to you last night, except haechan was aiming for your neck.

"baby, not on the neck, he will notice it" you pulled on his hair to take a look at his face, he seemed to be disappointed when he failed to mark you.

his hands gently groped on your tits and nipples, he alternated in between sucking, biting, and pulling on your hard buds. haechan felt his ego skyrocketed when you started to whimper and begged for more.

haechan positioned you to lay down comfortably on his bed before he took off your panties, he kept the skirt on because it looked lovely on you. haechan couldn't believe that he was finally staring at your naked body, he had been fantasizing this for years.

"such a pretty pussy" haechan praised you and chuckled when he noticed your hole clenched at nothing, he didn't know that you were already leaking wet.

"hmm, it's so tight, does he not fuck you at all?" haechan queried as he stuffed your hole with his middle finger, he moaned seeing you tighten around his digit. since he was eager to satisfy you, he added another finger and played with your clit using his other hand.

instead of making you reach your high, haechan kept on edging until you became so frustrated. he will rub your clit in the most delicious circles and stopped whenever you're almost close. the moment when he noticed your legs started to twitch, he will take his hand off your pussy and let you cry for more.

"haechan, don't be mean to me" you had to hold back a sob because you've been denied for so many times and it felt so painful. you tried to touch yourself but he gently smacked your clit as a warning, he wanted to see you come on his cock instead of his fingers. he got on top of you and let your legs rest on his shoulders, he gave a few kisses on your calf before pulling out his dick.

"i prepped you so well, you should be able to take it like a good girl, right?" he rubbed the tip on your entrance and slightly pushed the tip to elicit another moan from you.

one thing that haechan had always dreamt off was kissing you, he had various imagination to kept him on edge whenever he jerked off. he used to imagine fucking you on the mattress that you share with his father, he also fantasized about fucking you in the kitchen too. today, he will do everything that he wanted for so many years.

haechan bit his lip as he slowly pushed himself inside your warm cunt, it felt so fucking good that he wanted to cry. haechan leaned closer to kiss your lips and giggled when he tasted the lip gloss, you had put it on him for fun before but it tasted so much sweeter on your lips.

"baby, what's so funny?" you asked then laughed when he shrugged it off and hid his face on your chest as his hips kept on thrusting into your poor hole.

"this is better than everything i used to dream off" haechan admitted before pulling you into another kiss, you realised that the brown haired boy liked to be messy when kissing. he was so desperate and wanted to swallow you whole if he could, he slowly trailed down to your neck and started to suck and bite on it.

"baby, be gentle with it" you reminded him as you caressed his hair, you admitted that he was doing so well and it scared you. the younger boy decorated your neck with fresh red marks before he intertwined your hands together.

"i'm going to fill you up with my seed, get you pregnant with my child, that'll make you a real mommy" haechan whispered before he continued to fuck you real hard, every each of his thrust hits your cervix and drove you to madness.

"baby, no— haechan, you have to pull out" your hands weakly push him away but it only fueled him to pound your hole mercilessly, he knew that you were close and he wanted to come together. a few more penetration and haechan felt your walls contracted tightly around his veiny cock, he shot ropes of warm semen inside your pussy.

you can't help but to whine at the warm feelings inside you, haechan panted softly as pulled you into a tight hug. he caressed your messy hair and adored the marks he left on your body.

"did i do a good job, mommy?"

#nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct #nct imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #haechan #haechan imagines #haechan smut #haechan x reader

[dulcesiabits]

you arrive like a dream.

summary: you are fourteen years old when bachira breaks your heart, and you run halfway across the world to avoid him. so how are you supposed to react when the universe, against all your express wishes, brings the two of you back together again?

notes: 14k words, fic, author's notes, childhood friends, childhood heartbreak, messy relationships, really kind of a study of how people fall apart and then get back together

“I want to take a break from us.”

It’s the first thing your boyfriend says to you, barely waiting for the waitress to set down your order and clear away your laminated menus before speaking.

Instead of responding, you take a long sip of your milkshake, whipped cream sinking into a chocolate sea, your mouth flooding with sweetness. You regard the boy across from you thoughtfully, the one you’ve been dating for six months ever since he confessed to you during a school dance. He’s not the only boy you’ve ever dated in America, but he’s the one you’ve dated the longest. 

Most American boys seem to regard you with a mixture of curiosity and fascination as an exchange student from Japan. The kinder ones try not to treat you any differently than they would from your other classmates, but the worse ones will make constant jokes about hentai and mock your faint accent. 

By this point, though, you’ve learned to tune out the insults and the passive aggressive comments. You’ve always been good at dealing with other people, knowing how to read the mood and adjusting your behavior accordingly. Your teachers often praised you for being so well-behaved and conscientious. 

The meaner boys treat you like a zoo animal precisely because they want to see your reaction, so it’s better not to give them the reaction that they want. Otherwise, the second they sense hurt, they’ll sink their teeth in and never let go. Of course, they don’t seem to realize that in the same way they observe you, you can observe them right back. 

As for your boyfriend, Thomas? Well. He does his best. Or at least you think he does his best. No one mocks you to his face when he’s around, and he valiantly tells people to “knock it off” whenever he thinks you feel uncomfortable. He’s sweet, if a little obtuse, and you like him well enough. You wouldn’t date him if you didn’t. But his confession had been so out of the blue, and you had no real reason to accept him– just like you didn’t have any real reason to reject him. 

In short, your relationship started on an ambivalent whim. He’s not the sort of person you can share your thoughts with, but it’s not as if you’re looking for a lifelong companionship. He’s mild, and nice to be around, which is just what you need after everything that happened to you in Japan. He’s just like the whipped cream slowly disappearing into your milkshake in that aspect.

Your boyfriend calls your name. “Hey, are you okay? Do you want me… to explain?” Thomas says softly. 

You’ve been staring into space for too long, and your milkshake is half-empty. You smile at him. “No, it’s fine. A break, right? I understand.”

“I don’t want this to be permanent. It doesn’t have to be,” Thomas says, running a hand through his shorn blond hair. “It’s just soccer season is kicking up again, and I won’t have a lot of time to spend with you. I didn’t want you to feel abandoned, or anything. And I want to focus on practice. So…” He looks at you like a kicked puppy, as if you’re the one breaking up with him, and not the other way around. “We can date again once the season is over.”

“Okay,” you say, dragging your straw through your softening milkshake. “Let’s see what happens at the end of the season.”

Thomas perks up. “Great! Do you want anything else to eat? It’s my treat.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Thomas says.

Milkshakes are no remedies for break-ups, but you bite your tongue. “Yes. I’m sure.”

Thomas flags down the waitress, a freckled and red-haired girl who lets her stare linger a little too long. Not that you can blame her; he is cute. But Thomas, good old oblivious Thomas, only smiles innocently in return. 

Maybe you should get jealous. Pull some American teen movie line and say that “he’s your man” and put her in her place, or something equally dramatic like that. But he’s not really “your man” anymore, is he? Besides, staring is free, and, as you often hear, this is a free country. 

By the time the two of you are out of the diner, Thomas is pulling you into a hug. You limply wrap one arm around his back. “See you later,” he whispers. “You can still call me if anything happens, okay?”

Should you remind him of the international fees that it would take for him to call you Japan? “Okay.” 

You’re still standing outside the diner when Thomas waves at you through the windows of his car and pulls away from the curb. Maybe you should have asked for a ride, but getting a ride with your now-ex is a little weird. The weather is clear and the sunshine warm, so it’s a mild enough spring day for you to walk back. You’d prefer the walk, anyways, compared to the awkward silence in Thomas’s stifling truck.

Halfway down the pavement, your phone starts buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out: it’s your mom. There’s a seventeen hour time difference between California and Japan, and the international fees of a phone call are exorbitant, but your mom has never cared much about finances. “Money is there for you to spend it,” she always claims. Easy enough for her to say when she runs an investment firm that rakes in enough yen for her to send you abroad.

“Hello, Okaa-san,” you say when you open your phone. 

“Hello,” she coos. “Good morning! Ah, wait. It’s afternoon for you, right?”

“It’s afternoon, and you’re a day ahead of me,” you confirm.

“Oho! I forgot! So you’re talking to a time traveler right now,” she says.

“Seems so. Have any news from the future?”

“You’re going on spring break next week, right?” She doesn’t wait for you to respond before barreling on. “Why don’t you fly home to Japan for the holidays?” your mom says. “I’m already booking the tickets.”

“Why’d you even ask if you were going to do it for me?” 

“Just because you always tell me you hate it when I do things without telling you. So I’m alerting you in advance,” she chirps.

You sigh. “Okay. Send me the ticket details when you’re done.”

You can imagine your mom’s grin over the phone. “Perfect! By the way, I ran into Yu-san a little while ago. We talked about how much you used to love her art lessons! Do you remember how you used to beg to spend extra time at Yu-san’s studio?”

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, the sunshine suddenly searing your neck. You fight to keep your voice steady. “Yeah. I do. Why?”

“Well, then we started talking about Meguru-kun. You always bugged me about when he could come over and play. You were such a mild-mannered child, but as soon as you saw Meguru-kun, you would just get so wild. I’d never seen you have so much fun. I swear, it was so cute.”

“Okaa-san,” you say faintly, but she continues on.

“Since it’s been so long since you were back in Japan, Yu-san and I thought it would be nice if the two of you could see each other again, so we arranged a little meeting for the four of us. Won’t it be nice to catch up with your childhood friend over dinner? There’s no need to thank me.”

There really isn’t. You gape like an open-mouthed fish after your mom’s triumphant little speech, thoughts scattering like bubbles on the surface of a pond.

“Does Meguru know that you’ve done this?” you say. It’s the only question that manages to escape. His first name feels like ash in your mouth. When did you last use it? 

“Yu-san told him right away. I think she said he was excited to see you!”

“That’s… great,” you say. “I have to go now, Okaa-san. I have something to do. I’ll see you when I fly back.”

“Okay. Love you!”

With a cheerful blip, your mom ends the call and you sink to your knees, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes. Shit. This is going to be the worst possible way to spend your spring break. Thomas is one thing, but Bachira? No way. There is absolutely no way in hell you can face him again.

You might have gotten along back in Japan, running around Chiba together as children, but it’s been years since then. Maybe if you were two regular childhood friends, you would jump with joy at the opportunity to see him. If you didn’t have the particular history you did, this would have been a pleasant surprise. But you two don’t have that sort of relationship anymore, and the thought of Bachira makes old wounds flare to life.

You can’t blame your mom for not knowing, not really. You’ve mentioned your American boyfriends here and there, but you tend to keep a tight lid on your love life, as you’ve always been her pristine, studious child. You try not to make it a habit to keep secrets from your mom.

In fact, the only secret you’ve ever kept from her is that Bachira Meguru broke your heart when you were fourteen years old. 

–

You have always wanted to be the perfect child for your mom.

Ever since you could remember, your afternoons and weekends were full of different lessons, from piano to dance, and English to math tutoring. Your mom cooed with excitement at all your new hobbies, demanding you show her every time you learned a new musical piece or math equation. You charged headfirst into whatever skill you could learn to mold yourself into a well-rounded adult, so no one could find a way to look down on your mom. All of her business associates patted you on the head and spoke indulgently at you. As if you couldn’t sense the way they viewed you as an extension of your mom, and a way to judge her.

Art lessons, however, were when your life took a sudden, unexpected turn.

You remembered this: you were eight, and it was a cool spring day during your very first lesson, and Bachira-san had given you free reign of the canvas, handing you a palette and a brush. Her lessons always took place in her studio, the door open to let in the breeze, sunlight sinking into stacks of piled canvas and painting supplies placed haphazardly on every free surface.

You stared up at Bachira-san with a frown, looking uncertainly in her smiling face. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you asked.

“Whatever you want,” she replied, ruffling the top of your head. You gave a squeak of protest. 

“But what do you want?” you persisted. 

“I want you to do whatever you want,” Bachira-san said with a grin. “Why don’t I give you some space to paint? I’ll come back in a little bit, ‘kay?”

And so Bachira-san had left you in front of a canvas, your frown growing as you dipped a brush into the green paint. Incomprehensible. The adults in your life always had such clear expectations for you, and Bachira-san’s instructions feel like she just handed you a blank map and told you to chart unexplored territory. 

You dragged a tentative, watery streak of green on the bright white canvas, but it looked ugly and intrusive. You’d marred the pristine surface already.

Something brushed your foot. You looked down to see a football rolling across the wooden floor of the studio, and not a second later, the small head of a child peeking around the corner of the door. 

“Kaa-san! I’m back– eh? Who are you?”

The boy approached you curiously. There was a bandage on his face, and streaks of dirt running down his legs and striping his cheeks.

“Who are you?” you demanded, brandishing your brush like a sword. “I’m having an art lesson right now.”

Undeterred, the boy tilted his head like a giant chipmunk. “Art lesson? This is where Kaa-san works.”

“Huh…” Your teacher must be his mom, and he must be her son, you deduced. 

Seemingly losing interest, the boy ran after the football, which had lodged in the corner. With a few swift kicks, the boy skilfully bounced it up on his knee, his elbow, and his head. It was just like the seals you saw once at the aquarium, who could perform the same tricks for a few fish as incentive.

“Hey! Can you play football?” the boy said suddenly, turning back to you with the ball balanced precariously on his head.

“Football? I can’t play. I have to study art.”

“But that’s boring… Wait!” The boy brightened as he lurched towards you, wrestling the brush from your grasp. You watched in horror as the boy slashed the brush across the canvas, dipping randomly into the paint, creating an incomprehensible mess of lines and paint splatters. “Done! Now you can play with me.”

You shoved him, as hard as you could, and the boy toppled to the floor, his football bouncing sadly into a pile of canvas. “What are you doing? You– you ruined it!”

“I helped you,” the boy protested. He leaped up into the air, regarding you quizzically. “Kaa-san paints like that all the time.”

“Bachira-san– Bachira-san is a real artist! You can’t just– argh!” You stumbled at him, annoyed, tiny fists swinging, but the boy only dodged out of the way.

A grin splitted his face. “Are we playing now? Yay!”

You don’t know how long this chase lasted. All you knew was that you wanted to wipe that unbearably happy look from his face after he ruined your lesson, because how on earth could you explain this to Bachira-san? But the boy only danced around, laughing as you tried to lunge at him, always just one step away from you.

You weren’t unathletic, but the boy had stamina on another level, because while you sweated and panted, hands on your knees, he only skipped in circles around you. “Hey,” the boy said. “Are you done already? Come on. Let’s play some more.”

How annoying! How super, super annoying! You gave a great yell as you jumped at him, and, startled, the boy couldn’t move away fast in enough time. The two of you crashed onto the floor, rolling and tumbling. You pulled at his hair and the boy grabbed at your cheeks.

“I’m back! Are you done with– Meguru? Kiddo?”

The two of you froze as Bachira-san stepped into the studio, a plate of cookies in her hand. The two of you watched her with big silent eyes as she surveyed the room. And, for the first time, you realized that you had knocked over some of her paint tubes and canvas, and the two of you were covered in streaks of paint and dust from the floor.

You sprang up as Bachira-san moved closer to the canvas you were supposed to paint on– the one her son had ruined. Your hands were clammy as you lowered your head, like a criminal readying for their punishment.

“Hey, nice artwork, kiddo,” Bachira-san said, breaking into a smile. “Very avante-garde.”

“He… he was the one who did it,” you mumbled, face heating up with shame, pointing at the boy– Meuguru– who was still on the floor. 

He stuck out his tongue. “I only helped!”

“Well, the both of you did a great job,” Bachira-san said. 

“Really…?” you mumbled, looking down at your black shoes, now scraped and scuffed from your scuffle across the floor. 

“Yes, really! Why don’t the two of you have some snacks?”

The three of you munched on cookies for the rest of the lesson as Bachira-san explained the color palette and different forms of art to you. Meguru gifted you the very last cookie with a beaming expression on his face as if you hadn’t tried to tear his hair out, and you thanked him quietly. 

During your next lesson, Meguru was waiting by the entrance of the studio. When he saw you, a goofy smile stole across his face, and he bounded towards you like a puppy.

“Here!” He thrust some flowers into your face. They were small and white, with five different petals. You took them gingerly. 

“What are these for?” you asked.

“For you! So we can be friends! I had a lot of fun with you last time, but you didn’t look really happy. Kaa-san said I have to be aware of other people’s feelings, so this is a ‘let’s be friends’ flower!” 

“You want to be friends with me?” you mumbled.

“Yup! No take backs,” Meguru added. “We’re friends for life now, okay?”

 “Are you sure?” you said. “Yesterday I was rude to you.”

“Were you?” Meguru tilted his head. “Does that matter?”

“I was. I’m sorry,” you said.

“We’re friends! So it’s okay. Hey, this time, you’ll play football with me, right?”

He grabbed your hand, and you carefully wrapped your fingers around his. For some reason, there was a strange fluttering in your chest. Why did holding Meguru’s hand feel a little different from holding your mom’s, or your friend’s hand at school? 

But all you know is this: ever since you took Meguru’s hand that day, you don’t think you’ve ever really let go.

–

You haven’t stepped foot in Japan for three years.

There’s always been an excuse not to: you were busy with studying. You had clubs and other activities. It would be too much of a hassle, and really, you wanted to enjoy every minute abroad you could get.

Your mom bought your excuses easily, so you never had to tell her the real reason you stayed away, the same reason you even bothered to study abroad in the first place: you didn’t want to be in the same country as Bachira Meguru.

But when your plane descends and jolts to a stop, when you pass through customs and scramble to find your luggage at the baggage claim, when you take that first wobbly step into the spring sunshine, squinting into the sky as you raise your hand to shield your eyes, you have no more excuses left. It’s like the universe won’t let you run away, because why the hell does Golden Week fall during the same week during your American spring break? Bachira is on break, same as you, so you can’t even use the excuse that he’s in school to avoid him. It’s a coincidence, or the universe is laughing at you for thinking you could get away so easily.

You pause to scroll through your phone; there’s a few messages from your mom, and an email from Thomas. You hover over the message with your thumb, before swiping away. You told him to email you if he needed you, since it’s not like he had Line or Whatsapp, but you didn’t think he’d actually go through with it.

Everyone is speaking in rushed Japanese around you. It’s a sea of people with black hair and black eyes and luggage and appointments and harried expressions, hurrying in every direction. This is home. America has never felt more far away.

You wander to the edge of the curb, phone still held loosely to your ear as a car pulls up. Your mom rolls down the side window, scarf around her throat and a grin wide on her face. “Hello, hello. Look who’s decided to show up on our side of the globe again.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” you acknowledge. 

The driver steps out to put your luggage in the trunk, and your mom rests her arm against the window. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” you say. “It’s not that far from California to Japan.”

“Perfect! So I assume you’ll be ready for dinner in a few hours?”

“Dinner?”

“Well, there’s this wonderful seafood restaurant I wanted to take Yu-san to, and Meguru-kun is free, so we planned our little get-together for today.” Your mom winks, but you feel as if someone pushed you off the airplane without a parachute. Actually, you’d have preferred that to whatever torture this is.

“Okaa-san, I can’t,” you protest, taking a step back. “I just got back. I’m tired. I–”

“Nonsense! It’s just some dinner. Aren’t you excited to see Meguru-kun?”

You force a queasy smile. “But I need to get ready. I want to shower and–”

“Then we can stop by home before we go to dinner. It’s not as if we’re going right now. Come, come. Hop in the car. The sooner we get back, the more time you’ll have to freshen up.”

The next few hours pass by in a weightless blur. You turn the water as hot as it can go and stand under the thundering steam until your fingers turn pruny. You pick out a tasteful outfit, decide you’re trying too hard, and settle for something casual, but then it feels like you’re not trying hard enough. This goes back and forth for half an hour until you throw on the first thing you picked out of your closet.

It almost feels like you’re getting ready for a date, and the thought makes you want to laugh hysterically.

When you’re done, you flop onto your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You haven’t been in this room for years, and there’s no dust, but it feels like a graveyard, a testament to a different time. There are faded patches of discolored paint on the wall where you once hung up photos of you and Bachira, and empty spots on your shelves where the plastic toys he won for you at summer fairs had once stood. You forgot where you put those old trinkets. They’re either shoved in a box in the back of your closet, or buried in a garbage heap.

Your mom calls your name. “Time to go! Are you ready?”

You’re not. You never will be, but you descend down the stairs and get into the car. You still feel weightless. Dread is the only thing propelling you forward, and it grows heavier with each passing step, weighing you down with its leaden mass.

The restaurant is all polished glass and cool blue tones, so you feel like you’re standing underwater when you step inside. The tablecloths are pressed, the menus so new and shiny you think you could cut yourself on their edges. You’re scurried off to a corner table, next to a painting of the ocean, layered with many painful shades of blue, the frothy white waves so textured you could lick it off like cream.

You order something. You’re not sure what, but the waiter is smiling at your choice.

“Yu-san is running a bit late,” your mom says, with her bright red lipstick which always looks elegant on her and never tacky. You feel childish, all of a sudden, trying to play at being a composed adult, next to her and her genuine enthusiasm for old family friends.

You hope Bachira and his mom never get here. Because of a traffic jam, perhaps. Or a sudden freak accident that cuts off their path, so they have to stay home. Or maybe they’ll just forget, and you can call the whole thing a wash.

“Ah, there she is! Yu-san! Meguru-kun!” Your mom waves wildly, her arm springing back and forth.

Against your will, you turn, biting the inside of your cheek hard. They’re both in street clothes, which sends a dull jolt of surprise through you, but then again, your old teacher has never been one for formalities. You focus hard on her instead of the boy next to her, never taking your eyes off her once as they both settle at the table. Your mom hugs Bachira-san, and they both giggle like schoolgirls. There’s paint on Bachira-san’s sleeves, faint splatters of red and blue and purple. Her hair is in a bun, pulled low.

She reaches out for you, and you melt into her embrace. She smells like paint, like salt water, with an artificial floral scent from her shampoo. “It’s been so long! You’ve gotten so much bigger. Have you been keeping up with your art?”

“I still sketch sometimes,” you say. “But I’ve been busy.”

Bachira-san laughs, a charming sound like windchimes. “Ah, so my lessons weren’t totally wasted! I’d love to see what you’ve been sketching. America has been nice to you, I see.”

You’ve chewed your cheek for too long. The sharp copper of blood fills your mouth like new pennies, and you manage to work your lips into the shape of a smile. “It’s been fun studying abroad.”

And then Bachira calls your name, and you feel like you’re fourteen again, getting your heart broken for the first time. “Hey, hey!” he says cheerfully. “Long time no see!”

You fight to maintain your smile. You can’t look him directly in the eye, so you look somewhere over his shoulder. Has his hair gotten longer? It looks like his mom had tried to tame his bangs with clips. “Hi. It has been a long time.” There. You even sound like you’re happy to see him.

Bachira and his mom order. She and your mom are drinking glasses of red wine, absorbed in their own world, so it’s just you and Bachira. He’s tearing his napkin into little pieces, a miniature blizzard that only grows in intensity with each ticking second. You’re both silent. Is he feeling just as nervous as you? Or are you the only one idiotically aware of the tension? Maybe he doesn’t even notice at all.

“Meguru-kun is on his school’s soccer team?” your mom asks suddenly, forcing the two of you to look at her. “That’s amazing! I heard you want to go to nationals.”

“Yup yup!” Bachira says. “It’s fun to play with everyone.”

“That’s great!” Your mom nudges you with her elbow. “This one over here is juggling a ton of different clubs in America, too. A math team, and a science one, and an art club on top of it, I think.”

Bachira is looking at you now. You stare hard at your glass of water, avoiding his eyes. The silence grows, stretching between the two of you, taut as a wire. Your mom looks back and forth between the two of you, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

You stand. “Okaa-san, I think I need a bit of a break. I’m still dizzy from my flight,” you say politely, flawlessly. You smile at Bachira-san and your mom, and throw a fuzzy look in Bachira’s direction.

“Are you? I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Do you–”

“I just need some air,” you say, still smiling as you back away from the table. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

You flee before anyone can respond, pushing through the doors and into the dizzying sunlight. It’s a coward’s move, but so what? You’ve never pretended to be strong. Your go-to is to put on a smile and smooth over any situation. It’s better not to rock the boat. It’s better to just keep everyone happy– but you can’t do that now. You can’t do this, not now, not in front of Bachira Meguru. 

You look up and down the streets, disoriented as you stumble to a stop. Where are you? The restaurant is at the end of the block, and you’ve somehow paced down the entire length of the street in your desire to escape. This is a high-end area with exclusive fashion stores and exorbitant restaurants, and their polished facades only make you feel smaller and uglier.

You sigh. Maybe it would be better to go home, to leave now before you worry anyone further. You would just ascribe all blame to your plane flight, and no one would be any wiser.

Just as you make up your mind, you see a figure blurring down the street, dashing at an impossibly high speed– a blur of yellow, no, a boy, running straight towards you– alarmed, you try to move to the side, but then he screeches to a stop right in front of you.

It’s Bachira. Shit shit shit— But then he abruptly spins around until all you can see is his back and the way his hair sticks up at the ends, perpetually untamable.

“What are you doing?” you say, irritated. Is this another one of his childish pranks?

“You don’t want to see me, right?” he says, more quietly than you thought he was capable of. 

“I–”

“This way, you won’t have to look at me. Is that okay?”

“So?” you say. “What you do has nothing to do with me.”

“Let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to,” you say petulantly. You flush; why does Bachira bring out your inner child? “There’s nothing for us to say,” you add more coldly.

“I miss you.” The world, in its perpetual motion, freezes for just an instant at his words. Planets stop their revolutions. The tectonic plates pause. Everything slows down, to this single moment in time and space.

You can only manage to faintly say, “So what?” The world resumes spinning again.

“I want to talk to you again,” he says. 

“I don’t care,” you say again.

“I’ll bug you if you don’t come see me again,” he says. “I’ll blow up your phone. I’m gonna send you a ton of mail. I’ll even go to your house and–”

“Stop!” you snap. “You sound like a stalker. Bachira, you know things can’t move backwards, right? We can only go forward. And I don’t want to act buddy buddy with you again.”

“One chance. Pleaseeee. Come on. If you talk with me just once, I won’t bother you again! I promise! Otherwise I’m going to call you! Every! Single! Day!”

You sigh. With the way Bachira is, you have no doubt that he would make good on his threat, no matter how childish or ridiculous he sounds right now. Just once. You could talk to him just once. Besides, this way, you could get rid of all your lingering feelings, and it’d be the same relief of a loose, bothersome baby tooth finally falling out of your mouth.

“Fine. I’ll see you just once. But!” you add, raising your voice before he can throw his hands up in the air in joy. “I decide when and where we will meet.”

“Yay!” Bachira whoops, waving his arms. “Let’s go back, then!”

“Go back where?”

“To the restaurant, duh. The food arrived. I was supposed to tell you that, actually. Oops!”

It would be so easy to just go home right now. But… you glance at the back of Bachira’s hair again. He’s grown taller. And despite his antsy movements, shifting back and forth on his feet, he still hasn’t turned back to look at you once, keeping his ridiculous promise.

“Fine. Lead the way,” you say grudgingly. Your steps feel light as you stare at Bachira, following him all the while, but he still doesn’t look back at you.

At the table, your mom smiles at you. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” you respond. The next time you look at Bachira, you finally meet him in the eye, and his smile lights up his face, just like it did when you were little, the sun rising to sweep the world in light and color.

–

Art lessons with Bachira-san quickly became your favorite thing in the world.

Maybe it was because she never demanded unerring perfection from you, nor did she treat you like a little doll. She delighted in every advancement you made with art, no matter how messy or imperfect. She treated you like you already had things worth saying, and listened to you babble about anything on your mind.

But as much as you loved those things, what you most loved about art lessons with Bachira-san was her son, Meguru.

At some point in the afternoon, he would inadvertently drag you away from your canvas for an adventure through the neighborhood. Bachira-san never seemed to care, and would even encourage you to leave your pastels behind and pick up a stick to be a sword, as long as you had finished drawing at least one thing that you liked.

So, in those perfect sunny afternoons, you would poke at bugs, digging worms out of the dirt and following ants back to their nest and lifting up rocks to watch rollie pollies curl up. You would climb trees, always trying to outrace each other and get to the tallest branch. You would pretend to be pirates and adventurers, clamoring up and down the slides on the park, searching for treasure.

Mostly, though, Bachira wanted to play football.

“You gotta kick it like this! And that!” he cheered, dribbling the ball back and forth between his feet in lithe, swift steps.

“Huh?” you said, trying to keep up with his movements. You always did well during your elementary school’s sports meet, but Meguru was on another level. 

“No, no! More like this!” Meguru said, and kicked the ball high in the air, only to catch it with his knee. 

“I’ll try,” you said. 

“Yay! Then let’s play a few games, okay?”

And you played, not because you particularly loved football, like Meguru did, but because you liked it when he smiled. You and Meguru. Meguru and you. Why would you need anything else? The boundaries of your world began and ended with his hand in yours.

Bachira-san would let him sit in on your lessons on slow days, too, even though he would invariably end up doodling on your canvas instead of his.

“Use your own paper, Meguru!” you retorted as Meguru scribbled a lumpy shadow onto the corner of your sketchpad. “This one is mine!”

“Eh? But we’re friends! So I can draw on yours!”

And then the two of you bickered playfully until you ended up doodling all over each other’s works, which Bachira-san then dubbed a “collaborative masterpiece,” and hung up the pictures side by side on a corkboard in her studio. It made your heart flutter to see the papers fluttering like friends.

Other times, Meguru would wander off in the middle of your lesson after drawing to his heart’s content, grabbing the football that was perpetually by his side.

“I’m done,” Meguru said, throwing down his colored pencil. There was a strange red creation on his page, some machine with a thousand different blue and green buttons and square windows. It had dragon wings and a boat’s rudder, and soared through scribbled stars and over choppy turquoise waves.

“What is that?” you asked him.

“A car that can fly across the ocean,” Meguru explained. “I’m gonna drive it up to pick up all my favorite football players, and there’s gonna be a stadium in it, and we’re all gonna play football together!”

“Can I come, too?”

“Duh! You can sit in the pilot seat with me. That’s why I made it so big,” he said, before dribbling his football out the studio door.

Even if he wandered off, Meguru would always rejoin the two of you on time for lunch. He had some sort of sixth sense for the moment Bachira-san started passing out snacks, peeking his head (sometimes with twigs or dirt scattered in his hair) around the studio door, cheerfully announcing, “I’m home!”

“Welcome back, Meguru! You’re just in time for a snack,” Bachira-san said, sweeping her hands at the row of pudding cups on the table. You were sitting quietly in a chair, posture straight, methodically scooping out every last bit of pudding with your spoon.

“Pudding! It’s pudding time,” Meguru exclaimed cheerfully at the sight of the snacks, running up to the table to snatch up several cups and a spoon in his chubby hands. 

“Meguru! Leave some for your friend!” Bachira-san scolded lightly, and Meguru would come running right back to you. 

“Here,” he said, dropping a cup in front of you.

Meguru could never sit still, so your eyes were inevitably drawn to him as he danced around the room, running from corner to corner and shoving pudding into his mouth so fast his cheeks puffed out like a small animal’s. Whenever he caught your eye he would stick out his tongue, and you would stick out your tongue in return. When there was only one pudding cup left on the table, you reached for it, before turning to Meguru. 

“Have this,” you said, handing him the pudding cup, which Meguru had been eying with a wide open mouth and sparkling eyes.

“Yay! Thanks!” he said. “Let’s share it!”

“I saved it for you, though.”

Meguru shook his head as he unpeeled the cap, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of the shiny, golden treat. “Well, I want you to have some, too.”

There was no better pudding in the world than the spoonfuls you had that day, Meguru graciously proffering the very last bite for you to eat. The memory of that sweetness resounded through your dreams. 

Even your mom had gotten used to your chattering about Meguru. He was your favorite topic, and nothing was ever quite as important or interesting as him. As soon as your mom’s car pulled up to the curb at the end of your lessons, you would clamber inside, your artwork for the day clutched tightly in your hands, and a new story about Meguru on your lips.

“Okaa-san, Okaa-san,” you said brightly. “Guess what Meguru did today?”

“Let me guess,” your mom said playfully as the driver pulled away from the curb. “The two of you played together?”

“Yup! This time, we pretended to be monkeys living in the trees! And then we got into a monkey war! And we threw a bunch of sticks at each other, and Bachira-san let us eat bananas for a snack! And we kept trying to peel them like monkeys, too.”

“How exciting! I didn’t realize I was taking a monkey home with me today,” your mom replied. “Are you having fun with your art lessons?”

“I’m having a lot of fun, Okaa-san. I’m learning a lot!” You squirmed in your seat. “Oh! But you have to hear about what Meguru did!”

You didn’t know if your mom ever got tired of you chattering on and on about Meguru. If she did, she never let it show, and she watched you with gentle eyes the whole time you talked. 

“You act differently around Meguru-kun,” she said.

“Is that bad?” you asked anxiously, suddenly alert.

She smiled. “No, not at all. Everyone has different sides to them. But I’m glad you’re good friends with him. You talk about him all the time.”

You fiddled with your fingers, feeling strangely pleased and shy all at once. Meguru always stirred unknown emotions in you. “I just like him a lot!”

“Enough to marry him?” your mom teased.

Your face brightened at her words; you hadn’t even realized that was an option. But it was such a great idea. If you married Meguru, then the two of you could be together forever. It just made a lot of sense; who else in the world would you rather spend your entire life with? No one else could compare to your best friend. If you lived in the same house, then you could have sleepovers everyday, and never be separated. “I do!”

Your mom laughed. “Does he want to marry you, though? You can’t decide that on your own!”

“He will if I ask him,” you explained. “He doesn’t say no to me.”

Your mom laughed even harder at that, tears springing to the corner of her eyes. “So he’ll do whatever you say? That sounds very sweet of him.” 

However, one memory from this period of time stood out to you, clearer than the rest. You would dream about it, taking it down from a shelf to blow off the dust and stare into its depths.

It was a hot spring day, about a year after you had started art lessons, and Meguru stumbled into the studio with bruises on his face and scrapes on his knees. He had been gone for most of the afternoon, which had disappointed you slightly, but you knew you would see him again. However, you never imagined it would be like this.

“Meguru!” You ran to him, watercolor brush dropping to the paint splattered floor, stopping to grab his shoulders in concern. “Are you okay? Do I need to get Bachira-san?”

Meguru shook his head, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “No.” 

“What happened?” you asked urgently. “You’re hurt!” 

Ushering him to a seat, you ran to the sink and grabbed a towel, running it under a gush of cold water, before returning and dabbing at Meguru’s wounds as gently as you could. Blood came away in thin streaks like paint. 

“Hey…” Meguru began quietly, in a small voice. He didn’t sound like the cheerful boy you knew, the one who was never phased and bounced off from every mistake and accident with a bright smile. It reminded you a little of how, when you were driving home after lessons, you would peek back at Meguru. His figure looked a little lonely outlined against the sunset, as he bounced a soccer ball quietly to himself. 

“What is it?” You ran back to the sink, where you opened the cabinet underneath it to fish out some bandaids. 

“We’re friends, right?” Meguru asked. 

“Huh? Where’s this coming from? Of course we are. What else would I be?” 

Meguru looked down at his knees as you slapped a bandaid on his skinned knees without a complaint. 

“So you don’t think I’m weird, right?” he said, and his lips quivered with each word. “You’re not gonna leave me?” 

“You’re not weird,” you said firmly. It occurred to you, then, that Meguru never talked about anyone in his life outside of you and Bachira-san. You hadn’t seen him with any other kids your age, either. Maybe you were his whole world, in the same way he was yours. “You’re my best friend, and I would never leave you. If you’re worried about it, then we could get married.” 

“Married?” Meguru peeked at you from under the fringe of his bangs. 

“So we can be together forever,” you explained. 

Meguru smiled, just a little, a wobbly uplifting of his mouth. “Okay! Pinky-promise me, then! We’re gonna get married.”

You lifted up your hand and, with all the clumsy reverence of a child, locked pinkies with Meguru. You shook once, twice, and then let go, as if this was a ceremony as solemn as a real wedding. 

“What happened, though, Meguru? Are you sure it’s okay if I don’t get Bachira-san?” 

Meguru shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Because we have each other, right?” 

You beamed at him, sunshine spilling in your chest, a golden glow. “Right. We’ll always have each other!”

–

Over the next few days, Bachira’s promise hangs over you like a darkening cloud, slowly threatening rain. 

It’s not like you forgot what you told him. You would contact him, eventually. But there was a time and place for everything, and this required more delicate care than anything you’ve undertaken so far. Besides, when you look at your phone screen, you feel a flush of embarrassment. You’ve never been able to bring yourself to block Bachira’s contact, and you still know his number by heart. 

When you first moved to America, a small, foolish part of you thought that he would contact you eventually. He would come running back to you, unable to stand the distance any longer. In your most unbearable, romantic daydreams, he would fly over to California and beg you to go home to Japan with him. But the weeks passed, and you entertained desperate thoughts each time you saw the lack of notifications on your phone screen.

You should message him first. No, you should call him. Or call Bachira-san instead, and learn more about Bachira through her. Or you could show up at one of his football games, and Bachira would be overcome by emotion and throw his arms around you and everything would be repaired, as easy as that. 

But your dreams were nothing compared to the overwhelming silence of reality. No, it was better to find a way to bury the memory of Bachira, and find someone else. There were so many people in the world, and maybe you had been too distracted to realize that, out there, there was someone more perfect and wonderful for you. That’s how you found yourself dating Thomas, accepting his confession without a second thought.

You’re reminded of that time as your fingers hover over Bachira’s icon now, sitting cross-legged on your bed. Keep it simple. A short message. 

Are you free to meet up today? I think we should go to the park near your house.

Not even a few seconds later, your phone dings.

yes!!!!!!! heading over now :3

Now? You aren’t even ready! Is your outfit good? What about your appearance? Your hands flutter nervously. You could be over at the park in a matter of minutes if you took the car, but… Wait. Why are you worrying over this sort of thing again? Why do you still care so much about his opinion? Knowing Bachira, it’d all be the same to him whenever you showed up in a trash bag or a thousand dollar suit. He’s never been one to care much for appearances. 

Your phone buzzes again, and you whip it up to your face. It’s not a message from Bachira, but an email from Thomas. Your heart lunches as you open it to read a simple message asking about your trip, and if you’ve been well. 

You’ve forgotten entirely about him. Instead, you’ve been thinking only of Bachira. Sure, you’re technically not dating Thomas right now, but why does it still make you feel so guilty?

You made a note to yourself to message Thomas back later. You can only handle one thing at a time right now, and Bachira is the major agenda on your list. It only takes a few minutes for you to make your way to the park, agonizingly short and slow at the same time, as if time is warping around you.

Bachira is sitting on one of the swings, twisting the metal chains in spirals and letting go slowly, so he twists in dizzying loops. The air is soft, perfumed with the scent of newly flowering trees, white petals falling like pale rain.

You pause just outside the entrance. He hasn’t noticed you yet. When did Bachira grow taller? He’s always had a round face, but puberty has melted the last of his baby fat away. His hair, at least, is as messy as ever, strands curling in every direction away from his face, his wild bangs held in check by a few clips clinging to remain on. 

The worst part is that you know him still, that you will always know him. That you would recognize him even under a different name or if you had been struck blind and deaf. You would know him by your touch alone, by scent, by taste. The very space Bachira occupies is left changed by his presence, and you could chase his lingering trails for the rest of your life. 

“Bachira,” you greet, walking slowly to where he’s still twisting in circles. You grab the chains, jerking him to a sudden stop, and he tilts his head up to look at you as he sways back and forth on the swings, your shadow falling across his face. 

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re here!” 

You nod. Your voice has fled in Bachira’s presence, and all you can do is drink him in.

“I missed you,” Bachira says.

“We met a few days ago.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he says. “I meant I missed you the whole time you were gone from Japan! I thought of you the whole time.”

You finally manage to unstick your voice. “Why didn’t you text me?”

“Because you told me not to. You were so mad at me. I didn’t want to make you madder.”

“Did you think I hated you?” you say. 

“You didn’t?” he says quietly.

“I…” you begin, then clear your throat. “I could never hate you.”

Bachira kicks at the ground. “Then why didn’t you text me?” he says, echoing your question.

“I was mad, Bachira. I…”

“You said we were best friends.”

You blink. Once, twice. “I did. I didn’t lie to you.”

“Then are we still best friends?”

“I…” You duck your head so he can’t see your face. “It’s been so long. And…” You can’t forget what happened in middle school. You can’t return to the way your relationship used to be, when you were children, and the world was simple, and uncomplicated. Why did he look at you like the two of you could? “It’s different now.” 

“I always thought you were my best friend,” he says plaintively. “That’s never changed.” 

“Then in middle school, why did you…” You chew the tender flesh of your cheek. 

When you were in America, you had fantasized about what you would say to him, how you would redo your argument and say the right words to strike home. You had thought about running into him again, and how the perfect speech would flow from your mouth, conveying all your feelings, mending whatever had broken all those years ago. In angrier times, you thought about hitting right where it hurt, your words like a sword, and you, the perfect, righteous victim. Now, though? Now your sentences come in bits and pieces, awkward and stilted, breaking under his gaze. 

“Why did you do that to me, Bachira?” you continue quietly. “Do you think we can go back to the way we were before, just like that?”

A buzz emanates from your pocket. Grateful for the distraction, you drop your grip from the swings. There are imprints of the chain links on your palm as you swipe open your new notification.

“Is it your mom?” Bachira asks.

You squint at the bright email on your phone. “No. It’s from my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” There’s a strange quaver in Bachira’s voice.

“My boyfriend. In America,” you add. “He plays football, too, and he drives me to places.” You feel mean then, your heart shriveling into something small and petty. You hadn’t intended to lie about Thomas, who was just your ex, but the lie feels good as you drink in Bachira’s lost gaze, eyes wide and shimmering with unspoken emotions. 

“I’m qualified to make nationals for football,” Bachira says, that odd tone still in his voice. 

“So is my boyfriend,” you add. The football season in America had just started, but Bachira didn’t need to know that. 

“Cars are overrated. I just walk everywhere. It helps me become a better player,” Bachira adds. 

“I should probably go so I can respond to him,” you say, waving your phone, ambling slowly towards the park entrance. Bachira’s gaze never leaves your phone.

Bachira kicks hard at the ground, shoes digging into the angry dirt. “So you like him, then? You like him a lot?” 

“Bachira.” Your gaze bores into him. A breeze, sweet with the scent of flowers, ruffles his hair. “The way we are now, I don’t think you have the right to question me.” 

He flinches, spinning the swing into motion, as if he can fly far from your words. But he’s only going back and forth in one direction, legs kicking at the sky. 

You watch him for a while longer. All the anger drains out of you then. What is it that you came back here for, anyways? What are you looking for? What do you want? If growing up is going to be so painful, then maybe Bachira is right. You should have remained the way you once were, just the two of you. 

–

By pulling some strings and begging your mom, you were able to get into the same public middle school as Meguru. The plan initially had been to send you to a fancy prep school overseas for both middle and high school, but you rebelled and pleaded, threatening to run away and to ruin the family reputation. 

“I’ve never seen you cry so hard,” your mom teased. “From the way you were acting, I might as well have been torturing you. I didn’t realize you hated the idea of studying abroad so much.” 

Your face burned at her words. “I’m sorry, Okaa-san.”

“Don’t be. It was cute. You hardly ever act like that, so it was nice to see.” She slid a sly smile at you. “But I wonder… is there a particular reason you wanted to go to this middle school?” 

You shook your head vehemently. “No! Not at all!” 

“Really? Not even for a certain little cute friend of yours?” your mom continues. 

“Okaa-san!” you protested, and she threw up her hands in surrender. 

When you started middle school with Meguru in the spring, though, it hadn’t been like what you expected. For starters, there was always a sea of people around you, pushing Meguru away like he was a piece of kelp set adrift on the tide. You knew how to make friends; how to smile just so, or to reply in the right lulls in the conversation to keep it going. But Meguru was always in a corner by himself. Even when you invited him over, your classmates would smile awkwardly at his nonchalant comments, or find reasons to drift away.

“He’s weird,” one of your classmates confided in you, one hand cupped around her mouth. “He talks to himself sometimes, and he never pays attention in class. He’s not a bad guy, but… he should try to fit in more.”

She looked expectantly at you, as if offering you a gift. You backed away from her instead, your own smile strained. “I see. But I like Meguru the way he is. He’s not doing anything wrong, and I don’t see why he has to change.” 

Regardless of how the other students treated Meguru, though, you were determined not to let it affect you.

You were the only one to greet him in the hallways, and to sit by him during lunch. In the warm weather, the two of you would sit side by side in a secluded corner of the classroom, or try to find a place to sit outside under the shade of some trees. You walked home with him (because he preferred to dribble his football on the way, instead of taking a ride in your car), and walked to school with him, asking the driver to drop you off in front of his house. You dragged Meguru to study with you, somehow pulling him through each exam by the skin of his teeth, because you refused to imagine a situation in which the two of you wouldn’t be in a class together. Your classmates started joking that if they wanted to find you, all they had to do was call Meguru’s name, and you would pop up expectantly. 

It was shaping up to be a good three years of middle school. You would graduate on time at this rate, and go to high school together. The only issue, though, was something that took place during the start of your third year of middle school. A classmate of yours had asked you to meet him after school, surrounded by two of his friends who grinned and elbowed him as he rubbed his neck, refusing to look you in the eye. 

You didn’t think much of it at the time. When you showed up at the classroom, he turned to you with a sudden desperation, face red, and bowed. 

“Please go out with me!” he said. “I’ve had a crush on you for the past two years!” 

“Huh?” You gripped the straps of your bag tighter. “You… you like me?”

He bowed even more deeply at your confused tone. “Is it no good? Do you not feel anything for me?”

“I’m flattered, but I don’t like you in that way. I’m sorry,” you said gently. 

The boy groaned. “I knew it. It’s because of Bachira, right? The two of you are always together. I don’t stand a chance against him.” 

“Because of Meguru?” you repeated. 

The boy nodded. “You like each other, right? It’s obvious. Man, I shouldn’t have tried to get in between that.”

You couldn’t find the words to deny him or to fix the misunderstanding, even after the two of you parted. You and Meguru? Of course you liked him. He was your best friend. 

But you couldn’t let go of that boy’s words. You mulled over them, again and again. Like clothes that no longer fit quite right, your relationship with Meguru had changed shape before you had noticed. Somehow, that boy was the first to notice.

You always waited for Meguru to finish soccer practice, no matter how late it ran. Sometimes you had student council duties, or you would just sit cross-legged and work on your homework as he ran around the field. You’d done this for all three years of middle school, and the entire team knew you by name. The coach would jokingly ask if you were okay if you ever missed a day of practice, calling you an honorary member of the team. 

Today was no different, and you made your way to the soccer field to wait for him. Without fail, when Meguru finished, the first thing he did was whip his head around, looking for you. As soon as he did, he made a beeline straight to you, without a care in the world. 

He threw his arms around you from behind, causing the two of you to tumble into the grass. You shrieked, and he laughed, and you were a tangled pile of clinging limbs and grass stains.

It’s what he did. It’s what he was like. So why did your heart burst like a thousand butterflies into flight, reacting to his touch? He’s always been touchy. Your classmate was getting in your head. 

“There you are!” Meguru said, looping his arms around your neck, heedless of who was watching, even if the team was used to his antics. “Let’s go home now!”

When he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, you couldn’t move, skin hot wherever he touched you. 

“Okay, let’s go home, Meguru,” you said softly.

As soon as you went home, you sprinted past your mom to leap onto your bed and hug your pillow. You liked Meguru. You liked him so much, and it was so obvious now. It was the most natural stage for your relationship to progress to. Maybe you had always liked him, and you just didn’t have the words for it until now. Meguru had always been the most special person in the world to you, and that idea had simply taken on a new shade of meaning.

He had promised to be with you forever, hadn’t he? And Meguru would never break a promise to you.

You were careful not to let Meguru know your feelings over the following months. It would be embarrassing if he discovered them so soon, especially when it had taken you so long to realize them. But everyday after you went home, you would list all the things he had done that day, like touching your hand and hugging you, and calling your name three different times during history class. Everything about him felt so much more special now. 

You liked him. You liked him so much. And you had to do something about it before graduation. As the months dripped by like water falling from a melting icicle, you planned when to make your move: on the most romantic day of the year. 

During Valentine’s Day, you splayed your bandaged fingers across your desk in anticipation, your gift wrapped neatly in your backpack.

It had taken you all week to make the chocolates, which you had painstakingly molded into chocolate hearts. Since it was the first Valentine’s in which you were giving someone chocolate, you had delicately filled each heart with different fruit flavored jams– strawberry, orange, and even pineapple, Meguru’s favorite. The chocolates were nestled in a bag of pink cellophane and white tissue paper, with a red ribbon neatly tied in a bow on top. You had refused help from everyone, even the chef and your mom, because it was more special if you did it by yourself. 

You hadn’t been able to stop bouncing in your seat all morning, nervous energy thrumming through you as the teacher’s history lecture went in one ear and out the other. The chocolates burned like a secret in your school bag, and you couldn’t resist fiddling with the zipper, constantly sliding it down to make sure the gift was still there.

When lunch finally rolled around, like an anxious puppy, you jumped out of your seat and headed straight to Meguru, who was sleeping, his head buried in his arms and doodles scattered across his notebooks like stars.

“Meguru,” you said, shaking his shoulder. “Meguru, wake up. Class is over.”

“Uh?” Meguru blinked one slow, sleepy eye at you, before stretching. “It is?”

“Yes. I have something to show you,” you emphasized. “It’s a surprise.”

“What is it?” He sat up, staring at you expectantly. 

You glanced around the classroom; only a few people were still in their seats, eating homemade lunches and chatting with their friends, heads bent over magazines or phones. Reaching in your bag, you fumbled for the chocolates, hands trembling as you presented them to Meguru.

“Chocolate? Wow, thanks!” His eyes lit up as he reached for the bag, untying it and shaking a few of the hearts into his hand. He popped them in his mouth, his lips curling up in bliss. “These are so good!”

“I made them myself,” you explained shyly. “It took a while, but… I wanted to do something special for you, Meguru.”

He stuffed another chocolate into his mouth. “Thanks! You’re the best friend ever!”

Your face twitched at his choice of words, but you still plowed on. “Well… These aren’t just any chocolates, you know? Do you remember what day it is?”

“Uh…”

“It’s Valentine’s,” you supplied impatiently. “So, um…”

“These are friendship chocolates?” Meguru asked, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk.

“No.” Your hands were clammy now. It was just Meguru. Meguru, who you’ve known forever. Meguru, who promised to be by your side. Meguru, who understood you more than anyone else in the world. Why were you so afraid? He’d never hurt you.

“Can I share these with my mom?” Meguru continued innocently. “I think she’d love ‘em, too.”

“No!” Meguru stared at you, and your cheeks burned. “Sorry. I can make some for Bachira-san later. But these are special, Meguru. They’re… they’re not friendship chocolates.”

A sudden hush descended over the classroom. You were on a stage, a bright, hot spotlight beaming down on you and making your neck sweat. This wasn’t anything like what you read about how confessions went in shoujo manga. Meguru’s clueless eyes burned into you, and it was like he didn’t understand the script you were trying to read for him.

Meguru ate another heart, gnashing it beneath his teeth. “Eh? What other kind of chocolate can they be?”

You forced the words out. “They’re… they’re romantic.  I’m confessing to you. I like you, Meguru.”

Your breathing was shallow, and your heart beat like a frightened animal. You couldn’t look at him anymore, and the heaviness of your words dropped like stones onto the floor. 

“Oh. Um… I’m sorry.” The awkwardness in Meguru’s voice was too much. You backed away from his desk, tears burning at the corner of your eyes. When you looked up, you could see your classmates, feigning disinterest as they purposefully avoided your gaze. 

You burst out of the classroom, ignoring the sound of Meguru’s chair screeching back as he yelled after you, “Wait!”

You were fast, but Meguru was faster. You skidded down the steps wildly, taking several at a time, and you were half down the landing when Meguru caught up to you. He called your name at the top of the stairs, but you refused to look back– and then, he landed in front of you, breathing heavily, shirt sleeves rolled up. He had jumped down an entire flight of stairs to catch up to you. 

Meguru called your name. “Wait! Wait, wait.”

You turned your head away, but you could still sense Meguru in front of you. Your childhood friend. Your best friend. You had drawn hearts around his name in the back of your notebook this morning.

“What is it?” you said softly. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Meguru had just been surprised, and now he would confess his feelings.

 It was a joke, right?” he said uncertainly. “You were joking. It was a weird joke, but–”

“I wasn’t joking!” you yelled, shoving him backwards with a wild strength that surprised you. You haven’t been this mad at him since you first met. 

Meguru stumbled back a few steps, watching you with wide eyes. It was an expression you hadn’t seen on him before: confused, lost, and afraid. Shouldn’t you be the one making that face?

“Okay. Um. It’s just weird if our relationship changes like that. You and me? That’s kinda weird,” he said again. “We’re friends! I don’t want to be anything else.”

You dug your nails into the meat of your palm until the pain was all you could think about. “I don’t want to be friends.”

“Huh?” Now Meguru looked even more afraid.

“I like you, Meguru,” you said, a broken sob in your voice. “I can’t just be friends with you. I…”

Meguru stepped closer to you. There was a starburst of hope in your chest, before it was dashed by Meguru dropping your Valentine’s Day chocolate in your hands. You curled your fingers over the hearts, crushing them in your palm.

“I don’t want to do this,” Meguru mumbled. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear anything, okay?”

“You’re a coward,” you said furiously, pushing all your hurt into your voice. You weren’t sad. You weren’t going to cry. Not especially in front of him. “I– I don’t want to see you again. Don’t talk to me. You liar! You said you would always be by my side!”

When you looked down the stairs, you could see a few of your fellow students, awkwardly hovering near the bottom of the landing. They averted their gazes when they met your eyes, but your whole body felt hot with rage and embarrassment. How many people had seen and heard the two of you? By tomorrow, everyone in school would probably be gossiping about how you were rejected by Meguru.

You ran. You ran, and this time, Meguru didn’t stop you as you jumped down the stairs. Somehow, you made your way home. You started listlessly at your phone, but there was no message from Meguru. You had been the one to tell him not to contact you, but… you threw your phone onto your bed.

Stupid Meguru. Stupid you. It had never occurred to you that Meguru might not feel the same way as you. You had been so arrogant, so certain that he liked you, and now you had embarrassed yourself in front of the whole school. 

Did he forget? He promised to marry you. But that had been on a childish whim of his, no doubt, something he had long forgotten. You buried your head in your arms, and cried until you could drown the entirety of Chiba in your tears.

When your mom came home that night, a frown was brewing on her face, but the sight of your puffy eyes and hoarse voice stopped her lecture.

“What happened?” she asked you. “The school called me. You skipped classes.” 

You shook your head. “I want to study abroad for high school.”

“What? Are you sure? You were so excited to go to school with Meguru-kun. The process would be–”

“I don’t care,” you said. His name stung your heart. “I want to go to America, Okaa-san. Please.”

She peered at you closely, then sighed. “Okay. Okay, let’s talk about this later. But if you really want to, then it’s not too late to make it happen.” 

For the rest of your time until graduation, you avoided Meguru. You didn’t text him. When you saw him in the halls, you turned around and went a different way. You stuck closely to your other friends, and went home right away whenever you didn’t have any extracurriculars. You no longer visited the football field after school. 

No one was cruel enough to talk about your confession to your face, but you could feel the glances, hear the whispers, until everyone lost interest and moved on to the next piece of gossip.

A part of you expected Meguru to come running to you, but he quietly kept out of your way. Maybe he was avoiding you, just as much as you were avoiding him. What an odd thought; Meguru had always been the first to whine when you had to leave to visit your grandparents for the summer. He was the one who always threw his arms around you. Maybe your relationship hadn’t meant that much to him after all.

When it came time for you to move to America, you and Meguru graduated middle school without talking to each other at all. 

–

For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to talk to Thomas about Bachira.

In fact, you haven’t told any of your American friends about Bachira. You spent the first year in California trying to forget him, blindly agreeing to go on dates with any boys who showed interest in you. But their love for you was never greater than your own lack of it. Thomas is only the most recent one and you follow his lead, not out of loyalty, but convenience. 

You keep your thoughts held tight to your chest, precious secrets that you refuse to let spill out of your grasp. With everyone in your life, sometimes even your mom, you have always put up a front. The only person you didn’t do that with was with Bachira. 

Bachira is an open wound, one that grows bigger with every year, overwhelming you with its enormity and the way pressing on it still makes you ache. Your friends would laugh if you told them you were hanging on to a boy for so long, nursing this pain like your own child. They wouldn’t understand, and you would look pathetic in their eyes. There are no words in English or Japanese to describe what he means to you. His hold on you is as eternal as the way the flowers bloom during the spring, and the world revolves on its axis. 

The rest of spring break passes in a flash. You hardly run into Bachira anymore, and your mom doesn’t force any more meetings. You email Thomas, who responds with boyish enthusiasm even at your dry answers. 

The night before your morning flight, you rush up and down the stairs, sorting your various toiletries and stuffing clothes into your suitcase. 

“All ready?” your mom asks you, nursing a mug of tea at the counter, watching you bustle.

“Yes, Okaa-san,” you say obediently. She holds open her arms, and you stop by for a hug, her arms enveloping you. She runs a hand in circles along your back, humming to herself.

“You’re such a good child,” she says affectionately. “Come visit me again soon. I’ll be lonely without you.”

“Okay.”

“And…” She pulls back to peer into your eyes. “You’re a little too good to me. You should try to be more wild. Rebel, so I can throw up my hands in exasperation at you and complain to all my friends.” 

“I’ll try, so you have something to talk about with your coworkers,” you say, and she pinches your nose. 

“Don’t try. Just do it,” she scolds. “I’ll always forgive you for any silly mistakes you make.”

“Okay, Okaa-san,” you say. “If I break a law, I’ll let you know in advance to prepare my bail.” 

She smiles sadly. “You’re so old now. I wish you wouldn’t get hurt in life, but I can’t fix everything for you.” 

“The world isn’t that nice,” you agree. 

“You haven’t talked to Meguru-kun recently,” she says gently. “Did something happen?” 

You stiffen, your face shuttering closed. “We’re okay. We’re just busy.” 

She stirs the tea in her mug. “Okay. I won’t push you any further. Your life is yours to live. But I’ll always be here for you, if you need me.” 

She leans in to kiss you on the forehead, and you want to cry. From the way she hesitates, you know she wants to say something else, but she simply lets you go.

How long has your mom suspected that your relationship with Bachira isn’t as pleasant as you pretend it is? You rub your forehead as you rush upstairs, dumping the last of your items into your suitcase. You sit on top of it to force it closed as you start zipping up the side, when your phone buzzes.

Bachira? No, it’s Thomas. The header of the email causes you to drop your phone in surprise.

About our relationship…

You pick up your phone, skimming the email.

Can we get back together? You read. I miss you.

How fickle. He was the one who broke up with you, and now he wants to get back together right away as soon as it’s convenient. That might not be a bad idea, though. A relationship where you knew what was expected from you, a simple transaction, would be easy. 

Your phone buzzes again; it’s an incoming call. You stare at the caller ID for a few seconds, your surprised face reflected in the screen, before you answer, pressing the phone close to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Bachira says. “I’m outside.”

“What?”

“I’m outside your door,” he repeats. “Can you come outside? If not, I’ll come in.”

“Why are you here?” You stand, heart pounding. 

“Kaa-san told me you were leaving tomorrow,” Bachira says. “So I wanted to stop by.”

“Bachira…”

“Just for a little bit,” he persists. “That’s all you need to do.”

You sigh. “All right, fine. But only for a few minutes, okay?”

You hang up, pulling on a light jacket before you’re flying down the stairs, trading your house slippers for flip flops, and burst into the cool night air. The sun is setting, painting the sky in vibrant swatches of peaches and reds. There’s a cool breeze, sweet with the scent of new growth.

Bachira is leaning outside your family gate, a football tucked under his arm.

“What is it?” you ask him tersely, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets.

“You’re going back to America?” he says.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“When will you come back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to university there,” you reply. You had planned to come back for summer break to see your mom, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Okay.” Bachira looks at the ground. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Why do you want to know about him?”

“Do you like him?”

“I… Sure,” you say, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. “We’re on break right now because he’s busy with football season, but we’re thinking about getting back together,” you add more strongly, and Bachira kicks at the ground.

“He sounds like a jerk. Why’d he break up with you if he just wants to get back together whenever he wants?”

“At least he’s clear with his intentions,” you say sharply. “And he doesn’t run away.” 

Bachira flinches, but it doesn’t make you feel as good as it should have. “... Shouldn’t…” he mumbles. 

“What?” You tilt your head to catch his words.

“You shouldn’t get with him again,” Bachira says, still kicking at the ground like he would dribble his football. 

“Why not?” You laugh, short and bitter. “How is that your business, Bachira? It’s not like you’re my boyfriend. We’re not even— we’re not even friends anymore.” 

No response. What did you expect? 

“I’m tired of this, okay?” you say softly. “All this stupid back and forth. We keep going in circles. If all we’re going to do is hurt each other, then let’s just end this here.”

Bachirs looks up at you finally, his gaze full of so much desperation and uncertainty. His chin trembles as he says, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, more serious than you’ve ever heard him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I rejected your confession. I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

Bachira might as well have stabbed you. “Do you think that’s going to fix things? You’re sorry? Now? After all this time? What’s that going to fucking fix?” you say, your voice rising with each word you spit out. 

“You didn’t call me, either,” Bachira says quietly. You flinch at the raw hurt in his voice, his overwhelming sadness. “You’re the one who just left without a word. You’re the one who ignored me. You were my only friend. You were my best friend.”

You chew your lip hard. Were. Not are. “I couldn’t face you anymore,” you say. 

“I thought our friendship was stronger than that,” he says.

“I guess it wasn’t.” 

“Do you really not want to be friends anymore?” 

“What do you think? You want us to go back to how we were before and pretend nothing happened? It’s too late. Everything has changed. There’s no going back,” you spit. “You broke my heart. I… I loved you.”

“Then why did you just leave so easily? If you loved me?” Bachira asks. “You ran away and didn’t even try.” 

“I could ask you the same,” you snap. “Just tell me it’s over. Okay? Reject me for good.”

“I can’t.” 

“Why not? It was so easy for you before.”

“Because I love you,” Bachira says desperately.

It’s the world’s cruelest joke. Bachira reaches an uncertain hand towards you, and you jerk back, tears rolling down your face and blurring your vision. He can’t touch you. If he does, you’ll break apart. “Don’t lie,” you say. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m not lying. I didn’t want to admit it before,” he says. “When you told me you liked me, I was scared by how I felt.” 

“Stop it.”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he says. “Things were changing so fast. You were my only friend, and if you liked me, then we couldn’t ever go back to being just friends.” 

“So you’re doing this to me now?” you say. The tears are still falling, and you hug yourself. You feel so weak and so young, all your surety stripped away. “You think you can do this to me?” 

I’m sorry,” he says. 

“You lost me either way,” you snap, “when you broke my heart like that.” 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt, and I’m sorry I pushed you away.” 

You give a strangled laugh. “Really?”

“You don’t have to like me,” he says. “You can be as mad as you want. If you gotta go to America, that’s fine. If you– wanna be with someone else, too, if you don’t love me, that’s okay. We don’t even have to be friends, if you hate me. Just– can I please– can I love you? Is that okay? I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You’re so mean, Meguru,” you whisper. You can’t go forward until you confront him. You can’t go back because it’s impossible. Your fate has always been twisted by the boy in front of you.

You grab the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric in your hands savagely, as you press your lips against his. It’s a short kiss, salty with the taste of your tears, and Bachira is too surprised to kiss you back. 

“Eh?” Bachira asks dazedly.

“You piss me off,” you say. 

“Uh?”

You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Meguru. I’m sorry I left you alone and that I ran away from you and that I gave up so easily. I was scared, okay? But… I never hated you. Ever.”

“You called me Meguru,” Meguru breathes. And then he throws his arms around your neck. 

“You’re so clingy,” you complain, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his back. You’ve missed his warmth, familiar and pleasant and gentle. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” 

“Sort of!”

“Pay attention!” 

“Okay. Well, let’s start over from the beginning, then,” he says. “We can do it again this time, and do it better.” He pulls back from you, clearing his throat. “Hi, I’m Bachira Meguru! It’s nice to meet you,” he says goofily, sticking out his hand.

“Hi.” You take his hand, giving it one shake, introducing your name. “Let’s… let’s be friends.”

“We can’t date?” Meguru asks, pouting, and you frown at him. 

“No. Not now,” you acknowledge. “I have to talk to Thomas properly about how I feel. And I’m going back to America tomorrow. And there’s so much that I have to sort through—”

Meguru leans in and kisses you mid-sentence, a quick, butterfly of a kiss that steals all the words from you. “We’ll be friends for now. And if you want, then we can try dating. And even marriage.”

“Married?” you sputter. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“You did,” he says nonchalantly. 

“From when we were kids,” you point out. 

“Eh? Does that matter? We promised, so we have to follow through on it.”

“Don’t tell me you were going to propose to me.”

“In the future,” he says. “We can’t get married before we’re adults.”

“Meguru,” you say slowly. “Were you seriously planning on proposing to me? Before even asking my opinion?” 

“What’s wrong with that? I thought you liked romantic stuff. Isn’t that romantic?” 

You grit your teeth. You move to grab his shoulders, but Meguru dodges your grasp and slides backwards. You lunge at him again, but he dances out of your way.

“Come back here, Bachira Meguru,” you yell. “Do you have any common sense?”

“Who needs that?” he says cheerfully.

It feels like your first meeting as kids, so long ago. No one else in the world can quite make you feel this way, for better or for worse. Frustrated, you chase after Meguru as he weaves out of your grasp and hops down the length of the sidewalk. This goes on for a little bit, and just when you’ve run out of steam, Meguru spins around. Before you can move, he leaps at you and gathers you into a hug, his arms around your waist.

“Meguru, cut it out,” you say, annoyed, but you don’t move out of his grasp.

“Hmm…” he says. “I’ve decided! I’ll come visit you in America!”

“What?”

Meguru nods to himself, satisfied. “It’ll be fun! I’ve never been out of the country before! Hey, do you think I could fit in your suitcase?”

“Obviously not!”

You take a deep gulp of the spring air, sweet in your mouth, the flowering trees sending a blessing of pink petals over you. You and Meguru. Meguru and you. It’s just like when the two of you were little, only you’re starting over this time. Nothing would ever be the same again, but what new things could you build instead? What sort of people would you be now? 

You hold out your hand to Meguru. He takes it easily, interlacing your fingers like he’s always belonged there. With his touch, an endless world of possibilities unfolds before you. This time, the two of you will explore it together.

#liya writes #blue lock #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk #blue lock bachira #bllk x reader #bllk bachira #bachira x reader #meguru bachira #meguru bachira x reader

[simpjaes]

mtl corruption kink? 🥹🥹

hyung line + corruption kink

★ heeseung:

wants a girl who has no fucking idea what she's doing and no idea what sex is supposed to be like specifically so he can train into into the little sex puppet he's always wanted. given, you'd probably enjoy every second of it, he'd make sure of that. any pain will always be met with equal pleasure, and he'd never actually hurt you or act like he doesn't love you even for a second. it's just...upon learning how innocent and untouched you truly were, how could he resist? And you'd do so well too, molding into exactly what he wants, to the point he'd probably never leave you out of fear that you'd moan like this, or move like this, for someone that isn't him.

☆ sunghoon:

sooooooo gentle but so fucking cocky. he'd love to have a girl so innocent and sweet, whether she's had sex or not. sure, sunghoon looks vanilla but he is so, so, so far from it and showing you the ropes regarding the world of kinks is nothing but a pleasure and need at this point for him. to see your eyes glisten through an orgasm you didn't even realize was bubbling up? yeah, baby, fuck yeah. i think he'd probably be less aggressive than heeseung, but with his corruption would come a lot of degrading comments before the praises. like "fuck, you sure you don't know what you're doing? look at you take it." while he's training your needy pussy to take way more than in comfortable, followed by a "so good baby, just a bit more, you can handle it, right?"

★ jake:

have you seen this mf? sure, i would love to think he's just a stammering and shy puppy boy that would prefer to be corrupted himself but this is jake. the fucking jake sim, who would probably not realize he's corrupting you until the pretty girl who choked on just half of his cock is suddenly taking all of it and deep-throating like a champ. it's just who he is, any girl that gets his cock out, innocent or not, learns how to fuck it just because he's so goddamn hot and being the person he gives his cum to is something anyone would beg for. additionally, he's definitely the type to go fast, deep, and hard without realizing. so yeah, the corruption would be entirely accidental but goddddddamn would he find it so hot realizing how much you've turned into a cum-slut for him.

☆ jay:

nah mf, you gotta corrupt him. does he need it? no. jay knows very well what he's doing when it comes to a pussy but having a more experienced woman show off her skills on him and play along with his fake ass little "idk what to do" vibe is something he'd probably cum to death for. sure, he breaks character mid-fuck and takes over, asking you to call your pretty subby boi "daddy" and demanding that you admit to liking it more when he's stretching you out knowingly. idk, i think he's the switch of all switches. Loves being called "baby", loves calling his girl "baby. Loves even more when you call him" daddy" like you didn't just ride him into fucking oblivion while he whimpered and begged for it. [im not biased at all fr]

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #sim jaeyun smut #park jongseong smut #sim jake smut #jongseong smut #jay smut #enhypen hard hours #hardthots

[woso-dreamzzz]

Puppy

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You get a four-legged friend

After your contract with Arsenal runs out, you have a lot of options.

You could have had your pick of the WSL - United wanted you, City wanted you, Chelsea had made an expensive offer that you were more than happy to turn down. The NWSL had expressed an interest as well but America wasn't something you wanted.

It was only when you were wrapping up your last training session at Arsenal before the World Cup did you get a call from your agent.

"Barcelona," He says," They're interested. They're rivalling Chelsea in the amount of money they're willing to pay you."

You couldn't care less about the money. "Set up the meeting."

The meeting was merely a formality and soon, you were packing up your things from London, saying goodbye to Arsenal and flying to Barcelona.

Momma and Morsa come with you, helping you move in.

Morsa laments about the flight times. "It's a lot further than London," She tells you like you don't already know," Almost five hours from home."

You roll your eyes as you unpack another soft blanket. "Morsa, I'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll call Tia Tana or Alexia. I'm not completely helpless."

"Your Morsa is just having a hard time adjusting," Momma assures you," She doesn't like the fact that you're leaving properly."

You roll your eyes again. "I already left properly."

Momma cradles your face. "Try telling her that. You're always going to be her little girl."

You huff but don't argue any longer, preoccupied with placing little knick-knacks on your shelves. At the bottom of one of the boxes is your childhood pet, Rocky the rock. You look at him fondly before giving him pride of place next to your medals.

"You still have that?" Morsa laughs as she joins you.

You roll your arms. "Hey! The bond between a girl and her pet rock is indescribable. Rocky is an important part of who I am."

"You and that rock-"

"His name's Rocky!"

"-Are so cute. You used to take that everywhere with you."

You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't let me get a puppy or a kitten."

"I think a puppy or a kitten would have been too much for the three of us," Momma says," We already had our hands full with you."

You scoff. "I was an angel."

"Hmm," Morsa says, pressing a kiss to your temple," Most of the time."

She and Momma exchange a look briefly and you're instantly suspicious when you catch Momma's phone getting a notification that you instantly see her clear from her screen.

"What are you two up to?"

Both of them smile even more suspiciously as there's a knock on the door.

"This isn't finished."

"I think it is," Momma murmurs behind you as you swing open the door.

"Hola!"

"Hola, Tia Tana," You say before suddenly falling silent.

There's a wriggling puppy in her arms and you coo softly, hand out for it to lick.

It's a Spitz of some kind. You're not sure which but it's definitely a Spitz. Those are your favourite kind of dogs. It's got a kind of reddish fur that looks really pretty and he's full of little wiggly energy that's absolutely adorable.

"He's so pretty, Tia Tana," You say as she lets him loose," I didn't know you got a dog."

"I didn't."

You sit on the floor with the puppy. "He's so cute. It is a he, right?"

Tia Tana nods. "It's a boy."

"You're so cute," You say to him, letting him jump up on your lap," Yes, you are. A very handsome boy. Like a little prince."

"A prince for our princesse," Morsa says," How do you like him?"

You don't quite understand what she means so you just coo over your new friend. You wished he was Tia Tana's so you could see him more often.

"Are you puppy sitting?" You ask her," He's so sweet."

Tia Tana laughs. "In a way," She says," I'm handing him off to his owner today. He's had all of his shots. He's been neutered and everything."

"He's so cute. I'd love to have a word with your owner. You're too handsome to let go."

"That's good," Momma says," Because he's staying with you."

You look up in shock, brows furrowed. "What?"

"We'd feel better if you had some company," Morsa explains," So we got into contact with Aitana before you moved to see if she could find a puppy for you."

"He's a Finnish Spitz," Tia Tana says with a smile," His Mami was very sociable and his Papa goes on runs with his owner. I'm sure he could keep up with you."

You look between the three of them. "Really?"

"Yes," Momma says with the smallest of smiles," He's yours, princesse. Why don't you give him a name?"

"Prins," You say instantly and your mothers start laughing.

"What's funny?" Tia Tana asks.

"His name means prince," Morsa laughs," Truly, a little prince for our princesse."

Prins barks, his little tail wagging. You stroke your fingers through his fur.

"We need to go back out," You say suddenly," We have to get him food! And a bed! And toys!"

"Already done," Tia Tana says," It's all being delivered soon."

You look down at Prins. He looks up at you, curly little tail wagging happily as he nibbles at your shirt sleeve with his little baby teeth.

"This is the best gift ever!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña

Summary: You've never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day. But when you and Javi celebrate it for the first time together, he goes out of his way to make sure it's everything you want and more.

Pairing: Fiancé!Javier Peña x F!Reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do that pls), face sitting, oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (it's me), PREMATURE EJACULATION, cumming untouched, subby Javi (he is no better than a teenage boy and can barley keep it together bc he is so obsessed with you AH), Javi picks you up to carry you, Javi being a hopeless romantic, sweet, cute fluff bc I said so

A/N: HEYOOOO. It's me, back with our favorite menace couple 🤪 You know damn well Javi goes all out for Valentine's Day, bc Javier Peña is a man in LOVE and the world's biggest softie (I will not be taking counter arguments, it's fact). So in love, in fact, that sometimes, things are finished before they're even started!!! Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all!! 🫣💕 Unbeta'd bc my body won't let me sleep and I'm too exhausted to edit

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

You hated Valentine’s Day. 

Well… Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word strong enough to try and convince Javi that the last thing he needed to worry about doing was going all out for you on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Because for a very long time, all Valentine’s day was for you was just that- another day in the middle of winter. 

For as long as you could remember, you had either spent Valentine’s day alone, wishing you had someone special to share it with, or the person you were sharing it with really didn’t give a shit about you, bought you some chocolate and flowers to cover their ass and called it a day. Your most recent ex had been kind enough to follow your request about not making the holiday anything special by forgetting about it completely and ditching you to go to a hockey game with his friends and then drunkenly calling you to come pick him up that night. 

It was safe to say that Valentine’s day really didn’t mean much to you at all, or at least you thought it wouldn’t, until you’d met Javier Peña- A man who had quite literally bumped into you and proceeded to change the course of your life for the better and found yourself falling head over heels for, so much so, that it didn’t take you long to realize there was no one else that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with than him- leaving your first Valentine’s day together also the first time celebrating the holiday with your fiancé, now that the two of you had gotten engaged. It also meant your first of many years of having to convince Javi that he really didn’t need to do anything special for you to celebrate, and that just getting to spend time with him was more than enough for you. 

Unfortunately, it was not good enough for Javi. 

“Baby, I’m being serious, I promise I do not care. I would be happy if all we did was got pizza and watched TV together. All I wanna do for Valentine’s Day is just spend time with you. I don’t need a random weekday in February for you to prove that you love me, I think you’ve already proven that, Jav.” You laughed, pausing from washing dishes to pull your left hand out of the kitchen sink to point to the engagement ring on your finger. You found yourself now laughing even harder at Javi’s audible sigh as he snuck behind you, flushing his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, practically feeling the weight of his signature puppy dog pout drooping on you. 

“I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m not gonna not do anything. And you deserve much more than pizza.” Javi sighed, pressing a kiss on your cheek, squeezing you in his grasp just a little tighter, making you giggle as he flipped you around to face him, caging you under his broad body against the kitchen counter. “You have to let me do something for you, Hermosa.” 

“I don’t know Jav, pizza does sound really good. You really think you’re gonna be able to top pizza?” You teased, raising your eyebrow at him and sporting a sarcastic smirk as he rolled his eyes at you. 

“Oh shut up, you dork. Seriously, Osita. I totally get if you don’t wanna do anything big, but, I am not doing nothing for my beautiful fiancé on Valentine’s Day. You deserve it. How about this? If you don’t wanna go out, then I am making us reservations here at Restaurant Peña.” 

“Oh, Restaurant Peña? They must be new around here, never heard of them before. Does the chef take requests?” You smirked, biting down on your lip to keep your goofy grin from growing between your cheeks, only giggling more as Javi leaned in to pepper ticklish kisses across your face. 

“Normally, no, but I have a feeling the chef can make an exception for you.

“Does the chef make pizza?” 

“The chef will make fucking pizza if you want pizza.” Javi laughed, rolling his eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around in a fit of laughter before setting you down on top of the kitchen counter, slotting himself in the open space in between your legs and digging his fingers into your hips. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll make it for you.” 

“You choose, Chef Peña. Surprise me.” 

“Hermosa, you hate surprises.” 

“Well, then whatever you’re making better be good.” You shrugged, cocking your head to the side with a smug grin. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that.” 

“Yeah, no shocker there. Seriously though, thank you, Javi. This is really sweet of you. You know you don’t-”

Cutting you off, Javi brought his lips to yours, cradling your jaw as he swallowed the rest of your sentence, making your heart flutter from the electric kiss your fiance had just given you to politely shut you up. 

“I know I don’t. But I want to. Te amo, tozuda (I love you, stubborn).” 

“I love you too, pendejo (jerk). Now help me down, I have dishes to finish and a menu to plan for Laredo’s newest top chef.” 

As you pulled up to the parking lot of your apartment, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Javi had already beat you home to get a head start on your Valentine’s Day dinner, laughing to yourself in disbelief, wondering how you had gotten so lucky that you had found someone that genuinely cared this much about making something so special just for you. 

As you fumbled for your keys and pushed open your front door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence. 

He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless.  

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi amor.” He cooed, now pulling away from his embrace to reach behind you for the bouquet of daisies that had been hiding on the entryway table, handing them over to you with another peck on the cheek. 

“Javi, these are, baby, these are beautiful. Did you- you left work early just to do all this?”  You grinned, burying your nose in the flowers before looking around the living room to admire the setup Javi had prepared for the two of you, finally meeting his soft, sweet gaze staring down at you. 

“Maybe. You’re Restaurant Peña’s first customer, wanted to make a good impression. Speaking of which, dinner is almost done, and as much as I would love to do nothing but stand here and kiss you, the chef doesn’t want to be the first meal he serves to be burned to a crisp.” 

“Well in that case,” You paused, giggling as you pressed up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his plush lips, “I better go change for this classy event. Can’t wait to see what the chef has in store.” 

Handing your flowers back to Javi, you set down the rest of your things from work, and quickly scampered back towards your bedroom, peeking back out of the doorway to shoot Javi a quick wink, making him quietly laugh to himself as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head, trying to hide the completely lovestruck smirk plastered all over his face before heading back to the kitchen. 

Gently closing the door behind you, your face mirrored Javi’s, heat creeping through your cheeks, grinning to yourself as you made your way to your dresser, starting to shuffle through your top drawer, looking for personal Valentine’s Day gift for your fiancé that had been hidden away under your folded piles of socks and underwear. 

After digging for a few moments, you felt the lacy texture running through your fingers, pulling out the new lingerie set you had bought a few days ago to surprise Javi with. You quickly shimmied out of your work clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket next to your bed before slipping the delicate fabric over your body. Although this wasn't the first time you had surprised Javi with an outfit like this, you’d never get over his awestruck reaction, watching his eyes grow wide with his hungry gaze, ravishing in every inch of you, barley keeping himself together enough even remain coherent as you revealed yourself to him. 

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you pulled one of your nicer, fitted black dresses out of your closet, hiding the matching red bra and thong held up by the lacy garters around your thighs, quickly touching up your hair and makeup from your long work day before making your way back out into the kitchen to greet Javi, back turned to you as he picked up two plates off the counter to bring to the table, nearly dropping them in the process as he turned around to see you standing in front of him. 

“Fuck me…” He muttered under his breath, his jaw nearly dropping as he gave you another once over after looking you up and down, having to shake his head to snap himself back to reality, having enough sense to set his plates full of food down on the table before they ended up on the floor. “Baby, you look- fuck, you look fucking stunning.” 

“I heard Restaurant Peña’s a nice place, figured I should dress for the occasion. Plus,” You smirked, taking the few steps to close the space between you and Javi, draping your arms over his shoulders and pressing up on your tiptoes to giggle in his ear, “I heard the chef here is really sexy. I’m really hoping that he’s free after dinner so I can treat him to some dessert.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ… Hermosa, if you keep talking like that, we’re not gonna make it to dinner.” Javi groaned, biting down on his lip as he looked down at your mischievous grin, letting out another deep breath as his hands traveled down the curves of your waist, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, kneading it over the fitted fabric covering it. “Fuck… can we just skip dinner and go straight to des-” 

“Javi! No! You made me this whole delicious meal, I am not letting you skip this because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, giving Javi a playful nudge, taking a step back to cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him to tease him, even you knew damn well you would have been more than happy to give in to Javi’s plan, but the gurgle in your stomach and the inkling you were going to need some energy for the night ahead gave you enough logic to at least have some rational thinking left in your brain. 

“Fine…” Javi sighed, holding up his hands in defense, laughing at your sassy remark, stepping back to the table to put both your plates in their rightful spots before making his way over to your chair to pull it out for you, leaning down to whisper in your ear as you sat down, the hot breath of his words dancing across your neck as he spoke. “Can you blame me when you look like this? You keep fucking teasing me like that, Hermosa, and dessert’s about to get very interesting.” 

You could feel the rasp of his voice shoot straight to your core, your thighs instinctively clenching together to try to keep the ache growing between your legs at bay, letting the softest moan escape from your lips, using every ounce of brain power you had left to try and conjure up some sort of response. 

“Yeah? Is that a threat or a promise?” 

“Depends, which one do you want it to be?” 

“Whatever the chef wants.” 

Although the dinner that Javi had cooked was absolutely delicious, after adding a few glasses of wine during your meal to the already thick and palpable sexual tension in your kitchen was not helping either of your causes, the two of you probably rushing through eating much faster than you had intended to when the night had begun. 

Taking the final sips left in your glass and watching the last bits of your plate cleared, all your inhibitions had been thrown out the window, giving Javi longing look as you stood up out of your chair, pushing in your seat and slowly slinking your way over to Javi, lifting your leg over his lap as you straddled him in his spot, your hands slowly running up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt and carefully unbuttoning button by button as you nipped at his ear. 

“So, are you ready for dessert? I think I have a treat for you that you’re gonna like.” You rasped, trailing kisses across his neck and jaw, your lips meeting his in an electric passion, catching the muffled moan escaping his mouth as you began swirling your hips feeling the bulge beginning to grow in his pants. 

“Fuck… Yeah? You gonna tell me what it is, huh, Hermosa?” Javi groaned, his hands wrapping around your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pressing you down further into his crotch, making you whine as you felt his hard length beneath you rubbing against you, only fueling the fire burning in your stomach and the wet patch growing in your underwear. 

“Why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out.” 

You could barley finish your sentence before Javi was tightening his grip around you, standing up out of the chair to lift you up as he stood, carrying you to the bedroom as you stumbled down the hallway, becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth as the back of Javi’s knees finally hit the bed, situating you back in his lap. His hands roamed relentlessly over your body, letting his hands creep up your thighs, pushing up your dress high enough to stop in his tracks as he felt the lace of your garter band, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the realization of what treat you had to offer for him. 

“Oh fuck… Baby, are you- what do you have on under here?” He asked, breathlessly, very clearly knowing the answer before he had even asked the question, his hands now pushing further up your legs, his fingers dancing across the delicate waistband of your thong as he looked up at you with his pleading brown eyes, now growing darker and darker with lust. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi.” You mewled, reaching behind you to unzip the back of your dress, letting it fall of your shoulders and reveal the red bustier underneath, the floral, lacy pattern leaving very little to the imagination, and leaving Javi’s jaw to practically drop to the floor as you showed off your hidden outfit. 

“Osita… Fuck… This all for me, sweet girl? Jesus Christ.” he practically whispered to himself in disbelief, soaking in every inch of you as you stepped of back off his lap to let your dress fall to the floor, unveiling your lingerie in its entirety in front of him. Letting his elbows rest on his knees, he brought his hand over his mouth, gaping open in awe, soon balling his hand into a fist and biting down on his knuckle as you slowly turned around in a circle, showing off all angles of yourself before meeting Javi’s gaze again, smirking to yourself at the incomprehensible mess your fiance had become. 

“You like it?” You giggled, raising a knowing eyebrow at Javi as you stepped back towards him, running your hands up his strong thighs hanging over the edge of the bed, letting your fingers barley brush over the undeniable tent in his pants, teasing at his belt buckle before dragging your hands back down, resting on his knees. 

“Y-yeah, I- yeah, fuck.” Javi gulped, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to find a way to string together a coherent sentence as you let your fingers trace over his legs and crotch, melting into a puddle under your touch. 

“Yeah? I had a feeling.” You smirked, now palming at the bulge in his pants more firmly, eliciting another audible moan from Javi, his breath becoming heavy and shaky as you sat yourself back over his lap, your ass resting perfectly on top of his erection as you began to slowly swirl your hips over his. Your hands worked their way down the rest of the buttons of his shirt, creeping between the parted fabric to rest your hands on his bare chest, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you sucked at his pulse point, whispering against his skin. “You gonna be a good boy and let me take care of you, baby?” 

There were few times in his life where Javier Peña had found himself at a complete loss for words, but you had him wrapped around your finger as you sat in his lap, all dressed up just for him, whispering sweet praises in his ear did something to him that even he couldn’t quite comprehend. Truth be told, the only thought he could process right now was the all too familiar clench in his stomach and tightening in his balls leaving him on the verge of busting in his pants before you had even touched him. 

Scrunching his face in concentration, Javi nodded rapidly as his hands dug a bruising grip into your hips, every grind of your ass against his crotch only tightening the undeniable knot in his gut. Javi was convinced he’d be strong enough to keep it in check, as long he could use every ounce of his being to focus on not falling apart. But that was before you decided to fight dirty and press every button you knew to make Javi absolutely crumble. 

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me, baby. You want me to touch you, Javi? Let me make you feel good, sweet boy.” You cooed, nipping at his ear as your hands ran through the thick, dark curls of his hair before sliding down the width of his broad shoulders, sliding his shirt down his arms and gripping around his biceps as you sunk your hips deeper and deeper into his lap. 

Before he even had time to process what was happening, Javi found himself instinctively bucking his hips up into you, holding on to you for dear life as he let out an absolutely wrecked moan, slumping his head into your shoulder as you felt a warm, wet sensation begin to spread below you. 

“Fuck… Fuck me…” He whispered, silently cursing himself over his shallow breathing, making you pause in confusion as you looked down at Javi, taking a moment to quickly piece together in your brain what had just happened. 

Javi had just cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. 

“Javi…Javi, did you just-” 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry. Fuck me.” Javi grimaced, running his hand over his face, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling, his cheeks turning red in pained embarrassment, not even able to bring himself to make eye contact with you until you brought your hand under his cheek, gently cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze onto you, locking his lips in an intense kiss before either of you had the chance to speak. 

“Well, that’s a first.” You giggled, trying your best to lighten Javi’s clearly distraught mood, feeling his pouty frown through your kiss. “Javi, it’s okay, we can just- Oh!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s back was to the bed, dragging your body across his chest until you were straddling just below his shoulders, his hands digging into your ass and pulling you closer towards him. 

“Nuh uh. I just need a few. Lemme make you feel good, baby. Please. Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy, I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up to you, please, Osita.” 

It wasn’t very often that you found yourself like this- you being the one who turned Javi into a whimpering and babbling mess, begging for forgiveness. And even though it was a position you found yourself in often, you very well knew that you were going to take advantage of every last second. 

“Oh yeah? And how are you planning on making it up to me, Javi?” You cooed, cocking your head to the side apathetically, arms crossed over your chest as you sat straddling Javi’s. 

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Fuck, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want. I wanna taste you so bad.” Javi moaned, his sweet, brown eyes pleading with you for just a taste of the arousal that had been steadily pooling between your legs. 

“Yeah?” You paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a passionate kiss, your teeth tugging at his plush bottom lip as you pulled away to nip at his jaw, “and what if I still want you to fill me up after you’re done? What if I need you to fuck me full of you?” 

“Jesus fuck…” Javi groaned under his shallow breathing, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Hermosa. I promise.” 

“Good boy.” You mewled, running your hands through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair before shuffling your body so your lace covered and soaking heat was hovering over Javi’s face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit, nudging your panties out of the way. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced your hands by burying them in his hair, tugging at the ends of his thick curls. 

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You cried, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone. 

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning. Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high. 

Dipping his tongue into your hole, his muscle plunged into your cunt, drinking up your arousal while the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit, making good on his promise to redeem himself from earlier, not letting up until he felt your body tense and legs begin to shake as you came again, feeling about as sturdy as a pile of jello at this point. 

Your body went slack, draping your upper half over Javi’s body as you felt his face free from out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin and pleading eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gazing back up at you. 

You had caught your breath enough to sit yourself back up, looking over your shoulder to see the bulge in Javi’s pants was back in full force, slowly scooting your way down his chest and stomach to sit yourself back on his lap, grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you began to gently tug at the straps of your bra, letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further. 

“You think you’re ready for me, baby? You’re gonna be a good boy and fill me up like you promised? You smirked, slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor and leave your top completely bare. 

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.  

“Good.” You smirked, “Gotta ask nicely, though.” 

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his pants down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had left additional stains on his boxers, mixing with his premature spend from earlier. 

“Hermosa, please. Please, baby. I need you to fuck me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft. 

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the arousal that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him. 

With his shaft sufficiently slick, the both of you gasped as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. Can’t wait to feel you dripping down my thighs. Gonna keep me full of you all night.” 

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly. 

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.” 

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone again. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your bedroom as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.” 

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.” 

It wasn’t often that you had seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom, and holy shit, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Javi had already cum once without you even touching him, and now, he was so worked up he was teetering on the brink of falling apart again. 

In a frantic desperation, Javi sat himself up, caging your chest against his, wrapping his arms around your back as he held you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck, sweaty curls of his hair resting against your shoulder, while he fucked up into you, each thrust becoming reckless than the last.  

“Oh fuck, Javi, fuck, don’t stop- fuck, fuck, I’m gonn-ahhhhh” 

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as you felt your body go numb, euphoria flowing through your veins while Javi fucked you through your high, quickly chasing his own. 

“That’s it baby. Fuck, Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” Javi quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside your pussy, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, his body still slumped into yours until you began running your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look back up at you, the blissed out grins on both your faces making you let out a quiet laugh of surprised disbelief at what had just happened. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier Pena.” You giggled, cupping his face, tilting it up towards yours and locking his lips in a long and tender kiss. 

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby. Fuck, that was hot. Sorry, uh- sorry about earlier.” He sighed sheepishly, gesturing over to the very thoroughly stained pair of pants now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

“It’s okay. Definitely a good confidence booster if me putting some lingerie on for you is enough to make you blow your load faster than a middle school boy.” You snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge as he rolled his eyes at you, letting out a little sigh. 

“Shut up. You have no fucking idea. God, you’re so fucking sexy, you know that? I can’t believe you get to be my Valentine for the rest of my life. I’m a lucky fucking man, I’ll tell you that much.” 

“I could say the same, handsome. I love you, Javi. Alright, what do you say we go clean up so we can have real dessert. I have a whole plate full of cookies left over from our class party, along with some very questionable candy from several 3rd graders.” 

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

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[ashurzs]

“kang minjun..” “hm?” you flinch, not expecting your bestfriend to just be right there behind you. you swear he wasn’t there before! “wha- where did you come from..?” “i was at the vending machine over there-“

he points somewhere, then twirling his finger as he shrugs. “somewhere over there.. anyways here” he hands you a drink. “ooh apple juice, thanks!”

he watches you silently as you open it and drink it, capping it and reaching into the bag that rested on one shoulder. “here wait i’ll pay you bac-“ “no”

“eh?” you look up at him, eyes so big and doe with your hand still in your bag. you see him smirk, then it turns into a smile and a cough. “yeah it’s fine”

“..whatever kat..”

“kang”

“autocorrect says otherwise!”

it was years ago when this happened, back in middle school. but for some reason when you’d type out minjun’s full name, it would turn into kat minjun. and he is a cat person, you’ve met layla before she’s a sweetheart !

“that was years ago..”

“n has that stopped me from calling you kat?”

he rolls his eyes, flicking his tongue. “whatever.”

“m-minjun.!” you whine out, arching your back while you claw at the messed up bedsheets. “g-gonna.!”

“what, already?” he pouts, stopping his harsh thrusts watching as you twitch. “wha.. why’d you..?” you’re red, you just know it with how warm your face feels.

he coos mockingly as he hears you sniffle and wipe the stray tears that fall from your eyes. “why’s my baby cryin’ now huh?”

you don’t answer, too embarrassed to say anything.

“guess i gotta fuck you to help you speak up huh?” he gives a small peck on your lips, a huge contradiction from the harsh thrust inside he does. “fuuck.!”

you drag out your moans as he pins over you, the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls something you could get addicted on. and it

“shows with how loud you’re moaning..”

“huh.?” you blink out of your trance, doe eyes glistening as you look up at the raven haired male.

“what, dick too good you can’t focus on me?” his sentence goes in one ear and out the other, but you can note how his lip piercing adorning his face nicely.

you hear a chuckle, but you don’t laugh. instead you arch your back into him. your arms wrap around his neck, trying to pull him into a messy kiss.

who’s he to deny such a sweet act hm? he kisses you back with a smile in between, his hips changing between thrusting and just grinding. but when he does grind, he notices that you get more whiny and squeeze your eyes tighter together.

“n-no.. no grinding,,!” he feels you tighten around him, drool escaping your mouth as you blabber on about not wanting him to grind. “please.. junn.. don’t wanna cum like thatt..”

“what, you embarrassed?” he says, raising an eyebrow at your lewd face. "looks like you're enjoyin it.."

"noo.!" you retort immediately, shaking your head. your eyes are still shut, but after a few seconds of silence and no movements you're forced to open to them.

you felt fingers grab and squish your cheek, his grip digging into the bones. your first response is to try and get his hands off, but he just squints at you disprovingly. "you'll take what i give you, unless you don't want anything at all?"

you shake your head slowly, pouting to the best of your ability. your mouth hurts with his tight grip, but you can't speak up. "good boy.. my good lil puppy..~"

was this jus an excuse to post AND give his name? maybe! :3

#asher's works !! #mxm smut #mxm #bottom male reader #male reader smut #male x reader #male x male #male reader #bottom reader #gay #smut #drabble #fanfic #smut drabble

[meowpupp]

This is probably a bit more self indulgent, but imagine if owner!Price decides if pup!Kyle is trained well enough to be a good boy, he trusts that he can leave him with puppy!reader

Kyle and her having the whole day to just themselves, imagine her just wandering around the couch to find the other hybrid laying on the bed just staring her like he wants to eat her <3

Being the ever so kinder one of the two, willingly spreads her legs for him, and he treats her nicely for once leaving her surprised 🥰

Other self indulgent ideas,, Hybrid pup!Kyle would probably scare off all the other hybrids from trying to sniff her sweet scent or even nip at her tail— Can’t have such a sweet thing ruined by some other mutts (Price probably trained him well for that too)

I LOVE this whole ask, but I want to focus on the second half because it's just so AHHHHGG

tw://hybrid smut, breif mention of noncon (1 sentence abt grinding), knotting, CHUBBY READER PER USUAL, unedited 😭😭

price who knows you're a pretty girl. he takes pride in it, making sure both you and gaz are well taken care of. you're precious, and he treats you as such.

but price isn't stupid either. he knows that when dumb street mutts pick up on your sweet scent, they cant help but drool and pull at their leashes. it's partly not their fault, a pretty young thing like you? prime age to carry a pup or two of your own? he has to keep you on a tight leash, or else you might just be bred by some big, mean mutt at the dog park.

everytime he takes you out, let's you off leash, you always end up being bullied. other dog hybrids twice you size nipping your tail, your ears. they push you to the ground, grinding their tents against you. they can't help it! your fat hips are perfect for breeding, and the short skirts price has you in are all too easy to push up.

half the time you come back from the park frazzled and overwhelmed. poor cunt all slick n wet as your body craves to be fucked. those are the times price lets you ride your toys. the fake knot is your only relief, even if the silicone isn't nearly as thick and long as price.

but then kyle comes along. a mean looking hybrid. he's tall, broad and lean. he was born to guard and protect, which was awfully convient for price.

the other pup is practically stuck to your side. like a bodyguard, he's never out of sight. once glance from him and most other hybrids scamper. he rarely has to get aggressive, but when he does, it's downright terrifying.

kyle flares up, shoulders taught, teeth grit. he can't help the deep growl that ripples from his chest. he pushes you behind him, and if Price wasn't there to call him off, he'd rip the other mutt apart.

but it doesn't stop there. the whole day he's on edge. he can't help it, his entire world is you. you're his mate, his pup, his girl. and the thought of someone else shoving their cocks into your tight cunt, fucking you full? it makes him feral.

price has found that there's only one way to help calm kyle down. letting him fuck his cum deep in your woumb. the pup practically snarling and growling into your neck, fingerprints leaving marks on your hips as he practically muals your neck. he can't help but knott you, pumping you full with so much cum is practically makes your tummy bloat.

marking you his. ensuring no other mutt even glances your way.

taglist! (I'm sorry I forget to do this all the time) @titaniasfairy @notalwaysa (?)

#price lets kyle sleep while cockwarming you #park indicent happened 3x then price would been like #“yeah nah fuck this.” #can you tell im australian HAHAHAHA #captain price x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #price x reader #john price x reader #price x chubby!puppygirl #price x female reader #price x reader smut #female reader #gaz x reader smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #klye garrick x reader smut #john price x reader smut #pupkyle x pupreader x ownerprice #pupkyle x pupreader

[gimmeurtmi]

when are you coming home? — seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

tags: friends to lovers, situationship-ish, boys on tour, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, sexting, dirty talk, undefined relationship status, lewds, a painfully obvious hand kink that is not a reflection on me in any way shape or form 🙃, alcohol, drunk!reader, phone calls, fingering, countless cockblocking, mention of toys.

inspo: ……hands.

wc — 4384

notes: this was supposed to be a short blurb. also ty to @lino-nyangi for giving me the confidence to finish this 🫶🏻

you were a fool. a complete fool.

you just made out with your friend the night before he goes away for his world tour for a good few months. you just ruined your friendship, put yourself in a horrible situation that won’t be resolved until he comes home, risking the chance of him coming back and being too awkward to even talk to you.

you just made out with your friend the night before he goes away for his world tour for a good few months. you just ruined your friendship, put yourself in a horrible situation that won’t be resolved until he comes home, risking the chance of him coming back and being too awkward to even talk to you.

all because you were thinking with your heart (and maybe your pussy was making some good points too) and not your brain. your brain would’ve said to stop. it did say to stop.

but you chose to focus on kim seungmin’s lips instead.

it wasn’t like he didn’t kiss you back… in fact, he was the one who grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. he was the one who slid his tongue into your mouth. he was the one who said your name softly as you pulled away.

and you were the one with a cockblock of a roommate who had to call you at that exact moment to say they forgot their keys and they’re stuck outside in the cold.

looking down at seungmin’s puppy eyes made it near impossible to care about your friend’s wellbeing, but you snapped out of it and sighed.

“i need to go home,” you said, hands flat against seungmin’s chest.

he nodded at you, jaw clenched lightly before he sighed the tension away. then he smiled.

“do you need me to walk you?”

“no, it’s okay, they’re so desperate to get out of the cold that they’re calling me a taxi.”

“when’s it getting here?” he asked, and you noticed his hands were still firmly on your hips. they were warm, which made it impossible to miss just how much of your skin was covered by their warmth.

you looked down at your phone and the tracker map, the taxi was still seven minutes away.

“then come here,” he mumbled, snaking a hand onto your cheek and pulling you back to his lips.

his lips were so soft, and he tasted of the cupcakes you were eating when you watched that movie together—right now you couldn’t even remember the plot of it. all you could think about was the sweet coffee frosting and the way his tongue moved so skilfully against yours. all you could think about was his firm chest against your palms, the way you couldn’t quite tell who’s heart beat you were feeling underneath them.

and then your phone rang again and it was the driver and you grabbed your things and seungmin walked you outside and you wished him good luck on his tour and then you were gone and the next day he was gone and it’s been a week and not a single word from him.

when you finished all your work that day and retrieved your phone from where you were charging it you saw a few new messages.

seung: tour has been super busy so far i don’t think i’ve slept more than six hours this week

seung: if i dissociate hard enough does that count as a nap?

seung: also tell ur roommate they’re on my hit list now

you: why are they on ur hit list????

you: and please sleep minnie

seung: i can’t believe they ruined my one shot

you: wdym

seung: the thought of you kissing me won’t leave my head

seung: since chan’s bday party it’s all i wanted

seung: then i get that and you’re gone

you: you’re gone too mate you’re in fucking thailand

seung: and if i wasn’t in thailand?

you: what..?

seung: if i was home now. what would happen?

you take in a deep breath before you type your next words, a tingling sensation running through the tips of your fingers.

you: if it was up to me?

you: something something your fingers

seung: i don’t speak shy

you: you’re gonna make me say it??

seung: only if you want me to do it

you: kim seungmin

seung: no need to be so formal

you: if you were home now i think it would be nice if your fingers were inside me while we kissed some more

you: if that’s something you wanted ofc

seung: fuck

seung: yeah yeah that’s something i want

seung: that’s something i really really want

seung: i need to go soundcheck now fuck

seung: will be thinking of that forever thanks

you fell asleep with your phone still in your hand, trying to distract yourself with tiktoks until seungmin had another spare moment for you. but that moment only came at 5:47 am when he texted you saying he had no idea what to have for dinner. you asked him what he ended up getting to which he only replied ten hours later.

you were used to communicating like this with him. when he was on tour he was always busy, going from one place to the next and doing interviews and shows, and of course, timezones played a part too. but you noticed this time he was making more of an effort, always texting you random details about his day when he had the chance.

and you did the same for him in return, always snapping pictures of your lunch and sometimes of your outfits too.

before you kissed him, he’d just say normal things. friend things. like “that looks cute!” and “why are you wearing a hat it’s winter”.

now he’s a bit more forward. or maybe it was because you innocently snapped a picture that showed off your body pretty well, in an outfit that was meant to do the same.

seung: where are you going?

you: to the clubs!

seung: yeah you look hot like that

you: thanks

seung: you gonna shoot your shot?

you: i already did

seung: and how did that turn out?

you: got kissed and then abandoned :(

seung: who would do that

you: some guy who cares more about his fans than he cares about me

seung: that is so not true

seung: promise me something?

you: what….

seung: don’t kiss anyone or flirt with anyone

seung: please

you: seung. what is that supposed to mean?

seung: that outfit is gonna drive me crazy

seung: ur body

seung: u could get anyone you wanted you know that?

you: way to avoid the question

seung: it’s all the media training :)

you: i’m not gonna promise anything if you don’t give me a reason

seung: goddamit you know the reason

seung: just… please.

you: seungmin.

seung: i just don’t think it would be fair. i’m not there to beat the other people to it

you: what other people?

seung: i wanna be the only one

it was around two in the morning when you arrived home, the alcohol still rushing through your body and blurring your vision slightly. even though you didn’t make any promises to seungmin, there wasn’t any reason to. no one has been able to catch your attention ever since you first started developing a crush on him, and after kissing him (and the constant flirting since) it was obvious to you you didn’t want anyone else. but seungmin didn’t need to know that yet.

you texted him to tell him you were home, like he asked you too, and a few moments later an incoming facetime call drew your attention to your phone.

you quickly answered it.

“minnie!” you slurred, waving at the camera enthusiastically.

“drunk?” he chuckled.

“obviously,” you rolled your eyes.

it was then you noticed he was wearing his stage outfit, spotting his overalls and jewellery and in-ears.

“you look so good,” you groaned. he laughed. “when’s the show?”

“in like two hours,” he nodded, looking to the side to supposedly check the time. but all you saw was his jaw.

“woah,” you sighed, “god.”

“huh?”

“you’re so hot,”

“you’re still in that outfit,” he retorted.

“well, i can take it off if you really want,” you said before you could even register what you were thinking.

seungmin jumped in his seat, eyes wide and staring at you.

“if i take my shirt off will you give me something in return?”

“huh?” was all he managed.

“can you show me your hands?”

“yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, “anything you want. but—“

you crossed your arms in front of you, rolling the bottom of your shirt up your stomach before seungmin put his hand up as if saying stop. so you did.

“what is it?”

“you’re drunk and i shouldn’t let you.”

“you don’t wanna see my tits?” you grabbed them, drawing his undivided attention to your chest.

“god, how much i want that,” he grumbled. “but not like this. i wanna see you for the first time when i get home.”

you pouted at him, which sent even more of his blood rushing towards his dick. he clenched his jaw tightly.

“did you keep your promise?” he decided to change the subject.

you nodded quickly. “obviously. wouldn’t wanna fuck anyone that isn’t you.”

evidently, any filter you had had drowned in the alcohol and was now rendered useless.

seungmin gaped at you.

“you want us to fuck?”

“so bad,” you groaned, “like, if i was there and you just had two hours to chill i’d beg you to fuck me in your dressing room.”

“you’re trying to kill me,” seungmin mumbled.

“you know ever since chan’s party i think of you when i touch myself,” you said, casually.

so casually that seungmin was left to blink at you as the words registered in his brain.

“what do you think about?”

“i dunno,” you shrugged, bringing a finger to your collarbone subconsciously, “just… being with you.”

“oh, like—“ but before seungmin could say anything else han walked into his room, speaking loudly about something to do with the food he found for lunch.

you said hello to jisung and talked to him for a few more minutes before felix came into the room as well.

you could see seungmin’s side eye at his members, and it made you giggle loudly, but neither of them focused on that too much when they realised you were just drunk.

after a catch up with felix you decided you were tired and went to bed.

seungmin couldn’t believe how bad his luck is.

seungmin’s wish to see you for the first time in person was quickly forgotten. the more times you asked him if he wanted to see you, the more he considered just how long it was gonna be before he came home. so when you suggested it again on one of your two am facetime calls, seungmin let out a breathy “please.”

he bit his lip, smiling cheekily at you as he watched you through the screen running your hands up and down your chest.

he brought his thumb to his lips, mumbling something as he clearly wasn’t focusing on your face.

“what was that?”

“you’re so beautiful,” he said, rolling his eyes in frustration. “i wish i was there.”

“only a few more weeks, minnie,” you reminded him, shifting around to show off a better angle of your body.

“i wanna touch you and hold you and kiss you and fuck you and—“ he groaned again, “—this is so unfair. why can’t you come out here?”

“because—“

“—i’ll pay for everything, we’ll book a room for you and whatever you need.”

“i can’t ask work to just let me go next week.”

“then the week after?”

“i need to ask like six months in advance,” you sighed.

“that’s such bullshit. quit your job and come on tour with us.”

“and you’ll pay my rent and my bills and my t—“

“i’ll pay for everything,” he repeated. and although it gave you butterflies you knew that wasn’t realistic. you couldn’t ask that of him, and besides, you didn’t want that. you did want to see him, but you also had your life. and that came first.

“whatever you say, minnie,” you dropped it quickly.

“okay,” he knew to drop it as well, blinking the bangs away from his eyes as his gaze settled back on your face.

“i do really miss you. regardless of all the things we’ve been talking about lately. i wanna hang out with you again.”

“yeah,” you smiled at him, “i miss you, too. when are you coming home?”

the tour was coming to an end, the last few shows left. you still talked to seungmin almost every day, about work and your life and his life and the tour and everything in between. and most nights it would end up with most of your clothes off in front of each other, whispering dirty things down the phone.

with only a couple weeks left, you were really starting to lose your patience. you felt a longing for seungmin, which wasn’t new, but with it being obvious that the only thing in your way now was distance it drove you insane. you dreamt about him and thought about him and wanted him.

you never thought your stupid kiss would lead to anything other than awkwardness, but making your feelings known to seungmin was all he needed to push him out of the pining phase and into the chasing the girl he liked phase.

as you were eating your breakfast you opened your social media and started scrolling aimlessly; until you gasped, finger hovering above your screen as you stopped on seungmin’s latest instagram post. you weren’t even sure if he was trying to take a picture of his face at all—when all anyone could see was his hands.

his really really beautiful hands.

without even thinking about it you opened your chat with him and typed out a quick message. before you could overthink it you switch back to the pictures, admiring them in their full glory.

you: kim seungmin.

seung: either you’re mad at something or you opened instagram

you: so it was an intentional attack i see

seung: yes

seung: planned and executed to perfection

you: and what might this attack be in retaliation too?

seung: had a dirty dream about you

seung: needed your attention

you: could’ve just asked????

seung: not as fun

you: what was your dream about?

next came a voice message. you squeezed your thighs without even realising it, anticipation crawling up your skin as you pressed play.

seungmin went into great detail about a date in one of the fancy restaurants he visited in japan recently, about how cute you looked and that felix was your waiter and there were only cupcakes on the menu.

and then he laughed, deep and slow, before he said, “and you just dragged me to the roof of that restaurant and begged me. you were on your knees and everything.”

you started typing, urging him to tell you more about this dream of his when another message came through.

“as soon as i touched you i woke up, which is ironic considering we keep getting cockblocked by someone.”

“felix would be a good waiter,” you recorded back, “but i wouldn’t trust him with a tower of cups.”

“is that your main takeaway?” he laughed loudly. you could almost picture him covering his smile with his hand.

“sucking you off on a roof would be cool,” you shrugged, even if he couldn’t see it.

his laughed echoed through your ears before he wished you a good day, and told you to eat lots of food.

you knew seungmin was back home when he called you through his normal number and not his apple id.

“what are your plans tonight?” he asked, before saying hello or anything else.

“i’m having dinner with my friends,” you said.

“do you want me to pick you up after?”

“no,” you let the silence stretch for a second or two before adding, “it’s close to yours so i’ll just come over after?”

“you had to be a little shit, huh?” you can hear his smirk. you’ve grown so used to only hearing him, and sometimes seeing him through your phone, your heart races at the idea of getting to see him in front of you.

it’s eight hours later when you knock on seungmin’s door.

he opened the door, your chest rising as you took in a deep breath. his hair looked much brighter in person, and he was a little more tan than the pictures showed. and he was smiling at you as he flicked his bangs away from his face.

“hello,” he said, formally, bowing at you.

you slapped his chest, pushing past him as you toed off your shoes and walked inside.

“you have no manners,” he tsked at you, as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

“i missed you,” you mumbled into his hoodie, locking your arms behind his back and squeezing him closer to you.

you could feel his chin resting against your head, his thumb rubbing against your shoulder.

and then his finger wrapped around your chin as he brought your face up to his, brushing your lips together.

he pulled away, ever so slightly, smiling softly down at you.

“hi,” he grinned.

“hi,” you sighed.

he brought his hand to your cheek, pulling you in closer, kissing you passionately. it was as if all those months apart was leading to this moment, to the what if you never had to leave that first night you kissed him.

somehow you got pinned against the kitchen counter, and then seungmin grabbed onto your thighs, mumbling a soft “up,” against your lips before he lifted you onto the cold marble.

he slotted himself easily between your legs, his arms caging your body from either side.

“wait,” you said, pushing at his shoulders. the pair of you caught your breaths, looking at each other with nothing but want. but as soon as you pushed him away seungmin straightened himself up, creating more distance between you.

“where are the boys?”

“out,” seungmin nodded, “i told them not to come back without warning.”

you laughed loudly at that. “so we’re not getting cockblocked this time?”

“we most definitely are,” he sighed dramatically, “but this time it won’t be seconds before i take my dick out.”

the memory from that one call in melbourne was still painful in your mind, hyunjin coming into seungmin’s room at the worst possible moment. but at least the pair of you could laugh about it now.

“let’s test that theory,” you grinned, running your hand down his shoulder and all the way to the band of his sweats. you gripped it as you pulled him closer to you.

seungmin’s eyes gaped at you, his jaw dropping slightly before he started laughing.

you locked eyes with him, silently asking him if you could keep going. the eager look in his eyes was enough to tell you to cup him through his sweats.

he brought his hands to your knees, gliding them upwards before he grabbed your thighs and pushed them open.

you captured his lips in yours, a small groan leaving his lips as you started palming him through the soft material, his cock hardening under your touch.

seungmin wasted no time in returning the favour, running his thumb up and down your core as the kiss got more passionate, more sloppy.

“bedroom?” he asked when you pulled away for air.

you practically jumped off the counter, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards his bedroom.

his suitcase still stood in the corner of the room but you didn’t say anything about it, mainly because seungmin lifted you up and placed you in the middle of the bed before you registered what was going on.

then his lips were on yours again, and so were his hips, and the pair of you moved against each other—small moans filling the room.

“god, i can’t believe this,” he mumbled against your skin, kissing your neck and jaw as his hand inched closer to your chest. “i waited so long for this.”

“me too, minnie,” you nodded, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm. “want your hands.”

“where do you want them?” he smirked, watching in awe as you started kissing his knuckles, his fingers, his wrist.

“anywhere,” you giggled, “everywhere.”

“like them that much?” he raised his eyebrows, grinding his hips into yours. the pressure was just right, a loud moan leaving your lips. seungmin repeated his actions, eyes locked on your lips as you kept kissing every part of his hand you could.

his other hand slid underneath your shirt, grabbing your chest as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

you arched your back at the pleasure, neglecting your task of admiring his hand.

“y/n,” he called your attention, finger running against your lips, “focus, yeah?”

you nodded, kissing the tip of his finger. you weren’t sure what possessed you to do what you did next, but you slowly opened your mouth and let his finger fall against your tongue. then you sucked on it, giggling slightly at seungmin’s bewilderment.

he only started moving faster, urged on by your muffled moans, before he scrunched your shirt all the way up and started kissing your chest.

“seung,” you breathed, slipping your hand into his hair. you didn’t need to tell him anything else as he slowly wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking and smiling as you arched your back in response.

he planted more kisses against your chest and then your stomach and then over your leggings, where the wet patch was getting embarrassingly visible.

“want my fingers here, bubs?” he asked, carefully, running a light finger over the spot you seemed to enjoy the most.

you nodded eagerly.

he slipped his hand into your underwear, smirking at you as he slowly rubbed the tip of his finger around your entrance.

“wet…” he mumbled softly, “wet and warm.”

“minnie, please,” you bucked your hips up.

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“i know what you want,” he kissed your cheek, “so just trust that i’ll give it to you.”

“but,” you sighed, “waited so long.”

“what’s another five minutes then?” he smiled, rubbing up and down your folds.

“you were gone for weeks,” you complained, but it fell short when his finger rubbed your clit softly and you gasped desperately.

“and i wanted you for months,” he said, face inches away from yours. “god, i’ve wanted you for ages. thought about you all the time, wishing i could have you.”

“then have me, seungmin, stop teasing,” you whined.

he clicked his tongue again. “payback and all.”

“how is it payback when i wanted you too?” you exclaimed, laughing airily.

“didn’t say anything,” he shrugs, “so i’m teaching you to use your words better. for next time.”

“next time?” you blinked.

“mhm,” he started circling your entrance again, pushing his finger in slowly, “next time.”

he sunk his finger all the way inside you, the length enough that you could feel a pressure in your stomach. and although seungmin really wanted to keep teasing you, the reaction he got was too good—and so he pushed his fingers in again and again and again until you were chanting at him not to stop.

and then you came all over his fingers.

seungmin softly kissed your shoulder as you caught your breath, brushing your hair out of your face. he slowly pulled his fingers away, delicately, and was about to grab a tissue from his nightstand before you grabbed his wrist.

he looked at you questioningly, his jaw dropping when you brought his fingers to your mouth again and licked them clean.

“holy fuck,” he chuckled. “i fucking—“

and then his phone rang. “oh, im gonna kill someone. yeah, im going to kill them.”

you chuckled at him when you looked over at his phone and spotted felix’s caller id.

seungmin answered, huffing out a sound as a greeting. “cool, thanks.”

he threw his phone into the pillow before he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your chest. “they’re on the way back now.”

you soothed his grumbling, running your hands across his shoulder softly.

“that’s okay. do you wanna watch a movie now?”

after you cleaned yourself up the pair of you migrated to the living room, putting on a movie you both watched before as you snuggled closer to seungmin’s chest. he had his arm around your shoulder, his finger playing with your hair.

even though the movie was playing, and you were supposed to act normal, you still spent your time kissing his knuckles—unable to just not when his hands were so beautiful. seungmin laughed at you for it.

when the boys got back, jeongin made a comment at how he thought seungmin was actually getting some and that’s why they were asked to leave.

“thanks for that,” seungmin said, sarcastically. the boys didn’t notice how you buried yourself in the blanket as a blush crept up your neck.

the next day seungmin told you he was leaving again in two days for some fansign event for their album. it wasn’t an airplane away, but it was far, and he wouldn’t be back for a few days.

“but don’t worry, i got you something to make up for it.”

“you got me something?” you gasped. “no, you didn’t need to at all!”

“it’s for me too,” he smirked at you.

just then the waiter came around to ask for your orders.

“what does that mean?” you whispered after they left.

“you’ll see. it’s getting posted to yours.”

three days later, after sending seungmin a selfie on your walk home so he could see you were safe, you found a package by your door.

you quickly opened it, knowing it was seungmin’s gift as you didn’t order anything.

you felt your whole body tingle when you realised what it was. an app controlled vibrator.

you: kim seungmin.

seung <3: it isn’t my hands, but think you wanna use it?

you: yes!!!!! but only if you still send me mirror selfies.

seung <3: obvs. tell me when to turn it on babe

you: you’re gonna use this for evil, huh?

seung <3: don’t act like we’ve just met

you: ugh. menace

seung <3: your menace 😗

you: …

you: i hate you.

you: when are you coming home?

#skz x reader #all.works #stray kids x reader #skz x y/n #skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin