#they both like a bold pattern it seems

[hyunsvngs]

𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 11.1k

cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment

synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.

a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re intrigued.

Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.

Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.

“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”

“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”

“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.

Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.

It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.

You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.

Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.

“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”

“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”

“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”

Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”

“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”

“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”

“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”

“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”

“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”

“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.

His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”

Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.

Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”

You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”

“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”

“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.

“It’s not a crush-”

“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.

“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”

Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.

The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.

A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?

The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.

Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.

The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-

A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.

“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”

“I-I-”

“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”

“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”

“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.

You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?

What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.

“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.

It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.

Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…

In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.

Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands… What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-

A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.

Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.

Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”

“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”

He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”

He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”

“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”

“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”

You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”

He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”

You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.

“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”

“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”

“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.

“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”

“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”

“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”

You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”

“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”

“I’m not telling you that-”

“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”

“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”

He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”

“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”

“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”

“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”

“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”

“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”

He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”

You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”

“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”

“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”

“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

“Can I know?”

He turns to you. “Know what?”

“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”

He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”

“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”

“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”

You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?

Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”

You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.

First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?

Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.

Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.

Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.

You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.

“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”

He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”

“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”

He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”

He gulps audibly. “Nope.”

“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”

“He, uh- really? Did he?”

“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”

Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”

“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.

Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

“I knew it.”

He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.

“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”

“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”

He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”

You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.

“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”

“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.

“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”

You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.

“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”

“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”

You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.

“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”

He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”

“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”

Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.

You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.

“I- Jisung?!”

“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”

You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-

You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.

When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.

You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”

“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”

He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.

“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“

He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”

“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”

He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.

“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“

You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.

It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.

“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”

“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”

You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”

The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.

He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.

It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”

“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”

“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.

Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.

It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.

Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.

You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”

“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“

“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”

“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“

You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.

The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.

“You look fine.”

“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.

His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.

“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”

The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“

“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.

“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”

You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“

“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.

Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.

You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.

“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”

You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”

“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”

“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.

You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.

You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”

Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”

“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”

“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”

He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”

You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”

You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”

Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”

“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.

“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.

The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.

You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.

“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”

You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.

“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.

His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”

He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.

“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”

It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.

Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.

“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.

He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.

“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“

You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.

“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”

“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.

“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.

His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.

Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.

“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”

He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“

“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”

“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“

“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“

He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.

“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“

“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.

“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”

“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”

“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”

“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“

“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”

“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”

“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”

He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”

“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“

The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”

“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”

“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“

He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.

“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.

Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.

It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.

“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”

“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”

“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”

You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”

You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.

#juno’s fics ♡ #han jisung smut #han jisung x you #han jisung fic #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #jisung smut #jisung fic #jisung fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios

[hanihaato]

a/n: yandere aventurine x female reader, suggestive, non-consensual touching and forced kisses

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t say a word, darling,” a glowed finger pressed to your lips makes words die on your tongue almost as effectively as the Aventurine’s vivid, piercing eyes. Except for the shallow breaths, you stay in silence, and he glides his hand from your lips to cup your cheekbone. “I must say, you are really bold, testing my connections like that to find you. Being sceptical is a great quality…”

He pushes you onto the bed and lays on top of you, interlocking your fingers together so you don’t ever try to push him off yourself. He stares at you, his smile growing smug with your every try to wiggle out yourself of the embrace.

Aventurine’s head falls on your shoulder. You shiver as he chuckles and his warm breath sends a chill through your spine he muchly adores tracing his fingers on.

“…But not when it comes to me.”

You turn your head away from him. Ugh, you wish you could have at least a full day without him, but you could pride yourself in having a plan good enough to escape the room he locked you up two weeks ago when you first arrived on this planet.

Though, it hurts your ego a bit that Aventurine doesn’t seem to be bothered at all.

He shifts on the bed, and you hate how the sheets that smelled of the hotel’s cleanliness are already starting to stink with his perfumes. The smell you once loved now suffocates you with each breath.

He wraps his arm around your waist so he spoons your back for a second before grasping you tighter and throwing you over himself, having you face him. He entangles your legs before you can think of hitting him with a knee.

You whisper into the pillows.

“…At least I know you are a real deal.”

Aventurine chuckles in a tone you would find endearing if you didn’t feel he laughs at you. When he first started to show you the best parts of the world he’s been living in—the casinos that always had a nice pianist playing on a grand piano, the numerous vine tastings, the breakfasts that make your mouth water, clothing that feels like silk in touch—you could hear the tone everywhere, usually just by your ear. He then told you how he loved how your eyes shone and how much more enchanting you look every day.

You wonder which night he started to plan to cut you off from both worlds, yours and his, to only have him as your everything.

“That’s news to me,” he says, theatrically raising his eyebrows. “You didn’t believe me at all? You must know, darling, that everything I told you after we got together is true. That’s a real privilege right there.”

His finger starts to trace circular patterns on your forearm’s skin. Your heart throbs painfully.

“Aventurine…” Your voice is as demanding as can be the voice of a woman squished in the arms of a man who knows how to use words and guns. “I don’t believe you really love me. That’s not how love looks like.”

The man is still in his position. He blinks, and his eyes are fully on you. You have yet to find out if that look is a warning for you or whether he is enticed by what are you saying. Or maybe he just wants to hear your voice—you know Aventurine is not a man above misleading you into believing you aren’t in a hopeless position just to hear your pleas.

“When you love someone, you want the best for them. You want— You see them as equals. You don’t strip them of what they love to do, and… and people they love. You just… join their life and slowly build a new one together…”

When you fall silent, Aventurine pulls you in and with the other hand brushes hair off your face.

He hums. “That’s an inspiring speech. Oh, and I loved how you looked when you talked about it. Such a view. You must’ve thought about it for quite a while, huh?” He pats you on the head, lingering a bit to loosely twirl your hair on his fingers. “But, dearest, everything you’ve said, well, it all checks out.”

“No.”

“I do view as equals. We have a trade: my everlasting love for a bit of your freedom. It looks like a good deal.”

“It doesn’t look like—”

Aventurine shuts you up with a kiss. You hate, hate, hate this feeling, because in these moments you wonder if you could ever truly fall in love with a man you despise that gives you the hugs you long for and kisses you think about for days.

As he pulls away, with your free hand, you wipe off the traces of the kiss on your lips. Of course, you know it’s meaningless—he kissed you many times, you would have to count in hundreds at least—he will revenge you for that later.

“Awh, don’t be like that,” He says, kissing you again and holding your wrists this time. “You know, I pride myself in being a good businessman. If you are going to put your undying love for me, I will give you the freedom back.”

“You may beg all you want, but with begging you can’t get my love.”

It’s a brave thing to say when you are at the mercy of a man who’s famished for your affection.

“Hm, is that so?” Aventurine chuckles, but for the first time in the evening, it lacks the usual flippancy. He begins to pepper your neck with kisses, and you feel his sturdy hands travel down your stomach and a tugging on your shirt. “Well, say what you want, darling. But since you’ve been by my side for such a long time, you must know I only engage in bets I know I will win.”

#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine #aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #the act

[suzukiblu]

what do you have for Clark kent?

Clark is the last son of Krypton.

Clark is the last of Krypton.

At least, that's what he thought thirty seconds ago.

"Uh," the kid standing in the middle of the broken-up Metropolis street in front of him says awkwardly, a gloved hand half-covering the bright and bold and undeniable emblem on his chest. There's a lot of surrounding property damage, a lot of staring civilians hovering on the sidewalk, and some very upset police officers cuffing up some very unconscious metahuman gang members. Clark can't even begin to bring himself to care about any of it. "Hey . . . ?"

"Hello," Diana says, raising a curious eyebrow at both the kid and the ridiculous mess that's somehow been made of the street. From the look of it maybe one of those gang members had some kind of tectonic-based abilities or something similar, but Clark continues not to care. "It seems we've encountered an admirer of yours, Kal."

"You're wearing that crest without permission," Bruce says flatly, looking less amused than Clark has seen him since the last time someone died on the League's watch.

Clark, meanwhile, can't say anything at all.

"Hey, Superman gave me permission, okay?!" the kid protests, bristling defensively. Clutching the emblem . . . protectively. Like he's afraid to have it taken away. "Just not, uh . . . this one."

"This one." Bruce frowns. The kid flattens his hand against his chest and just . . . shrugs, looking away. Clark can't look away from him at all. He looks like . . . he looks . . .

"Yeah," the kid says, gesturing a little directionlessly with his free hand. "I'm kinda not, like . . . local? There was like this whole thing, like with Hypertime and–it's complicated, okay? Just, like, it's an alternate reality issue. I'm sort of, uh . . . lost. Or–stranded, more like. I guess more like . . . stranded."

The kid swallows. Drops his hand away from the emblem and folds his arms over it instead.

Keeps standing there, looking like . . .

"Are you, now," Bruce says neutrally, and he's definitely going somewhere with that, but–

"You're Kryptonian," Clark blurts, because he can't hold the words back a moment longer. Diana and Bruce both go very still beside him. The kid just looks surprised.

"Uh, not really?" he says. "I mean, okay, sort of. I'm a binary clone of . . . you know, like a hybrid? Um, they based me off, well . . . our Superman. And then, like, stitched me up with human DNA to hold me together 'cuz the Kryptonian genome is a freaking nightmare and they couldn't really figure it out all that well, so otherwise I would've degraded and–uh. Sorry."

Clark feels something he doesn't think he's ever felt in his life, looking at this kid. Feels like he's been dragging himself through the uncanny valley and finally seen the other side of the thing; like he's finally crossed through the fog and darkness and come out into the clear light of day and seen what people are actually supposed to look like. Everything about him is just . . . right. The pitch of his voice, the slope of his shoulders, the way the sunlight reflects off his skin, the pattern of spokes in his irises, the color of his eyes, the weight of him in the world . . .

Clark wants to snatch this kid up and wrap him in his cape and never let anything else touch him. Never let him be hurt or upset or–or alone. Never. Not for anything.

He feels the way he's heard people describe feeling when they first met . . . when they first . . .

He feels the way he's heard people describe feeling when they first met their child. A sense of awe and wonder and . . . and . . .

He feels like he felt the first time he left the atmosphere and saw all of Earth all at once. Everything on it, everyone on it. The whole thing all together, all the same. Perfect.

Complete.

He's never loved anything this immediately, Clark realizes distantly. Not even that first full glimpse of Earth.

He can't imagine how he ever, ever could have.

"What's your name?" he asks, unable to shake the intensity of emotion held painfully tight in his chest. Not even wanting to shake it.

The kid looks–worried, almost. Puts his hands behind his back. Clark can see the full image of the El crest emblazoned in pride of place across his chest for the first time, and it makes him feel weak.

"Superboy," the kid says. "Um . . . Kon-El."

Clark's heart could burst, hearing that.

Or break.

"Kon-El," he echoes, forcing himself not to step in closer; not to crowd the kid. "I had a . . . on Krypton, before it was destroyed, there was . . ."

"A cousin. From the, uh, second house of El," the kid–Kon-El–agrees, shifting just barely anxiously. "My Superman said I . . . reminded him of him, like from what he saw in the recordings and all? So, uh . . ."

"I named you after him?" Clark asks wonderingly. He would've given the kid a human name over a Kryptonian one, himself, but then again, a public street in an alternate dimension isn't really the place for him to be introducing himself as "Jon Kent" or anything similar. Kon nods stiffly, drawing himself up a bit.

"Yeah," he says. "He said, uh–um. He said Kon-El was strong-willed. And . . . uh . . ."

He trails off, looking nervous, and then visibly steels himself and looks defensive again instead.

"He said I was family," he says, squaring his shoulders and lifting his jaw, like he's actually expecting someone to argue with him or something. "So he gave me that name."

Clark doesn't know who the hell made this kid so much as hesitate over saying that to any version of him that isn't an active supervillain, but he thinks he'd like to throw them into the Phantom Zone for a century or two. Just . . . that's all.

Or maybe three.

#clark kent #kon el #superman #superboy #superfamily #plotbunny-bundle #rinfic #long post #wip: the last son of krypton meets hypertime kon

[targaryen-dynasty]

LOVE ME TOMORROW (aka Stay)

Part 1 of 2 -> LOVE ME NOW

modern!Aemond Targaryen x best friend!Reader

You always thought the benefits part only included sex, but with Aemond it also seems to include cuddling, life advice and breakfast.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; profanity, p in v, missionary, doggy style, choking, degrading, humiliating, unprotected sex, size kink, slight breeding kink, praise kink, rough sex, friends with benefits kinda turning into a relationship, fluff, teasing, jealous Aemond Targaryen, female Reader

WORDS: 3.5 k

NOTES: Used a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting for this. Smut below the cut.

The thing between you and Aemond had been going on for roughly five months at this point. Was it even a thing? You both were hooking up with each other whenever you felt like it. Sometimes it was only one message a week exchanged between your two, other times it was seven. That usually depended on how busy you both were with college, or how badly one of you needed a distraction from it. And you always kept things casual.

But weirdly, some things had turned into habits you both did not bother to address. 

Whenever Aemond and you hooked up at your place, he tended to stay a little longer than anticipated, like one-movie-and-two-rounds-of-fucking long. You always thought the benefits part of being friends with benefits only included sex, but with Aemond it also seemed to include cuddling and life advice.

Another weird habit was that the both of you never seemed to settle on just watching movies anymore, and instead did the most domestic things together. The movie was just to give you both some background noises, whilst you showed him some funny memes or he decided to rant about whatever pissed him off that day. 

So, technically, your friends with benefits situationship was dangerously close to turning into a relationship. 

But neither of you felt bold enough to bring the topic up, the fear of being rejected by the other one far too big. It was a high risk to take, considering you both enjoyed each other’s company. 

Those habits also were the main reason the blonde boy was currently laying in your bed with one arm crossed behind his head and his other snaking behind your neck with his hand anchored at your shoulder to keep your body comfortably nestled against his. His fingers were fidgeting with the fabric of the oversized t-shirt you wore. His t-shirt. 

It was one of the evenings he complained about his older brother Aegon, listing all the things Aemond deemed were going wrong in Aegon’s life, whilst you drew lazy patterns on his naked torso, your index finger carefully following the sharp outlines of his abs. “Are you even listening?“ The baritone of his voice cut in, catching your attention. “I–yeah… sure,“ you stressed, tilting your head upwards to look at him with a concerned frown on your forehead.  

You were flashing him your biggest puppy dog eyes as an attempt to convince him, but Aemond did not seem to buy your lies. “What is it?“ With the way he sighed ever so slightly before asking the question, you were sure he was disappointed he had spent the past 15 minutes of his life telling you stuff you didn’t even care about. And considering how quiet he was the first days and nights you had spent alongside each other, you couldn’t even be mad at him. He trusted you–coming out of his tough shell.

“It’s just…,“ you shifted next to him in order to sit up and be able to perfectly meet his eye. Your thumb and index finger pinched the bridge of your nose, and with a desperate sigh leaving your lips, it was sure the next words weren’t leaving your mouth too easily, “…I met Jace at the frat party yesterday.“ 

The clenching of Aemond’s jaw at the mere mention of your ex-boyfriend was perfectly visible, and a reaction you knew was coming. It always did whenever you mentioned him, even though you had only talked about him briefly before and only once your situationship with Aemond became a bit more serious, teetering on the edge of turning into a relationship. 

Despite your sitting position, Aemond kept his hand on your shoulder, but it was short of being gentle and soft with his fingers slightly digging into your flesh–another indicator that he was all but pleased about the mention of your ex. You weren’t even sure why he acted that way whenever the topic came up, but you always blamed it on Aemond not wanting to talk about things that were threatening to deepen your relationship. Juxtaposing his urge to talk about his family issues, though.

“And what did he want?“ He asked, stern eye fixed with yours. 

Aemond was intense. In everything he did. And as of right now, it was the intensity of his gaze that had your composure crumbling, resulting in you fidgeting with your fingers in order to pull your thoughts away from him. You didn’t notice your head bowing forwards in what one could capture as submission, too eager to please and succumb to his happiness.

“Oh, y–you know…,” you stammered, knowing that everything you said brought you even deeper down the rabbit hole.” … he just asked if we could be friends again.“ And those words alone had him snorting out, a sound you rarely heard from Aemond, and with him raising his eyebrows, you knew he expected you to keep talking–to enlighten him. And you did just that, trying to mend his anger. 

“I told him I wasn’t sure and that I had to think about it… but he apologized and said he was sorry for how things ended between us.“ This time it was Aemond pinching the bridge of his nose, followed by a loud sighing. Much to your own surprise, his reaction offended you, because he was in no position to judge you for the way you led your life. 

“What’s this about? Why are you pissed now?“ You hissed, crossing your arms in frustration. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re too naive if you think he just wants to be your friend,“ he said, rubbing the palm of his hand over his face. The calmness in his voice was surprising but eerily calming, yet you knew when not to trust it, despite it helping to slow down your irritated heartbeat. 

Of course, he was right, and deep down you knew it, but Jace still had you in a chokehold, even if you did not like to admit it. It wasn’t because of how well your relationship with him went, because it just didn’t. It was messy and short-lived with him treating you like an option, and in the six months you’d dated, he managed to do enough bullshit to fuck with your mind and permanently scar your soul. 

That was the reason you kind of got involved with Aemond so quickly after the break-up. During your first hookups, you thought there were many similarities between him and Jace, and that somehow did the trick and lured you in. But over time, you came to the realization that Aemond was far from being a monster like the brunette, especially once he chose to let his guard down around you and show you the soft and gentle man that laid beneath the tough shell.

And that certainly convinced you to stay, that side of him granting you a whole lot of comfort and stability, something you had desperately craved.

Your mouth opened and closed, visibly fighting for anything to say–but then it dawned you. 

“Aemond Targaryen, are you fucking jealous of my ex?“ You asked with raised eyebrows, biting the insides of your cheeks to stop the corners of your lips from quirking into a wide grin before continuing, “if that’s meant to make me feel better about myself, it’s definitely not working, you imbecile.“ A swift and gentle blow to his right shoulder had him scoffing, raising both his hands in defense and shifting to prop himself up against the headboard of your large bed. 

“Come on, Y/N, don’t spin it around like I am the bad guy right now,“ he warned, though amusement was laced within his voice, “it’s just the truth. You never had anything good to say about that asshole. And where was he the past few months, mh? He just crawls out of his fucking hole and expects you to forgive him,” he certainly had a point. “If you’re doing that, you’re way dumber than I’ve expected you to be.“ That was harsh, and by the way he immediately reached for your wrist to pull you onto his lap with your head resting against his chest and his muscular arms wrapped around you, large hands splaying out over the entirety of your waist, you were sure he knew the effects of his words.

“Listen,“ his raspy voice rang out, and with your ear being pressed to his chest, you could hear the words rumbling within the depths of it. “If you fall for that fucking asshole again, I will not be there to comfort you, when he does the same shit he did before.“ 

You tried to wiggle your way out of Aemond's strong embrace to sit back up–oblivious to the position you already were in–but to no avail. His arms kept you locked in place and you actually did not really bother. 

“Why do you even care, Aemond? It’s not like we’re doing more than hooking up to fuck. You aren’t even supposed to stay so much longer afterwards,“ you huffed, words slightly muffled with your cheek against his chest. What you couldn’t see in your position was the wide smirk that was plastered across his chiseled features, almost a bit cocky and devious. 

“Well, do you want me to leave, baby?“ The pet name was solely meant to tease you, obvious in the way he emphasized it with a squeeze of your flesh.

You huffed in annoyance at his question, and in an instant, Aemond had you both flipped over, so he was towering above you with your legs still wrapped around his waist and your hair splayed out over the pillow beneath your head. 

“God, I fucking hate you, Aem,“ you groaned in despair. He knew just how difficult it was for you to resist his charm. And you enjoyed his company, so why would you want him to leave? Deep down you wanted him to stay even longer, perhaps even crashing at your place. Breakfast together didn’t sound too bad after all. 

His fingertips danced along the outsides of your exposed thighs, the hem of the shirt rucked up around your waist. And in that moment, you thanked the Seven you had been too lazy to put your panties back on after your last round of fucking, leaving you only in his oversized shirt and him in nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs, which already were visibly strained in the front, the outline of his hard member visible. He clearly was enjoying the teasing. 

“You have a weird way of showing that, Y/N,“ the blonde teased, and his lips found your neck, nippling on the skin and eliciting a groan to fall past your lips–undetermined if it was out of annoyance because of his cockiness or sheer impatience. 

Tilting your head to the side, you granted him more access to one of your most sensitive spots in the curve where your shoulder and neck met, moaning as he started to suck and nibble on it. 

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you,“ you taunted him, a high pitched moan leaving your lips as his teeth harshly dug into your flesh. You were not thinking about the consequences of his jealousy, and as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs to silence you, you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking your pussy against his still clothed cock. 

Now it was him moaning, sounding as delicious as ever. 

Your fingers found the hem of his boxers, hooking beneath to pull on it, only to let it snap back against his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath and thrusted his length against your core. 

“Such a fucking tease,” his voice had dropped an octave, thick with arousal and sending a shiver straight down to the soles of your feet as it fanned over your neck. You desperately tried to push his underwear down and free his hard cock, so you could grab it and stroke it, but Aemond stopped your hand from trailing south. “And as impatient as always.” You couldn’t see his face, but the smug grin on his lips was perfectly audible. 

It was meant to make you unsure and shy, but you weren’t afraid to admit your attraction towards him, “oh, you know that’s the effect you have on me.“ That seemed to please him, judging by the content ‘mh’ that rumbled in the depth of his chest. 

One of his hands clasped around your throat, applying just a bit of pressure, before his lips were on yours in a searing kiss. His tongue was prying your lips apart, slipping past them to deepen the kiss even more, and drink down every whimper you made whenever he rutted his hips against yours, teasing your sensitive cunt. 

With yourself still being a bit overstimulated from all the times he had taken you before, you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, his large hand landing on your thigh determined to keep you neatly locked in place and right where he wanted you. 

You both pulled back to catch your breaths, and Aemond was quick to shimmy out of his boxers. You were right. He was rock hard, his heavy cock standing to full attention, bobbing with each movement, and the protruding vein running along the underside of it as prominent as ever. Your mouth watered at the thought of tracing it with your tongue like you always did when sucking him off, his heavy breathing and raspy groans echoing in the back of your head. 

In an instant, Aemond was back between your parted legs, connecting your lips once again. His cock was captured between your bodies with his balls pressed to your cunt, covering them in your arousal. Every time he shifted his hips, he dragged the base of his cock along your clit, granting you bolts of pleasure that still weren’t enough for you. 

As he took in a deep breath, he rested his forehead against yours, but your whiney voice had him withdrawing to get a better look of you. “Aem,“ you begged, your eyes appearing glassy in the dim light of your room, “I need you… please.“ It sounded far more desperate than intended, but he got the point. 

His usually lilac eye was dark blown with lust, the beautiful color reduced to nothing else than a thin ring, and raked over your body. Despite wearing his shirt, you felt completely exposed to him. The intensity of his gaze always did that to you. 

Aemond sat back on his haunches and grabbed his shaft, dragging it through your folds to gather some of your arousal and use it as lubricant, fisting himself despite already being rock hard. “You’re soaked, Y/N,” he remarked, and even though he kept his head bowed downward to watch the movements of his own hand and a few strands of blonde hair covered his features, you could see the ghost of a smirk dancing along his lips. “All this for me, huh? So eager to be fucked by me again. You’re insatiable,” this elicited a whine from you, thighs and stomach clenching as you couldn’t wait any longer.

He aligned the tip of his cock with your entrance and practically forced himself into you. You should have been used to his girth by now, and more to the painful stretch that followed along with him sliding in, but you weren’t. 

You both moaned in unison with your walls clenching tightly around him–engulfing him–until he completely bottomed out, his balls pressing flush against your soppy cunt. “Seems like me being jealous is quite the great motivator for you as well, mh?“ his voice was strained, indicating how much he fought to restrain himself from recklessly pounding into you–at least for a few seconds to give you some time to adjust to his size. 

You were filled to the brim with his thick cock, the sensation leaving you little space to form any coherent thoughts, hence your lack of reply. The blonde did not seem to care. “Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t even moved and you’re already drunk from my cock? A bit pathetic, don’t you think?“ 

“C-Can you move, now?“ You half begged and half demanded, the crimson covering your cheeks had Aemond chuckling out. 

But he complied immediately, thrusting his hips in and out of you at a rather languid pace. Each movement he made had his muscles flexing, a sheen of sweat covering his pale skin and highlighting them even more. 

Your head tipped back into the pillows whenever the tip of his cock brushed your sweet spot, the familiar sensation of seeing stars pushing you into a kind of overdrive. “Just–just like that,“ you hiccuped between particularly harsh thrusts of him, spurring him on even more. 

Aemond’s thrusts grew quicker and sharper with each passing second, coaxing little ‘uh’s and ‘oh’s’ out of you, until he was all but pounding into you, the headboard of your bed repeatedly bumping against the wall of your bedroom in sync with his movements.

At some point, the sounds of skin slapping on skin and your moans and whines were the only sounds bouncing off the walls, turning the whole scene even more lewd than it already was. 

When Aemond grabbed you to flip you onto your belly, you squealed in surprise but were shushed by him easing his cock back into you right away, resuming the merciless pace he had set up before. 

“You, fuck, take me so fucking well,“ his raspy voice cooed, and by the way he shifted behind you, you knew he was watching the way his cock repeatedly disappeared into your tight cunt. The praise went straight to your head, having you biting your bottom lip in a sheepish manner, whimpering a ‘thank you.’ It was the first time he praised you, and the tingling in the pit of your belly was enough confirmation for you to know you liked it. 

His next movements caught you by surprise, being something he had never done before. 

His large hand entangled into the tresses of your hair, wrapping it around its palm, and he used the grip to roughly pull you onto your knees with your back pressed flush against his sweaty chest. With one arm around your waist and his other coming from your hair to clasp around your throat to apply a good bit of pressure to it, he supported your small frame and kept you in place, keeping you steady so he was able to snap his hips into yours. 

The new angle was immaculate, allowing him to pistone even deeper into you, impaling you on his cock as you were sure it was threatening to come out of your throat at any given moment. You tipped your head back against his shoulder, and Aemond turned his own to press his lips to your cheek in a sloppy kiss.

He was doing all the work, but you couldn’t care less. It felt amazing. Your whole body was on fire, sending you into a frenzy. It was almost too much for you to remember the rules you both had set up at the start of your situationship, one of said rules being you asking for his permission to come. “’M close, Aem,“ you whined, turning your head for him to kiss your lips instead, “can I–can I come?“ You felt your orgasm approaching you rather quickly, almost too quick for your liking, but lucky for you, Aemond was just as quick to reply.

“Yes, go on, Y/N, cum for me,“ he all but commanded you, “soak my fucking cock.“ And with that, the coil in your belly tightened and snapped, your walls convulsing around him. 

Your release seemed to trigger his own, because shortly after, Aemond was spending himself inside of your quivering walls, painting them from the inside. His thrusts did not falter once, fucking his load so deep inside of you, you’d have been sure he got you pregnant if it wasn’t for you being on birth control. 

Only once both your aftershocks subsided, leaving you a panting mess, Aemond let go of you to let you settle in the cushions belly first, resulting in him pulling out of you. It was the cold air hitting his flaccid cock for him, and the sudden feeling of emptiness for you, but you both winced almost simultaneously, grimacing at the loss. 

Aemond hesitated to move for a few seconds, too mesmerized watching how torrents of his seed slowly seeped out of your assaulted core, dribbling over your overstimulated clit down onto the sheets. He groaned, and if it wasn’t for him being utterly fucked out, he would’ve turned hard straight away again.  

As he eventually fell down into the vacant spot next to you, his hand found your ass right away, roughly groping the flesh, whilst he leant over you to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was fucking amazing.“

Your reply was muffled by the pillows, because obviously you needed a few seconds to regain your composure and come back to your senses. But his following question worked wonders to speed up the process, causing you to roll on your side and face him. 

“Will you go on a date with me?“

The heat in your body returned, but it was more bearable than before–mostly spreading to your cheeks and neck–despite his eye carefully watching your every move, gauging your reaction.  

“Only if you stay the night.“

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon aemond #hotd aemond #aemond imagine #aemond stannies #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond fluff #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd fanfic #modern hotd #hotd modern au #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #hotd smut #house of the dragon imagine

[daycourtofficial]

Training Day

Summary: you ask Azriel to help you demonstrate some moves for training and it very quickly changes things

Author’s note: yeah this one just took on a life of it’s own I guess? Anyway, it’s lots of fun

“Can I use you tomorrow during the demonstration?”

Azriel looks up from his paperwork. The two of you were working in the library, a place you find yourselves most nights. You both enjoy working simultaneously - whether you both have paperwork, research, or personal reading. Most nights were spent on a secluded floor of the library. You two are down here so frequently, Clotho has stopped asking you to return the furniture the way it was, just allowing you two to use this space as your own sanctuary.

“I need a body to use when I’m showing the girls how to defend against an opponent,” you elaborate, and Azriel can’t help but notice a faint blush across your cheeks.

Azriel chuckles, but nods. He can’t say no to helping the priestesses, and he certainly can’t say no to you.

You two return to your previous attentions - you to your book, and him to his paperwork, which he finds much less interesting than you.

It started by the two of you using a table and chairs to work, but you had complained about reading for so long in the chair, that you rearranged the furniture so a table was pulled up to the couch you two are sitting on.

These nights started with you two across the table from each other, and tonight Azriel feels your toes pressing against his thigh, trying to form an entrance underneath his leg. You two now sit on the same couch, more often than not touching in some small capacity. The most recent nights start with you toeing your feet against his thigh, until he eventually grabs legs, sliding you down the couch, and placing your legs across his lap, draping his arms over them. When he’s feeling extra bold, or extra sleepy, he finds himself drawing patterns on your calves with his hands.

-

“Goooood morning!” You chirp to the priestesses, Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel. Azriel left the morning part of training early to bring you up for your demonstration and to talk to the preistesses and Nesta.

They all looked tired and out of breath, no doubt due to Cassian’s training.

“You can all sit for my demonstration. That way I become your favorite teacher.” You smile, eliciting a huff from Cassian.

“First, I want to say that while Cassian and Azriel are great teachers, there is one aspect to training that they cannot grasp. They do not understand what it’s like to be smaller than most of your enemies, to be at least 50 pounds lighter than most of your opponents.” You glance around, and the priestesses seem to be receptive, so you continue.

“Which is why I’m here. Cassian can spend 100 years teaching you proper balance, proper techniques, proper stances. But those things mean nothing if you cannot contextualize what you need to take down an opponent.”

“So today, we’ll be doing a little walkthrough of a fight. My opponent will be Azriel. The goal for today is for us to walk through, step by step, of a fight, and win. So, let’s start by thinking: what are some things that I need to think about when I’m facing Azriel. We don’t know anything about him, we don’t know who he is. We know what we can see, sans shadows. Most opponents won’t have control over shadows, so I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sit the demonstration out.”

With that, his shadows retreat, looking as if they too were looking to sit and watch the demonstration. Azriel doesn’t think about the fact that he didn’t tell them to leave, that they listened to you, not even seeking his approval for the command.

“So, what do I notice about my opponent?”

Gwyn speaks up, “he’s much taller than you.”

Another priestess speaks up, “he’s unarmed.”

“He has wings.” “He’s wearing protective leathers.”

You interrupt them. “All good observations. He’s bigger than I am, unarmed, but protected. These are all important notes when facing an opponent. So, what should I do first?”

Someone immediately yells, “kick him!” You’re pretty sure it was Cassian, but you let it slide. “Where am I aiming my kick?” You ask to the crowd. “His head!” You hear Nesta call back.

“Do we think that is the best course of action?” They all nod, you’re unsure if it’s just because they want to watch you kick their teacher, but you swing your leg out, aiming for his head, holding it right next to him when you ask, “why would this not be the best tactic for me?”

There’s a pause, then Emerie speaks up, “your foot won’t make contact with his head.”

While still holding your leg in the air, mere centimeters from his face, you pull a small chocolate from your pocket and throw it to Emerie. “Correct! I can’t make perfect contact, is there any other problem?”

Gwyn yells out, “you’re vulnerable to be pushed!” You throw another chocolate. “Excellent! Yes, since all my weight is on one leg, he could easily” you prompt, alerting Azriel to his next move. He simply pushes you a little, making you lose balance, “make me lose my footing.”

You stand back up and brush the dirt off.

“If I’m going to execute a move that leaves me vulnerable, I need to be very sure that I can execute it. My legs are not long enough to do so. And our opponents will not stoop down so I can attack them.”

Azriel crouches just a smidge, where if your leg were still in the air you’d be able to connect it to his face.

“When the odds are against you in a fight, you need to even the playing field. Do anything you can to subdue your enemy. A tactic I use frequently is messing with their senses. May I?” You ask Azriel. He nods, curious where this is going.

“My height might be considered a disadvantage, but it allows me to move faster and with more ease than larger opponents like Cassian.”

He rolls his eyes, ready to retort back, but you’ve started talking again. “Showing this in slow mo won’t give you a great idea, and it’s a bit more difficult to do, but here’s what I do. I use my opponents height to their disadvantage.

You plant your right foot on his left thigh. “What do small creatures do? They climb. So I plant one foot on a thigh, and use momentum to swing my other leg onto their shoulder.” As you say this, you swing your left leg over his right shoulder, him holding your right leg planted on his leg so you can move.

“from here, I have one leg secured to a shoulder, so I use that planting to bring up my other leg,” doing as you say, bringing your right leg onto his other shoulder, your legs holding onto his shoulders.

Azriel can’t breathe with you so close to him like this. Do you have any idea the effect this is having on him? How close you are to his face, to his mouth? He’s dreamed of having you like this, pressing you into a wall while he devours you like it’s his last meal.

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, reminding him of where he is. “From here, I bring both of my fists out wide, gaining as much speed as I can before coming down on my opponent’s ears. This impact will leave their ears ringing, and could disrupt their balance if done hard enough.” You mime the motion, but only lightly hit his ears.

“Then I grab their face,” you say, holding the right side of his jaw, “and I smash my palm as hard as I can into their nose.”

Azriel knew you weren’t going to, but he could think of no better way to go than at your hands while your legs are wrapped around his neck.

You start to uncoil yourself from him, and it takes all of his self control to help you get your feet back on the ground. You start explaining why jabbing a palm through a nose is a good idea. The priestesses didn’t seem to think anything of you being on top of him like that, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cassian’s shit eating grin. He glances in his brother’s direction, wanting him to knock it off before he scares off their trainees, but Cassian mouths the words “loverboy” to him, while kissing the air, before pretending he was paying attention to you the whole time.

-

Your demonstration goes on for a bit longer, you and Azriel having a pseudofight that the priestesses eventually walk you through how to win. You have him pinned to the ground, and their cheers are so loud you’d think you had slain a dragon instead of taking him down.

You’re positively glowing at their praise, and the fact that this method of teaching actually worked. Before he could grow too accustomed to your weight on his chest, you get off of him, offering a hand to help him up, which he gladly accepts.

“Thank you for letting me beat you up today,” you giggle, as the priestesses start heading back toward the library, leaving you and Azriel behind.

He laughs, thinking about his next words, “how could anyone say no to letting you straddle their face and pinning them down?”

Your cheeks are on fire. The two of you were something, you just didn’t know what. On top of spending most days together, you two flirted constantly, once prompting Feyre to throw you in a cold fountain to cool you off.

But flirting was words, and these words were based in real actions you took. Sure it was to show the priestesses some defense moves, and maybe you had some ulterior motives, but you can’t pretend you didn’t enjoy seeing his face between your legs, even if you two were fully clothed in a self-defense seminar.

You were done with flirting that led nowhere, and before you can think about them the words are out of your mouth, “so if I asked you to do it again, with less witnesses and less clothing?”

You physically watch him shudder, at first you’re afraid you went too far, but then he leans down into your ear and whispers, “don’t make offers if you don’t want to follow through.”

You two have been dancing around whatever is between you two for too long, you think. The gentle nights spent in the library, the constant flirting. You spend more time with him than anyone. You’re terrified to move forward, but then you meet his eyes.

They’re full of lust, yes, but there’s an incredible warmth there. A softness, reserved just for you. He always looks at you with delicacy, as if you held his world and too harsh of a stare would break you.

You grab his neck, pulling him down to you as you kiss him. The first thing you feel is his wings wrapping around you, providing you privacy from the world, even though you’re alone in the training area.

Your hands clutch at his face, and your lips cover his, moving in tandem, as if your lips have found the place they belong.

His hands grab your ass, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You’re so caught up in the kiss and the heat of it that you don’t even realize he winnowed you two into his room.

You hardly take note of the room, just taking in his smell, his taste, his warmth. You’re not sure how long you guys are kissing, thinking of nothing but the way his hands feel holding you, amazed you two are still wearing any clothes, let alone being fully dressed, when you hear a cough.

You two break away very reluctantly, to see a very smug Cassian standing ten feet away.

“You,” he points directly to you, “owe me $50. Pay up.”

“Now?” You ask incredulously, your hair moving as you whip your head to glare at the intruder.

“Yes, now. It’s my money, and I earned it fair and square.”

Azriel’s confusion shown all over his face, you covered your face in your hands while Cassian says, “I bet her $50 that if she had you help with her demonstration and got on your shoulders like that, you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself.”

“I- um - I didn’t know how to make the first move,” you say meekly, “and he seemed so sure of this working.”

You were so concerned he’d be mad that you manipulated this situation, but Azriel, while still holding you, tells Cassian, “I’ll give you $100 if you leave and don’t let anyone disturb us for a week.”

Cassian, always ready to make a quick buck, quickly agrees and scuttles out of the room, closing the door on his way.

“How do you go from not knowing how to make the first move to doing that?” Azriel asks, amusement shining on his face.

“Well, I thought my shameless flirting wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I had to take more drastic measures.”

He roars in laughter, and you can feel the vibrations through his chest. “You’ve always had my attention,” he says, looking at you the way a predator would, “but now you have my undivided attention. And I just paid a hefty fee to get us some time away from everyone.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you giggle, holding onto him tighter, “oh no, a whole week with no distractions, whatever shall we do?” You ask, trying to sound distressed, but your giggles give you away.

“I think I stopped paying attention during your presentation, do you want to remind me again about depriving your opponent of their senses with your legs?”

You throw your head back in laughter, and he tilts your head down to capture your laugh in his kiss.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #honestly I thought this was just precious

[undercoverpena]

vi. the place where I want to be

javier peña x f!reader | chapter six of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. making out. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;) wordcount: 3.5k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi traces his bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, allowing himself the chance to let his eyes roll up and down you.

Taking it in that you’re real.

“Or should I say hola?” 

He smirks, laughing and dropping his hand from his mouth. “You can say hola, hermosa. If you want.”

Dipping your head, he watches you take a breath before you lift your eyes to meet his again. All beautiful, shining—practically fucking sparkling. 

“I knew you’d be fucking handsome.”

“I knew you’d be beautiful.”

Letting his eyes carve around you, he creates an outline before he spends the time shading it in. Unable to tear his eyes from you, the way everything around you seems a fraction brighter, even if he knew that could be so.

All he knows is every inch of you is more perfect than the version he had in his head. 

Then, you blink, dipping your chin before you shift your weight onto another leg. Your fingers playing with your sleeve, something on your mind, puzzle pieces from the little sighs he knows down the phone, marrying with the mannerisms he now gets to see. 

“I know the customary thing is to hug, but….”

Smiling, he eyes you up. “But, what?”

“I really wanna kiss you.” 

Fuck. Me too. That’s all he thinks, hand resting on his hip as he watches you try to appear confident—embrace how your words fell from your lips as though it didn't take all of your strength to confess them.

“You should buy a person a coffee before kissing them.”

Snorting, he watches your brows rise, an expression falling across your face that makes him want to laugh. “Don’t think you’re a stranger, Javi. I came to the sound of your voice four nights ago.”

He licks his lips, your snark dripping with honey.

It makes it easy to slide a hand around your waist, bringing you flush with him. “I guess I did promise you the feel of my lips.” 

"You did."

It's dizzying, the way you gaze at him. More so when you slowly place your wrists on his shoulders, fingers tantalisingly close to the hair at the base of his neck.

It's why he allows you a moment, a chance to push him away—to reconsider. But, you don’t seem to want to take it, one hand sliding down his chest, fingers toying with the fabric of his open shirt—staring at him. All he can do is watch your pupils being swallowed by something he wants to see in more detail later. More privately. 

“Kiss me, baby," you whisper.

In the back of his throat, he buries a groan. Gently slanting his lips over yours, tasting it—mint and lipgloss—as his fingers slide under your cheek and jaw. Holding you, feeling you. Taking every bit of self-control not to pick you up and take you to his truck.

Instead, he just allows the pads of his touch to paint a pattern across your skin. Taking note of the way your mouth moves with his, widening, allowing him to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, feeling your whimper echo down his throat. 

And he doesn’t want to stop, not ever. 

Not as you grip his forearm, frame pinned to his as though it’s a crime the two of you have ever been apart. 

He supposes it is. An offence he's ever been without you before now. Even if he has you now.

Your lips fall from his in a way that you know you both must, too. Lashes fluttering open, blinding him in pure gold and sunshine, all full of longing, your eyes almost shaped like hearts staring back at him. 

“Let’s get you checked in, ay.” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. His hand releases you, before reaching around you, taking the handle of your suitcase—somehow surprised at how heavy it is. 

“What you got in here?” 

It's instant, the way you wrap your arms around yourself, your lips twist into a grin. "I wasn’t sure what to pack.” 

“Mierda, querida. How long are you staying for? Una semana o un mes.” 

Narrowing your eyes, your fingers jab at him playfully. “Hilarious. Una semana.”

Raising his brow, you stick out the tip of your tongue. But what takes him by surprise is the way your fingers slide around his other wrist. Your eyes shimmering with hope and insecurity, and instantly, he knows. 

Smiling, almost instinctively so. It graces the lower half of his face before his mind catches up to the fact, his fingers sliding between yours—fitting so perfectly, flawlessly so. 

He blames it for why he kisses your forehead, capturing how your face shifts into a blend of the sun and a smile. 

“C’mon, charmer, show me your ride.” 

Javi offers to take you to a restaurant, but you insist on something smaller—a diner, a cafe.

“Some place I can get something greasy and not be judged.”

He notices in the truck, that you tap your fingers when it goes silent. Head turned, eyes staring out at the passing city as he drives the two of you to the hotel, fingers playing an imaginary piano on your knee.

A part of him wants to reach over, smooth his hand over—calm you. Rid you of your nerves. Until he realises, he’s doing the same on the steering wheel.

The hotel reception area is small, to the point he finds his front pressed against your back. If you mind, you say nothing, occasionally shooting him a smirk over your shoulder as you check in for both his and your rooms.

“You’ve got broad shoulders,” you say when the elevator doors close.

Biting the inside of his mouth, he clutches the handle of his suitcase. “Y’been admiring, have ya?”

You only offer one word, and a smirk: “Maybe.” The elevator binging, the doors opening, you sliding out with your suitcase in toe as you glance over your shoulder at him as you go to freshen up.

His mind doesn’t stop racing until the moment he shuts his own door behind him. The pulsing electricity of you being so close running through his nerves.

You were here: all real and beautiful. 

Hand tugging out his phone, he's barely thinking as he fires it off. His reckoning comes several seconds later as he changes his shirt.

she’s beautiful, murphy Wrong number, baby. But thank you. 

"Shit."

He stares at it, your reply. His mind imagining, constructing the expression you'd have been wearing—it makes him smile.

she’s beautiful, murphy

And she’s got you using grammar. She’s a keeper.

fuck you 

Glad you’re alive and that’s she what you imagined.  Connie told me to tell you she can come with you next time you visit Miami.

I’ll keep it in mind 

You told him you’d meet him at his truck.

A sight he found almost short-circuited him when he spotted you leaning against it, sporting a tee and jeans, with shades hiding your eyes. 

Unsure how to greet you again, choosing instead to open the car door for you, watching as you slide your sunglasses down your nose, keeping your eyes on him until you got in.

Each time you peer at him like that, he swears he sees something twinkling, shimmering, in your eyes. A thing he wanted to keep hold of forever. See it always—never be apart from it. 

The thought rises and falls in his head, a brief thing he considers, but doesn't allow himself to overthink. It's the first day. Still, plenty of time for him to say the wrong thing.

Do the wrong thing.

Peña it.

Don’t want to fuck this up.

It's a phrase the two of you keep saying. Both of you pepper it into conversation and texts here and there since the moment you agreed.

Something which had been sitting in his truck with him until he saw you outside the airport, and now it's slowly fading to nothing as the two of you head to a place he’d heard was good. 

It's nothing fancy. All plastic menus and fluorescent light, but you beam at him as the two of you choose a booth in the back. Your eyes begin scanning the menu before he even picks his up. Too busy allowing himself another moment to note your nose scrunch and the way your eyes widen when you read something.

Drinks are ordered, and food is too, before a comfortable silence falls over the two of you until the drinks arrive. He mirrors you when you lean back, shifting his hips as his knee nudges yours.

“Did you get hold of your dad?” 

Smiling, he rests his forearms on the table—watching you stir the spoon around your coffee. Something you’ve been doing for a solid minute, having not put anything in it that even needs mixing. 

“I did. He’s good.” 

Nodding, you smile, eyes dropping back to the menu. 

Another silence falls, still a comfortable one. One that he imagines people have together when they’ve been dating for a while.

It doesn't need to be filled, but it permits a moment for the other to stare at the person across from them. 

To admire them. To appreciate them. Both things he's doing plenty.

Each second he's granted, it makes it harder not to slide around to your side of the booth and place his thigh close to yours. His body screams, practically calling out to you, both because he wants to soothe any lingering anxiousness and also to be as close to you as he humanly can be.

A feeling that makes him massage the bridge of his nose—

“Is this weird?” 

He eyes you, dropping his hand, wrapping it around the cheap porcelain mug before bringing it to his lips. “Being in front of you or the situation?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Both?” 

Shaking his head, he takes a sip before placing it back down. “Not for me.” 

You look at the table, shifting in the booth seat. A smile, one that feels secretive—that you’re trying to hold back. “Not for me either.” 

He almost grins, almost. 

Like you, he keeps holding portions of it back so it doesn’t fully illuminate over his face. Instead, he stretches his hand across the table, passing the sauces and salt before your hand finds his—fingers, so perfectly, slotting between his. 

“It feels… right.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “it does.” 

He rolls his lips, free hand stroking at the hair above his lip as he takes you in. How you watch him, how you sound exactly as you do in your text messages—that it all adds up.

From the little quirks, the nose scrunch, the brow, the way you smile. Each piece fills in the puzzle, forming a mural he never wants to tear down. 

“You talk quicker than you text,” you smirk. 

“Ay, hermosa.” 

Laughing, you tighten your fingers around his. “Kinda glad I’m here for a few days. I don’t want to have to wait fifteen minutes for a reply each time.” 

“You’re pushing it.” 

“I do that.”

He snorts, lips sliding up one side of his face. “Good job, I like it.” 

He sees it then, the way that you shift when you’re embarrassed. Eyes dropping, lips pinching into a smile as you wiggle, shifting in the booth. 

“You got much you have to do tomorrow?” 

Shaking your head, you look up—leaning back into the booth, tips of your fingers just in reach. “Not really. I have to speak to the sales manager—go through their reports, and then I have a meeting with someone from imports.”

You must notice his expression, the way his brows have slid into his hairline.

Smirking, you roll your eyes. “It sounds fancier than it is, former DEA. But, once I've done a handover, then I’m all yours for the rest of the week.” 

He points at himself. “All mine?” 

Nodding, he watches as your teeth bite your lip. “If you want?” 

Leaning onto the table, his fingers find the tips of yours. “‘Course I do.” 

Javi echoes your sentiment about not rushing things. Until you’re on his bed. 

Lay flat on your stomach, eyes staring down at the black and white squares both of you are yet to fill in. 

He hadn’t even thought about the crossword, not even as you split off from him in the grocery store—both having separate missions to collect supplies for a night watching something on whatever channel they had in either of their rooms.

So when you had met him at the checkout, placing down chips, sweets and a book, he arched his brow. 

“Turn it over." 

The assistant is barely awake, never mind paying attention to them waiting, still stacking the same stand they were when they walked in. So as he does turn it over, flicking his gaze down, Javi instantly sees the noticeable black and white squares and thick words written across it: CROSSWORD.

“Thought we could keep up your tradition.” 

It’s nothing. Not really.

Entirely a small thing, but it makes him move, hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he crashes his lips to yours. Doing so with a sea of gratitude and appreciation, heart doubling, thumping heavy and hard against his ribs. Hoping his mouth is articulating the sentiment as you smile against him.

It should scare him, terrify him to his bones at how much he feels so soon.

Because you thought of him, of this. This little thing he did that you now do together. 

That’s how you both ended up on his plush hotel bed, half the squares filled in—the easier clues picked off and written in a black biro you’d found in your bag. 

If he had thought you were impressive over text, watching your brain churn in person was something else. Your eyes flick to the side as you think, falling back to the clue, occasionally meeting him—stealing the breath from his lungs—

“37 is thatsthewayitis.” 

Each time you guess a clue, he finds he does the same thing. He raises his brow, watches you smirk, and then studies as you begin to etch each letter into the paper. The only noticeable change is how comfortable you slowly get and how much smugger you are. 

The voice he knows from the phone calls coming out more easily, your hands fidgeting less—body relaxing close to his 

“You think you’re gonna get involved at any point, Peña?” 

Nudging you, he smirks, glancing from your eyes to your lips. “You’re last naming me now? Fine. 38 down, stepup.” 

Handing him the pen, he takes it with a smirk, etching the word in as he finds your eyes still warming his skin. 

“63 across is Eddie,” you add, tapping the page as you move closer, shoulder brushing his. “And 52 is eerie.” 

“You, baby, are impressive.” 

Waiting until he’s written them in, he hears you swallow. The hotel duvet rustles as you move onto your side, arm reaching across, closing the book on his hand. 

For a moment, he just lets you drown him in your gaze—swallowing him whole, pulling him under. Unsure why he isn’t closing the gap, why he isn’t marrying his lips to yours—

“So are you, charmer.” 

Drinking you in, he releases the pen between the pages—leaning towards you. Nerves building, momentary panic that he could have misread this, until you begin to meet him halfway.

Then he’s kissing you for the billionth time today. The two of you moving together more seamlessly, all gentle and tender. Slowly placing his hands around your side, feeling you shift and move until you're under him, hands around his neck—leg hooked over his hip. 

Words similar to you’re perfect, almost murmur from him as the book falls to the floor with a thud. Them being replaced by words such as, you’re so pretty, prettier than he could have ever imagined, but you gasp against his mouth.

An array of other things are almost being kissed against your skin when you begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, brushing knuckles and skin against him. He thanks you by running his mouth against your jaw, tongue drawing lines as you whimper his name—his jeans getting impossibly tight as he lets it grow messy.

Until he remembers—

I don’t want to fuck this up. 

Pausing, he lets out a breath. Eyes closing. 

Your nervous voice down the phone. Your little explanation. The fact you told him you like him.

Your fingers brush against his scalp, scared to open his eyes and see something other than want or adoration in your eyes.

I want you. He wants to say. More than he can find the words.

But he wants to earn you.

“Querida…” Tell me what to do.

“I know.”

It leaves your lips full of sadness, a sorrow tinged and wrapped around the words like a vine.  

Tracing your cheek with his nose, he lets himself enjoy the feel of your fingers in his hair. The way you twirl a strand around a finger before you slowly let them fall from his neck. Slowly, he opens his eyes, finding you watching him, studying him—wondering if you’re committing him to memory in the same way he is with you.  

His thumb digs into your hip, fingers tightening around you. “You have work early, too.” 

“I do.” 

Begrudgingly, he slides off you, hand moving to his jeans conspicuously, shifting himself as he does—watching you glance at him as you stand from the bed. 

Shifting on the spot, he watches as you grin, smoothing down your clothes. “You’ll see me tomorrow, right?”

“I will.” 

Closing the gap to him, you lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks... y'know, for picking me up.”

“Anytime.” 

Licking your lips, you sigh softly. It graces the air, more than shoving into it. “Goodnight, Javi.” 

Two words he’s so used to hearing down a bad phone line, he never realised how heavenly they’d be in person. For a moment, it makes him too stunned to think, never mind say anything. 

Just watching as you glance back as you open the door of his room, waving lightly, barely able to spit the same sentiment to you before it clicks back into place. 

As soon as he’s alone, his palms find his eyes.

Instantly, the world gets a little dimmer, his heart descending a fraction in his chest.

Turning on the spot—memories of moments ago, the collection of them he’s been mounting up since that first ever text, sitting around him. All of it vibrating, shaking in fury and disappointment that he let you go.

All of them blend, dropping like paint splotches onto a canvas as it paints a photo of you. Of the two of you.

It captures the look in your eyes when you see him at the airport, the warmth he felt sitting across from you, talking about families and childhoods—

What is he fuckin' doing? 

Something he can’t even answer, something he’s not even sure about because he shouldn’t have let you walk out. Shouldn't have let you leave tonight ever considering that by lying with him, you could fuck this up.

It rises in him, how he shouldn't have let you get to the hallway, never mind to your room. Because how can either of you fuck up something that feels this right—that feels more right than he’s felt in his gut in a long time.

Fingers running through his hair, Javi’s feet move, forgoing his boots as he grabs the room key from the desk. He practically yanks open his hotel door, key shoved between his teeth as his hands move to his buttons, beginning to do them up—just in case. Wanting to be presentable when he stands at your door, when he tries to find the words to say. 

While your room is only down the hall, it feels like forever until he’s outside your door. 

Focused on scrambling words together, Javi shoves the key into his jean pocket, hand hovering over the door, all set to knock. 

Only to find it vanishes from his knuckles. 

And you’re standing there. All golden. The back of you is all illuminated by a lamp in your room as the hallway light splays across your features.

The way you look at him dries his throat, steals his words. Especially when it's a softer expression like this one, no teasing words and just a simple stare.

You look every bit ethereal and unreal—more like something he concocted in his mind, than made of skin and bone. 

Even if he just saw you moments ago, had you under him moments before that—Javi is still tempted to pinch himself, the entire day feeling like a fucking dream. 

“I…” you begin. 

But he knows. “We’re not going to fuck this up, are we, cariño?”

You smile, swallowing. “No. We’re not.” 

“Good, girl.” 

It’s instant. Like it’s scripted, rather than entirely by chance.

You melt into him as he muffles his name against his lips. Reminding him that this is real, you’re real. 

The earlier worries of rushing things fade to black, vanishing, turning all to dust as he manoeuvres you inside your room. Kicking it shut, feeling your fingers wrestling with the same buttons he’s just tried to fasten—a gasp escaping when your spine finds a wall. 

“If you want to stop—” 

Shaking your head, your hand holds his chin. Staring into him, scorching your thoughts into him. “I was coming to find you. Just now, when you…” 

“Came to find you?” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. Look every bit sinful, beautiful and fucking everything. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

Your fingers brush his cheek, that mischievous glint in your eye he’s caught occasionally across the diner table. “Show me how pretty you think I am, baby.” 

an: the next scene on friday is spicy. if you'd prefer to skip it, I'll see you on Tuesday.

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[whitexwolfxx310]

Hi. Request. A bucky or sebastian x fem reader. Soft wedding smut. Fluff. NO daddy or mommy kinks, for the love of God. NO! Thank you

Yes!!! I have been so excited to write something like this! I couldn't help but dive right into it! I hope you enjoy ♥️

||You're My Home||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Your wedding night!

Warnings: Spicy content! 18+ only! Oral sex F receiving, unprotected penetration, praise kink, FLUFFFFFFF!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This isn't a part of the BBWWS, but let me know what you think!

Spending the last year planning the intricate details of a wedding had you completely drained. Centerpieces, invitations, flowers… it sounds fun in theory, but was utterly exhausting.

Bucky did everything he could to be by your side every step of the way. Even the late nights when he came home from a mission to find you crying in the middle of the floor- that was littered with glue, glitter, ribbons, and card stock that was going to somehow come together to make the seating chart you had imagined in your head. He had this magic about him that would take the stress away, reminding you that the very core of all of this was your love for one another. He’d offer to help, and seeing him in all black leather covered with glitter was a sight to behold. You teased your fiancé, saying he should pitch that idea as a new uniform.

You held onto those little moments to help push you through the craziness of wedding planning. After all, the endgame was becoming Mrs. Barnes. And even though the big day got closer and closer, you never got over the sight of Bucky’s mothers ring on your finger.

But it all came together on a beautiful fall evening as you each stood at the end of a plush grass isle. That had been his one and only request- to be married outdoors in a wide open space. Bucky didn’t look when you first appeared, he was afraid. It wasn’t until the music played and Steve gave him a reassuring grip on his shoulder, did he brave a look.

He didn’t smile at first. His eyes took in every small detail; The bold white sheath dress that hugged your curves, the plunging sweetheart neckline that accented your breasts, the floral patterned lace that disappeared the further it fluttered down the dress. No, he didn’t smile. Not yet. Instead his teeth clenched and his lips slightly twitched as you started to walk towards him. Bucky’s ocean blue eyes now had a watery sheen to them, conveying just one simple word: ‘mine’.

When you were only just a few feet away from the sunflower and marigold decorated alter, he stepped forward to meet you. To hold your hand in his as you both take your last steps as each others fiancé. Standing face to face in front of a large group of people that suddenly seemed to disappear, you could only focus on the man in front of you. His pearly white teeth that gleamed as he now smiled, his eyes as bright as you’ve ever seen them, his infamous nose scrunch in excitement that made you fall in love with him in the first place, and that tanned, God-like skin that practically glowed under his all black suit. Every feature was enhanced from the too perfect watercolor sun as it started to set during your vows.

The minister hadn’t even finished the conclusion of the ceremony by saying ‘you may now kiss the bride’ before Bucky gently cupped both sides of your face and gave you the sweetest, heartfelt kiss. The beaming smiles on both of your faces almost made it impossible to press your lips together. Cheers and clapping erupted from the crowd, causing him to take you into his arms, dipping you down low as he maintained the kiss for show.

The evening was full of clinking utensils against glasses, music that had everyone dancing (even Bucky), and the ever so slightly guilty conscience you had from wasting such an amazing tasting cake by smushing it into his face. It went by so fast that it was practically a blur, and over far too soon.

Everyone sent you off in the picture perfect way; people lined up on both sides of the main entrance and held sparklers that just felt as though they were illuminating the newly married glow coming off of you both.

Driving back to the rented cabin for your wedding night was painfully slow. Bucky’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, giving the occasional squeeze when his thumb wasn’t grazing against the soft white fabric.

Pulling into the drive, you can feel that the night has cooled. He quickly turns off the car and slightly fumbles as he runs around to open the car door for you. Holding out his hand, you take it into yours and allow him to help you out. After all, wedding dresses aren’t well known for their ability to move with you. Bucky picks you up, now holding you in traditional bridal style to bring you through the threshold. He kicks the door lightly, opening it and walking through, making you giggle as you held onto him.

“Thank you, husband.” You enunciate. He smirks, gently placing you back into your feet.

“You’re welcome, wife.” He reiterates the title also. You both laugh.

His eyes find yours, portraying the same look of adoration he has given you through the entire day, making you feel like the happiest and luckiest woman in the world. Your smile mirrored his own- but one side of your lip tugged into a smirk as you slowly started stepping backwards towards the bedroom. The faint clicking of your heels against the floor being your silent invitation.

Those sky blue eyes set ablaze, and without hesitation, he pulled at his black tie, shimmying the knot down until it was undone and fell to the floor. Bucky’s midnight black tuxedo jacket followed suit, starting to leave a trail of his clothes as he followed you into the bedroom.

He places his hands on each side of your waist and encourages you to turn around. Now with your back to him, he steps in close- the front of his body now pressing into yours. As you expose your neck, Bucky's lips kiss your collarbone, almost making you visibly shiver under his touch. He inhales deeply, as if somehow your scent has changed now that you're officially his. His lips leave small, butterfly soft kisses that trace up to your ear. Instinctively, warm fingertips trace along the lace seam on your lower back.

"You looked... so beautiful today," he breathed, as his fingers clasped the tiny zipper. "But, I would be lying if I said that I haven't been thinking about getting you out of this dress, all day." Your hips impulsively press back against his at the words. The fabric became less taut the more he pulled the zipper down.

That familiar combination of his warm and cool touch started to line your curves. Turning in Bucky's arms to face him, the dress pooled around your feet on the floor. After helping you out of the mesh layers, Bucky drops to his knees in front of you as he admires your new revealed outfit- a strapless, shortened, white flower patterned corset with a matching lace thong and garter belt to hold up thigh high stockings. Placing a firm kiss on your stomach, his head tilts up so he can look at you through hooded eyes- his lower lip still tugged down against your belly slightly.

"God, you're gorgeous. Just...perfect. And mine." The last word changed his tone from admiration to instant primal. He was back on his feet, hands already starting to roam your body. In return, you grip the collar of his dress shirt, pulling his face down closer to yours. Even in heels, you're significantly shorter than him.

"I love you, Bucky. You're everything I've ever wanted, needed, and more." You say, in a small voice- your lips so close to his that they just barely touched with each word you spoke. Not even waiting for a response, you purse your lips to his as you start to fumble with the buttons of his dress shirt.

His warm tongue skims against yours- and now you're even more impatient that his naked body isn't already on top of yours. Taking a fist full of the shirt from both sides, you pull as hard as you could- buttons flying, leaving his chest bare. Bucky's lips didn't leave yours as you pushed the shirt down his arms, letting it drop to the floor.

Stepping forward, he supports your body- laying you down on the bed. His hips press firmly between your legs, and even through his dress pants you could feel that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him; Causing the recognizable throbbing in your lower core to make it's first appearance. His palm presses flat against your upper chest, feeling your heart as it starts to beat faster, for him.

Using his palm as guidance, his lips now trail behind his hand as it coasts lower on your body. Your sternum, beneath your ribs, your belly button, and just above your underwear. While his lips left creamy, soft kisses- the small amount of stubble on his chin tickles, causes you to wriggle slightly under his touch. You exhale all of the air out of your lungs as he plants one faint kiss on top of the thin fabric between your legs. The warmth from his breath has your body completely in his control; your back arching off the bed, aching for more of his touch.

Moving the fabric to the side, he gives one more exposed, tongue filled kiss- causing your breath to hitch. You force yourself to look down, taking the upmost gratification of seeing this man's, your man's, face between your thighs. Bucky ran his warm pointer finger through your folds, grinning with approval of how wet you already are. His ribbed tongue swirls as he licks and sucks smoothly- your hips grind softly, working with his motions.

At first your moans are sigh like and gradually turn into small whimpers. It's a small game Bucky likes to play- teasing and edging almost to the point it will drive you insane. But the orgasms that snowball through you over and over again make it so worth it. He glides over that one sweet spot that makes your entire body tense.

"Don't stop," You sigh, struggling to maintain breathing as your nails start grabbing into his full head of hair. He gives a small 'Mmm' in response, the hum from his throat practically echoing in your rib cage.

Keeping the gradual brushing of his tongue, your entire body starts to come off of the bed. Your toes point downward as you fail in remembering how to breathe- Bucky's arms tense around your thighs as you start to wriggle, holding you in place as you ride through the wave of pent up tension.

A combination of his name delicately wrapped in moans escape your mouth. Even after what seems like relentless energy waves rolling through your body, his tongue doesn't stop- but instead becomes softer and silky, twirling so gently around your extremely sensitive and swollen clit. Only once does your body shudder at each pass of his tongue does he stop.

The coolness of the air replaces where his mouth was as he kneels on the bed. Bucky pulls on his belt buckle, the metal rattling as it comes undone and gets thrown onto the floor. At some point, your thong had been ripped off. Being the skilled lover that he is, his pants are already being tugged off as he moves to hover over you. His sweet- yet salty, lips are on yours; his tongue massaging your own as you both taste yourself through the kiss.

Reaching down between your legs, you grasp and start to stroke him slowly. He breathes into the kiss at your touch and as you adjust your body underneath him. You guide the tip of him to your entrance, rubbing it maliciously slow up and down your folds to lubricate him, with you. The most delicious sound reverberates in his throat as his hips gently press forward, his silent plead. Not being able to resist much longer yourself, you start to guide him inside of you.

A unanimous moan is breathed out between the two of you as he presses in. In an attempt to make himself slick, Bucky pushes in, and then pulls out- repeating this movement until the majority of his length is inside of you. You're so tight that he can't fit in all the way just yet.

His hips rock gingerly against your own, starting off gradually as your internal walls expand to adjust around his intimidating size. The abdominal throbbing didn't stay dormant for long once Bucky found his rhythm. He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead into your own. His breathing becomes heavier as your whimpers morph into moans- moans transform into broken 'oh's'.

This being your second orgasm makes it more intense; and Bucky knows well enough to keep his pace. Changing anything in the moment could cause him to start over again. Not that he would mind.

"Just like that," he breathes, and gently strokes your cheek. And you start to crumble all over again at the smoothness of his words. Your nails dig into his slick and muscled back for stability- your stomach re-living that rollercoaster drop feeling. The sounds coming from you are becoming shaky and high pitched. Bucky presses his lips back into yours, swallowing your sharp whines of pleasure.

He doesn't allow you time to come back down from this high; instead he repositions you both. Bucky is now slightly leaned back on his knees with you straddled on top of him, nice and close.

"One more?" He asks with a smug smile, already taking on the challenge regardless.

Your throat is so dry, your vision still semi blurred- and yet, how can I say no?

His hands grip onto your hips- your bodies forming a V. No movement involved, you can feel the incline of him in this position- with every tiny motion, his tip is going to caress against your G-spot in this alignment.

The first, slow grind makes Bucky hiss. He's deeper, you feel tighter. This isn't going to take long at all... for either of you.

Allowing his hands to guide your hips, you move along to his pattern. The combination of both internal and external stimulation already has you unable to think straight. Your body shudders a little more fiercely this time- Bucky's fingers dig into your skin more as he grunts through his breath. You can feel the pulsing, warm sensation inside as he comes- making him feel even more slick. His body convulses slightly until all that is left is excessive breathing and sticky, sweaty skin between you both.

Bucky's hands cup your face- the cold from his metal hand being more than welcome. "God, I love you." He says, then presses his lips against yours. And in this moment, you realize that every night for the rest of your lives could be like this. This intense, this passionate- forever.

If you enjoyed this, please check out my Masterlist! Requests are open!

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @floralwsloki @erinallene @fafafalafel @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @winterassisin84 @cjand10

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[astroa3h]

Jupiter through the signs 💖

Aries: With your Jupiter in Aries, you possess a commanding presence. In challenging situations, you shine, making decisive choices that others admire. Your courage isn't just bold; it's inspiring. You're the one who can walk through fire and emerge stronger.

Taurus: Your Jupiter in Taurus endows you with a unique ability to find value in the overlooked. Financially and materially, you have a knack for turning what seems like nothing into something substantial. You see opportunities where others see dead ends, and that's your secret to success.

Gemini: With Jupiter in Gemini, your adaptability is your greatest asset. You navigate through complex conversations with ease, always finding the right words. Your ability to see every angle makes you an excellent negotiator, and people admire your communication prowess.

Cancer: Your Jupiter in Cancer gives you a deep emotional intelligence. You understand and navigate emotions in a way that others can't. This intuition serves you well, allowing you to guide and influence those around you in subtle yet impactful ways.

Leo: Jupiter in Leo blesses you with a charisma that naturally draws people to you. You have a way of leading and influencing that feels both grand and genuine. Your flair is not just for show; it's a powerful tool that earns you both loyalty and admiration.

Virgo: Your Jupiter in Virgo grants you an eye for detail unmatched by others. You're the strategist, the planner, the one who sees the patterns and plans several steps ahead. This meticulous nature of yours is invaluable, especially when precision and thoroughness are needed.

Libra: With Jupiter in Libra, your talent for diplomacy stands out. You navigate tense situations with grace, turning potential conflicts into harmonious resolutions. Your ability to charm and create balance is not just a skill; it's an art form that earns you respect.

Scorpio: Your Jupiter in Scorpio endows you with a magnetic and intense presence. You have a natural ability to uncover hidden truths and use them strategically. Your fearless approach to life's darker aspects makes you both intriguing and formidable.

Sagittarius: With Jupiter in Sagittarius, you possess a visionary wisdom. You see opportunities where others see obstacles. Your optimistic and philosophical outlook often leads you to success, sometimes in the most unexpected ways.

Capricorn: Jupiter in Capricorn gives you remarkable resilience. You thrive under pressure and turn challenging situations into successes. Your composure and effectiveness in tough times are traits that not only help you succeed but also earn you great respect.

Aquarius: Your Jupiter in Aquarius blesses you with revolutionary thinking. You're often ahead of your time, introducing ideas that are innovative and effective. Your unconventional approach isn't just unique; it's groundbreaking.

Pisces: With Jupiter in Pisces, you have a deep, intuitive understanding of the world around you. You navigate through emotional and complex situations with a sense that seems almost psychic. This intuition of yours is a powerful guide, leading you through life's ebbs and flows.

For Personal Readings Visit: astroash.net

TikTok - astroa3h

*Remember this is generalized, keep an eye out for how your Natal Jupiter is aspected for the real TEA.

#astrology #astrology readings #astrology aspects #natal chart #celebrity #astrologer #daily astrology #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #astrology blog #jupiter #astrology signs #aries #pisces #scorpio

[wintaerbaer]

things we don't say: part 5.5 (interlude) (kth) (m)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

chapter warnings: maya and jk are fighting again :( , and also SMUT in the form of: lots of kissing, light/brief breastplay, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), missionary, creampie, a throwback to part 2, they’re so vanilla but it suits them

a/n: a huge thank you to @btsborahaee for beta-ing on extremely short notice! you’re the best! and an extra thank you, too, to everyone who has shown this series love. it truly means the world <3

listening rec: pieces by andrew belle

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

The night is beginning to wind down, thick summer air turning cool and the noise from inside the venue softening with every passing moment. It’s peaceful—the kind of pleasant exhaustion that marks the end of a big day. Jungkook stretches out at the patio table, resting his hands behind his head. As much as he enjoys a party—loves the pounding of music and the press of bodies—he has to admit that this is pretty nice too, the ease that comes with good company and a more intimate setting.

It also helps that Maya and Mingyu have rejoined the group, settling his imagination, which had been running rampant while they were gone.

“Tae and Y/N haven’t come back this way, have they?” Jimin wonders, peering around as if he thinks that saying your names will cause you to appear.

“I haven’t seen them since dinner,” Maya says.

Joshua shifts in his seat, tilting his head out of curiosity. “What’s their deal anyway?”

It’s like a collective sigh passes through half the table. A heavy breath that’s half amusement, half exasperation. “You noticed?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

Wonwoo coughs out a laugh—a loud bark that draws all eyes to him.

He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“He’s in love with her,” Maya says, ever-direct. “Has been for as long as I’ve known them. Probably longer. But he’s too afraid to make a move.”

Mingyu sighs in understanding at her side. “Ahh, been there.”

“You have?”

He turns his head and regards her warily, like he didn’t quite mean to say that and he’s just remembered that he’s in the presence of a relative stranger. “Uh, yeah. With one of my friends in high school.”

“What happened?”

He hesitates, picking through his words carefully. “I spent freshman year of college gathering up the courage to tell her how I felt once we were both home for summer break.” A shrug flows down his back. “She rejected me.”

“Aw, Mingyu, I’m sorry,” Maya coos, and the enamored look on her face makes Jungkook nauseous.

“It’s fine. I moved on,” Mingyu says (A shame, Jungkook thinks). “But I can understand your friend’s predicament. Maybe it will work out for him though.”

A rush of boldness floods Jungkook’s veins, and he leans forward, looking deliberately at Maya. “It could definitely work out for him,” he insists, “because Y/N has been hurt in the past, and Tae understands that. He wants her to know that things could be different, but she just needs to let him in. That’s the problem.”

Maya’s eyes flash, clearly catching the double entendre of what he’s saying. “The problem,” she spits, “is that people have a pattern. And Tae’s pattern is that he’s far too scared to take a risk. Abandonment issues run deep, but some people don’t understand and respect that.”

“I und—“

“Tae has his reasons,” Jimin jumps in, defending his friend. “He just needs time.”

Maya snorts, and Jungkook can tell he’s hit a nerve as she continues her rant, the rest of the group quietly looking on in a mix of unease or confusion. “Time? Give me a break. He’s had almost twenty years worth of time.” She crosses her arms as she rolls her eyes to the heavens, scoffing a laugh of defeat. “Honestly? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that people don’t change. People who sleep around will continue to sleep around.” She pierces Jungkook with a look he feels in the marrow of his bones. “And guys like Tae will always have a reason to be afraid.”

Her head shakes, and Jungkook thinks she might be holding back tears.

“At this rate, we’ll all be dead before he makes a move.”

Taehyung’s mouth is relentless.

From the moment you lean forward, his lips chase yours—desperately seeking—and barely even give you the time and space to breathe. Like he no longer sees use for oxygen.

If someone had asked you a week ago what you thought kissing Taehyung would be like, you would've said careful and calculated, just like he usually is during the day-to-day. But instead, you're getting all fire and a hunger you didn't know he was capable of—urgency in the rough pace of his mouth and the frantic ministrations of his hands digging into the nape of your neck, angling you towards him.

For what it's worth, you meet him beat for beat, nipping at his lower lip, sliding your tongue against his, and tangling your fingers into the thick mane of his hair. A groan emanates from someone's throat—you're not even sure whose—and suddenly, he's gripping you around the waist to drag you across his lap with a growl until you're straddling his hips, crowding him against the headboard as he clutches you to him tightly.

You press closer, closer, closer, crushing your lips together for a bruising kiss and savoring the feel of his arms banded across your back, and the only thing you can think is that you can’t believe you didn’t do this sooner. He’s heaven incarnate, the taste of him ambrosia and nectar, and you can’t get enough.

It’s not enough.

You finally pull away for air, and his lips, still seeking skin, trace a path across your jawline and down the column of your neck as your fingers find their way to the buttons on his shirt. You’re frenzied, fumbling as you undo them one-by-one and let out a gasp of relief as the fabric falls open and allows you access to the warm skin underneath. You greedily run your hands over his chest and stomach, desperate for more, more, more, and he responds in kind, slipping his own palms under the cotton of your pajamas as he continues to nibble at your neck and groaning when he finds you bra-less.

Warm palms cup your breasts, thumbs brushing lightly over perked nipples, and you move to push his shirt down his shoulders, immediately leaning in to bite and suck at the protrusion of his collarbone.

His head falls back against the headboard, and for the first time since you kissed him, he rasps out, “Y/N, my God.”

It sets your blood on fire, the guttural, fucked-out sound of his voice. But you miss the feel of his lips. “Don’t stop,” you murmur, stripping yourself of your own top and diving forward to kiss him again.

He moans once more, the vibrations dancing along your tongue, and the thought repeats that you should’ve been kissing this man every damn day. Should’ve been embracing him at every chance like your life depended on it.

From here on out, you think it just might.

You trail your hands down his torso, and he bucks his hips underneath you, drawing your attention to the hardness pressed against your pelvis.

“Tae,” you gasp, breaking away, and he takes the opportunity to arch his back and pull a nipple into his mouth. “Taehyung.”

But he’s not listening, purely focused on the mounds of your breasts, and so you take it upon yourself to torque your body, flipping the two of you until you’re on your back, and his weight is digging you into the mattress.

The change in position causes a temporary slow in movement, affording you new skin to explore as you roam the expanse of his back, Taehyung’s fingers reverently tracing the lines of your ribcage. It’s not long, however, before your motions ramp back up as you work to shimmy off your pants and clumsily free him of his own.

Finally bare to him, you slow down for real this time as his own touches become tentative, the warm air of the hotel room on his skin seeming to sober him up a fraction. He pauses with a hand on your hip, his other arm braced at the side of your head, not seeming to know what to do next.

Bold and eager—yet sure of your next move—you wrap your fingers around the smooth length of him, relishing the sharp intake of breath you feel at your ear.

“Need you,” you whisper. “Need you, Tae.”

He hesitates only a second longer before his fingers are dipping down between your legs, the two of you sighing in sync at the feeling. You line him up, raising your head to brush a gentle kiss to his mouth, trying to transmit confidence as you fold your legs around his waist.

A stoppage in time as he bumps his nose against yours. Flutters soft breath across your cheeks.

And then he pushes in.

Your lungs cease to function, every cell in your body focused on that single point of connection. You're whole. Full. Complete. Amazed at the ease with which you fit together—two puzzle pieces finding their match. And Taehyung is certainly not unaffected himself as he pulls back to look at you, emotion swimming in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours, his lips still ghosting your skin. And it could be a trick of the light, a haze brought on by the hormones currently coursing through your body, but his eyes look wet. “My angel.”

He kisses you then, slow and deep, taking his time as you both adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You've never felt this comfortable with anyone before, never trusted someone so fully to see you at your most intimate and vulnerable. And he may have called you an angel, but with him above you like this—hovering, ethereal, and burning against you—you think it might actually be him who's heaven-sent. Your beautiful, beautiful man.

His hand charts a course up your body, guiding your arm upwards until it's resting by your head and he can lace your fingers together with a sigh. One more press of his mouth to yours, a gentle nip at your ear, and then he pulls his hips back—only to gradually ease back in centimeter by centimeter.

The process repeats, the pace slow but not lazy, deliberate intent behind every controlled thrust of his hips. It drives you crazy—the unhurried drag of him, the way he's allowing both of you to savor every nerve and inch of flesh until nothing is taken for granted. Your free hand maps his back, legs wrapping around him even more tightly, and he hitches your thigh to his waist so he can push deeper.

Stars circle through your vision, every sense overwhelmed by him: the press of his hips, the scattered kisses across your neck, the symphony of your mewls and his moans.

It's perfect—he's perfect—and before you even realize it, you're riding the edge of your high, entire body tensing in anticipation.

He notices, dropping his hand low again to rub at your clit and turning the stars you're seeing into constellations.

“Let go. I've got you, baby,” he murmurs. “I've got you.”

It's the low timbre of his voice that ultimately does it, and you fall apart, trembling so forcefully that he releases your hand to wrap his arms around your torso, locking the two of you together. He rides it out with you until he tips over the edge himself, spilling inside with a rumble in his chest like thunder.

One, two, three breaths in.

And it’s over.

Everything stills, the two of you a heaping pile of sweaty skin and heaving chests. And while your head is mostly empty, wiped clean by the experience you just shared with him—perhaps, now, the most important thing you've ever shared with him—a single fact of your new reality persists.

You want him. You need him.

You love him.

He pulls out with a groan and rolls off you, tugging you into his side. You know you should head to the bathroom, should clean up, but the emotional and physical exhaustion and the lure of his skin has you cuddling at his chest.

As your eyelids droop, the promise of sleep looming, he mumbles something, the words blending together in a tangle. You lift your head, heart jolting at the sight of his blissed out face.

“What?”

But he's already fallen asleep, tiny puffs of air slipping through his lips.

You think about nudging him back awake, think about asking him what he just said, where this leaves you, what you’re feeling yourself. But you decide against it, the expression on his face too peaceful to disturb.

It’s been seventeen years leading to this moment, right?

What’s one more day?

a/n: they finally got there :) but there's still a lot of story left! pls consider liking, reblogging, leaving a comment, or sending an ask in the meantime!

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut

[angelmatthew]

hihi! I've read your guidelines <3 how about flirty banter between gunwook and reader? except the reader is more bold and flirty compared to gunwook so she gets him fumbling on his words and flustered 🤭

i'm in my christmas feels right now so i took some creative liberties with this one! i hope this is still up to your expectations anon ♡ also, this not proofread, i apologize for any mistakes!

↬gunwook x fem!reader ↬631 words ↬fluff, one shot ↬tw: none

the air carries the sweet scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts, a chilly breeze offset by the warmth of gunwook's hand holding yours. bundled up in a cozy beanie and knitted scarf, he looks irresistibly snug. his cheeks wearing a natural blush, and dark strands of hair delicately framing his face.

as both of you stood beneath the mesmerizing glow of colorful christmas lights, he seemed entranced by the festive atmosphere. little did he know, your fascination is directed entirely toward him.

"i know you're staring," he blurts out, catching you off guard. his attention shifts to you, and his lips curve into his signature pout-like smile.

you blink, momentarily taken aback by his remark. a playful glint sparkles in gunwook's eyes as he continues, "but, you know, i don't mind it. it's kind of nice being someone's captivating view."

you lightly hit his arm to which he responds with a chuckle but before you could retaliate, the couple standing in front of you in line for the hot chocolate stall finally got their drinks, gunwook steps forward to order for you both. he doesn't need to ask for your order, he knows it by heart already; a hot chocolate with a holiday blend sirup, topped with thick foam and cinammon.

the vendor hands you your drinks in adorable red cups adorned with a delicate snowflake pattern. your boyfriend seizes the moment, snapping a quick picture of the beverages.

"wow, that looks delicious," you comment, and gunwook nods before blowing on his hot drink to take a sip.

curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip yourself. your eyes automatically widen, sparkling with delight, drawing a proud smile from your boyfriend.

"i told you this place is good, they have the best hot chocolate out of the whole christmas market," he emphasizes.

"this entire market is amazing, actually," you continue sipping on the beverage, your gaze shifting to the little gingerbread houses displayed on the stall in front of you. without a word, gunwook deftly relieves you of the small shopping bags you were holding with one hand.

you voice your concern sincerely, "wook, you're already carrying everything. i won't break my arm carrying lush bags." your insistence on helping is endearing, and he can't help but smile every single time. despite your persistent offer to carry the shopping bags, gunwook consistently declines. the princess treatment is a non-negotiable for him.

"seriously, the bags are not heavy at all!" you insist, attempting to take a few from his hands. however, he effortlessly raises his arms, holding them just out of your reach. a frustrated huff escapes you. unbeknownst to you, a foam mustache had formed on your upper lip while you were sipping on your hot chocolate, eliciting a warm chuckle from gunwook.

“what ?” your eyebrows furrow in concern, you know that mischievous look. you quickly look at your reflection in a nearby shop window.

your eyes meet gunwook's gaze, and he can't resist a playful tease, "I think you’ve got something your lips"

you feign innocence, batting your eyelashes. "oh, do I? maybe, you'd like to help me clean it up."

gunwook feels like he might melt on the spot like the marshmallows topping his drink, but he tries to hide it "i could lend a hand," he says, he sighs leaning in with a teasing glint in his eyes.

but you are a step ahead. with a swift, daring move, you close the distance between you and steal a quick kiss, savoring the taste of hot chocolate foam on his lips. it leaves gunwook momentarily stunned, his eyes widening in surprise.

he blinks a few times, attempting to recover from the unexpected kiss. "uh… well played," he admits, his words tumbling out in an incomprehensible mumble, his cheeks now even rosier than before. it's a rare sight, watching gunwook—usually the debate team maestro—at a loss for words, and only you seem to have that power over him.

you grin in satisfaction, holding up your cup. "i guess the foam mustache is contagious."

gunwook chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. he doesn't know how you do it; you always manage to fluster him in the most random moments, "i'll have to get used to it if it means more of those unexpected kisses."

"speaking of getting used to things, I'll take those bags back now!"

#ꔫ˚｡angel ˚｡ꔫ writes #gunwook x reader #gunwook x reader fluff #zb1 drabbbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #park gunwook #zhang hao #seok matthew #kim jiwoong #sung hanbin #kim gyuvin #fluff #kpop imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone

[saintship]

🍄 ‘s Request

Synopsis: Reader seems perfectly fine with the rest of the 141 being touchy-feely, but not with Ghost. He wants to know why.

I loved this request it was so detailed!! I hope you like it! -S.S.

Simon Riley x f!Reader - I don’t bite

“Soap, if you keep chewing your gum like that for one more second, I’m going to lose it.”

You sat over a few sheets of paperwork in the common room, Soap at the windowsill tracing patterns in the fogged glass while he waited for the kettle. Unfortunately, a concentrated Soap is also a very loud chewer.

“Haud yer wheesht, yer across the room!” He retorted.

“You’re going to be flying across the room in a minute!” You stood, huffing and walking over to observe his work. He’d drawn a little cartoon ghost with angry-looking eyes.

“Guess who?” He grinned as you rolled your eyes.

“Who’s drinking my tea?” Ghost’s steady voice carried through the tiny kitchen area as he picked up the box of teabags Soap had set down.

“Aye, it’s this one.”

Soap placed his hands on your shoulders. “Wearin’ a mask and all, she’s trying to be like y-"

Soap was cut off by your smacking him with a nearby dish towel, at which he yanked on the end of the cloth and stole an over dramatic kiss to the forehead. You groaned in annoyance, but dissolved into laughter when he attacked you back.

“Get away!” You laughed brightly as Soap snapped the towel at you, turning to spot Gaz walking in, still in his tactical gear from a stakeout.

“He’s insane!” You dodged another one of Soap’s attacks before making a run for it, only to be caught and lifted by Gaz, rendering you immobile.

“You guys suck!” You laughed through your words before breaking free, going back to the kitchen and snatching back the dish towel on the way.

You looked up to see if Simon had snagged Soap’s hot water, but he was gone, the box of tea left discarded on the counter. The lightness in your chest dimmed a bit as you realized the room had carried on with its action and disregarded him.

It wasn’t the end of the world. He was a grown man; he didn’t need to be entertained or catered to at all times, but for some reason it stuck. Like a stone that sank to the bottom of your stomach and remained for days. What that heaviness was, you couldn’t say.

Not two days later, the team was at a dive bar, traditionally following a short and successful mission. You joked with Soap and Gaz that they’d ward off any leering figure. Even though you could defend yourself effortlessly, they were men, and they loved you, so they couldn’t help but edge a bit closer or stand a bit straighter in that sort of environment. At the pool table, Soap was nearly always behind you, warding off any bold patron from “giving you a few pointers”. You barely noticed it now, just continuing in your brazen promises to destroy Gaz at his favorite bar game.

You didn’t see the calm eyes watching you, Simon’s glass being lifted to his lips as the bourbon slipped past his throat and, it seemed, straight into his heart. Your smile, the way you moved, the way you just existed, made him slip into a daydream of kissing you right there at the billiards table, the Task Force both irritated and touched by the display. His balaclava rested just above his nose, his stubbled jaw revealing the faint shadow of a week’s neglect.

It occurred to him that he had never actually attempted to initiate what you had with them.

Sometimes, he would talk to John in his office over a fancy bottle, and sometimes his tongue would slip. On one of those occasions, his Captain couldn’t stand to stay silent.

“Do something about it, Simon.”

Seeing Simon’s state, it was clear the problem wasn’t the conflict of interest, it was him. He wasn’t afraid of Narcos, or sprinting toward gunfire, or any of the things that made his job horrifying, he was afraid of showing you who he was and being laughed at.

“Maybe I will.”

He was drunk and snarky in that moment, but now he’d barely had half a glass, and he still felt that pull toward you. He felt the same ignition in his ribs that he felt in boot camp when another recruit challenged him. His competitiveness, his ambition, it never left. It only simmered, slowly and consistently, until you came along and sent it boiling over.

You were coming over now. He lowered his balaclava, the contact of fabric easing his battering heart.

“Had enough of them?” He murmured. His voice scratched from underuse, and he cleared his throat irritably.

“Always..” You thanked the bartender for your drink, not sitting at the bar but not turning back to the game quite yet.

Simon cursed his own body for the swarm of nerves intersecting in his stomach. Just the sight of you taking off your jacket was forcing him to stay in place instead of bolting to the men’s room and squeezing his eyes shut, raking his hand through his hair and forcing his nervous system down from its overdrive.

He tried to sound casual.

“You winning, then?”

“I plead the fifth..”

“Can’t do that in the Queen’s land, can you?”

The joke slipped like a sleight of hand, and your huff of laughter made his chest warm.

Maybe he could just..

“Least’ you get to show off your artillery.” He tapped a gloved fist on your exposed bicep, the muscle lean from your endless unpacking and carrying of equipment. The touch was hardly even an exchange, a tap to the side of your arm by the side of his hand. It was safe, he figured. But you straightened up and inched away.

His mind blurred your words as you excused yourself back to the pool table. He fucked up. He fucked up.

But you were thinking the same. It had taken nearly ten turns before you gathered enough courage to return to the bar counter, and when he spoke to you first, every faux bit of confidence crumbled to the floor. You saw the shine in his eyes when he made his little quip, and wondered if they looked like that when he cracked those stupid jokes over comms. You wondered what his smile looked like, and then his hand touched your arm, and you inhaled sharply, removing yourself in fear of what you would do, what you would say, how your face looked, how your voice wavered. You fucked up.

Over the next week, somehow you combated your feelings of guilt by doubling down. It pained you to no end, but you didn’t know what to do besides continue what you’d started. You weren’t ready to tell the truth, even to yourself.

You figured the universe decided to punish you for your cowardice by giving you this mission. You and Simon camped on the side of a shallow valley, the foot of the snowy hills harboring a warehouse that a sensitive target was tracked to. The mission was over quickly, but by the time the target was dead, the snow had gotten so severe that the warehouse door was under too much pressure to open. It was safe enough inside, but there was nowhere to go.

“We’ve got to wait it out.” Simon conceded after several attempts of escape.

“It’s definitely below freezing in here..” You grunted as you moved the body to a sealed container.

“He’s not complaining.” Simon nodded to the corpse, making you roll your eyes as you latched the container shut.

After some searching, you started a fire underneath a vent, the wind disturbing the flames but also preventing the smoke from choking the room. The two of you had the brain to pack up your camp before descending the hill, so you laid out what you had and rested on your back. Simon sat on his own bedroll, looking at the flames.

“You’d be warmer if you were closer.”

“I’m right next to the fire.”

“Closer to me.”

Your breath hitched as you avoided his eyes, forcing a sigh. “I’m fine.”

“You know something?”

Your jaw twitched; he saw.

“Cupid could stick an arrow in your back while you stare at me, and you’d still fall for a rock on the floor instead a’ me.”

You adjusted your weight, covering your legs with your thermal blanket. Your heart began to hammer again when you noticed his nose and mouth were exposed. He’d shaved since the night at the bar.

You didn’t reveal a thing.

“What’s the difference?”

But then he laughed, and you saw one of his canines was pointed a bit. You saw he had dimples. You saw the smooth contours of his smile, and it was like your head was fastened irreversibly to look his way. His tongue appeared to wet his dry lips briefly and your cheeks burned. He spoke evenly. You studied how his mouth moved when he talked, following the inflections of his accent with your eyes.

“We’re stuck here, Sergeant. So I’ll be straight. What’s the fuckin’ deal?”

If anyone else swore that way, you’d take it as unnecessary aggression, but his eyes told you he just wanted an answer.

“Not everyone you meet is going to be infatuated with you..” Your words intended to bite, but they fell from your lips like dead leaves.

“Not everyone I meet knows how I think like you do.” His tone dipped with sincerity. “Not everyone cracks filthy jokes and doesn’t care what looks she gets. You’re not everyone, love.”

Your eyes met his at the nickname. “Simon..”

“I don’t bite.” He murmured. “So come get me.”

“Come get..” you breathed, and he nodded.

You sat up, facing him and shifting closer.

“S’a bit cruel, you know..” The quieter he got, the more gravel lined his words. “The other boys gettin’ your lovin’. Leavin’ me out, babe?”

His hand trailed to your jaw, his fingertips traveling from the skin behind your ear until the side of his knuckle held your chin.

“It’s not the same, they’re not.. they’re..”

He was so close now, the breath of his words almost right against your lips. He lifted your mask until he could watch the way your lips parted.

“They’re not me..”

He nailed his words in when he kissed you, slowly and with a confidence you did not expect. He pulled back for a moment, likely to ask if it was alright that he’d practically confessed for you, but you were pulling him back into your arms before he could get a word out. His arm held you upright and close to him, not wandering, but instead soothing up your back with gentle movements, his other hand carefully holding your face and occasionally brushing his thumb over your cheek. The howling of the wind outside seemed to quiet; it was just the sound of his breathing, the faint, intoxicating noise that murmured from his chest. He took a fragment of your lip between his teeth before soothing over the intrusion with his tongue. He was impossibly warm.

“Fuckin’ hell, mate..”

You drew back roughly, Simon grunting in surprise before noticing what had startled you. Gaz stood with the warehouse door pried open, panting from exertion.

“Didn’t know you got down like that, Lieu-"

“That’ll do!”

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x female reader #simon riley imagine

[toychest321]

With the end of Ramadan rapidly approaching, I'd like to give attention to another Muslim doll line. Though unlike the others, this one is far less obscure...

You know them, you love them, give it up for the Arabian Friends!!!

While Fulla is objectively more popular than Arabian Friends (having a longer span of releases and merchandise), I'd definitely say Arabian Friends are more talked about in western doll collecting circles. This is likely because while all the other Muslim doll lines I've found use Barbie proportions, these moreso resemble Winx or W.I.T.C.H.

Arabian Friends were released by Newboy, the company behind Fulla, in 2007. They were first teased in issues 08 and 10 of Fulla Magazine, before being officially revealed in issues 11 and 14 (the latter seen above).

Only 8 dolls in total have been released for the line: a Deluxe and a Budget doll for each of the four characters. The Deluxe sets came with two outfits, accessories, and an Abaya. The Budget sets came with one outfit and a matching Hijab. Each doll had 7 points of articulation, with bend-and-snap knees.

A third line was announced in 2008 in Fulla Magazine issue 19, advertising that whoever could answer which character had which profession would enter a raffle with the chance to receive a full Arabian Friends collection, but this ultimately never came to pass. (The answers were: Muna - Fashion Designer, Amal - Kids' Teacher, Dunya - Coach, and Ahlam - Air Hostess)

It's said on Dollect there might have been an accompanying animated series, but the most I was able to find were two videos. One seems to be a trailer for the animated series.

The other includes a Back To School merchandise advertisement, and what might be an animation where the girls reminisce on when they were younger and how their aspirations led to their respective careers (the trailer seems to re-use animation from both of these).

A comment beneath the Trailer claims these were actually meant to advertise for an upcoming movie rather than a series, but no further news came out after these videos were released. If this is true it's honestly a shame, and might have been cancelled around when the third series was intended to release. The animation provided reminds me of Sailor Moon, and I would've loved to see it in a full storyline!

First character up is Amal, whose name means "Hope"! Her description reads:

"Never forget that hope is the key that opens all closed doors. With hope in your heart you will never be alone and nothing in life will seem impossible.."

Amal reminds me the most of Usagi from Sailor Moon, as the animation seems to portray her personality as being kind yet clumsy. It's ironic that she eventually becomes a schoolteacher as well, considering she apparently had a habit of arriving to classes late. She's also seen tucking a child into bed, so perhaps she's a mother, older sister, or aunt as well?

While depicted in the animation as having honey blonde hair, her doll has dirty blonde hair in two low pigtails (possibly tied by pink ribbon or thread). And ironically, despite her Deluxe doll using more patterns than her friends, her Budget doll is the only one without a patterned shirt.

Next is Muna, whose name means "Wish". Her description reads:

"Wishes are like bright stars in a dark sky although they are only small they fill our lives with happiness and make the darkness beautiful."

Muna is a Fashion Designer with an eye for intricate design and detail. She spends a good amount of time in her studio, seen drawing on her friend's leg cast and her highschool classroom's chalkboard. At one point, Muna is also seen helping an elderly woman across the street, so clearly her devotion to her work doesn't stop her from being charitable when she can be!

Her fashion style in both doll and animated form definitely seems the most bold out of her friends, reminding me of when 2000s-era fashion would draw inspiration from the 70s! While in the animation she and Dunya were depicted with tanned olive skin, their dolls have the same skintone as Amal and Ahlam. She has brown hair with red highlights. In the animation her hair was often depicted with side part bangs and a headband. However, her Deluxe doll has a red beanie, and her Budget doll has a middle part with braids coming down on either side of her head.

Ahlam's name means "Dreams". Her description reads:

"Dreams are like beautiful butterflies that fly in the wide blue sky. It is good to have dreams because they take you to a place where anything is possible.."

Ahlam is apparently a pianist in addition to her Air Hostess job, having dreamt of flying since she was in school. She seems to be portrayed as considerate and low-key, which aligns with her cool blue color scheme!

Her doll's fashion style seems to be Boho Chic, with beads, frills, and florals. In the animation her hair is short, with a side part and a blue butterfly barrette. Her doll, meanwhile, wears her black and blue hair beneath a navy cap in her Deluxe look, and a middle part tied back in her Budget look. Visually, she reminds me of Ami Mizuno!

And last but not least, Dunya! Her name means "Life", and her description reads:

"Your friendship is like a beautiful flower to me. Your nice words, kind deeds and positive attitude are sure to be rewarded with happiness and love.."

Dunya seems to be a healthy eater, going to someone's house with a bowl of greens (salad or kale perhaps?), and making a smoothie while on the phone. She also does stretches and runs on her treadmill. All of this makes her the perfect fit for a coaching position!

Weirdly enough, her hairstyle in the animation is exactly like Amal's doll, with two low pigtails tied by pink ribbon. Her doll, meanwhile, has brown hair in a side part tied in a high pony with silver elastics (giving me Vidia vibes tbh). Her olive green fashion seems to be relatively modern (at least for the 2000s) and urban. Her clothes are the ones I can most easily see on a Bratz doll!

Overall, I simply adore this line!!! It feels more character-focused than other ones I've covered, and I'm a sucker for such strong color-blocking! It's hard for me to even pick a favorite, since their centralized aesthetics are all so compelling and unique! If anyone who knows Arabic would be able to translate what they say in the animations, I'll happily add an addendum to this post for clarification!

It's a shame the line and its movie was cancelled before it could receive the acclaim it deserved, I would've loved to see what more it had to offer! Regardless, I'm thoroughly impressed with what they managed to put out, and hope the designers have been able to apply their clear talents in other endeavors!

Ramadan Kareem!

#dolls #dollblr #muslim dolls #arabian friends dolls

[tosomeonessomeone]

Entwined.

words・ 4.1k /pairings・ OT8 x Reader / genres・ fluff and funny? / warnings・ intercourse, minors DNI.

Chapter I - Despierto

As I strolled through the streets of Sydney, my gaze inadvertently collided with a stranger's. At that moment, something peculiar unfolded – colours danced before my eyes, and I sensed that the man, now mere steps away from me, experienced the same phenomenon.

"Hey," he greeted with a gentle smile. "Hey," I reciprocated, returning his smile. "I'm Christopher," he introduced himself, extending his hand. Accepting the gesture, I replied, "I'm Y/N."

As we shook hands, a strange sensation washed over me as if our connection was more than just physical. Christopher's eyes sparkled with an unusual intensity, and I found myself drawn to him despite the oddity of the situation.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he said, his voice soothing yet strangely hypnotic. "Would you like to grab a coffee?" he asked, gesturing toward a nearby café bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.

I nodded eagerly, my heart racing with excitement and curiosity. A comfortable silence enveloped us as we walked, allowing us both to digest the revelation that we were soulmates.

The world around us seemed to fade into the background as I marvelled at the newfound colours dancing before my eyes, each hue vibrant and alive in a way I had never experienced before.

Twenty-seven years of seeing the world in monochrome suddenly felt like a distant memory, replaced by the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within me.

As we settled into our seats, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of cake, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. I sipped my cappuccino, savouring the rich, creamy taste. At the same time, Christopher enjoyed the bold flavour of his espresso.

"So…" he began, his eyes twinkling with wonder as he gazed at me over the rim of his cup, "I didn't know the world could be so colourful." His laughter was infectious, and I couldn't help but join in.

"Me neither," I replied, grateful for this unexpected journey into a world filled with vibrant hues and endless possibilities.

We discussed our newfound connection, sharing stories of disbelief and amazement at how fate had brought us together.

Christopher recounted how he had spent years searching for meaning in a dull and lifeless world, only to discover it in the depths of my eyes.

I, too, shared my journey of self-discovery and how meeting him had filled the void I never knew existed. As we spoke, it became clear that our souls had been yearning for each other long before we met.

"I can't believe this is happening," Christopher said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd find someone who sees the world like I do."

"Me neither," I admitted, tracing patterns on the table with my fingertip. "It's like everything suddenly makes sense."

Christopher reached across the table, gently taking my hand in his. "I feel like I've known you forever," he said softly.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spreading through me at his touch. "I feel the same way," I replied, squeezing his hand gently.

And at that moment, we sat together in the cosy café, surrounded by the buzz of conversation and the aroma of coffee.

We ended up sharing a cake, indulging in its sweetness as we continued to open up to each other.

Christopher asked if I was from around, and I shook my head, explaining that I was in Sydney on vacation. He chuckled at my attempt to pass off my English accent as local, knowing it was distinctly different.

I laughed, feeling a warmth spreading through me. "Well, I'm actually from [the reader's country]," I admitted, feeling vulnerable and excited at sharing this part of myself with him.

"Your accent is quite charming," Christopher said with a smile, his eyes twinkling as he noticed my blush.

"Thank you," I replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his compliment.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, "Are you from around here?"

He shook his head. "No, actually, I was born in South Korea. I moved to Australia when I was young, but now I'm back in South Korea again."

My eyes widened in surprise. "That's incredible! But why did you move back?"

Christopher hesitated momentarily before revealing, "Well, I'm a K-pop idol. I'm the leader of Stray Kids."

I gasped, unable to contain my astonishment. "Wait. Oh my! I can't believe it! How did I not recognize you?"

Christopher chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at me, his newfound soulmate. "Oh, I'm sorry for my outburst," I said, still slightly embarrassed.

"There's no need to apologize," he said warmly. It's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't recognize me immediately."

I nodded, feeling a sense of understanding pass between us. "I have to blame my little sister," I explained, "she's quite the Stray Kids fan. She will be speechless when she finds out I was sitting here having coffee with you."

Christopher laughed, his tone light and genuine. "Well, maybe one day she'll get to meet me, too."

As we continued to talk, I couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected twists and turns life had taken, leading me to this moment with Christopher, my soulmate and a K-pop idol. It was a story I never could have imagined.

"So, do you work?" Christopher asked, his eyes curious as he sipped his coffee.

I nodded, feeling a sense of pride as I replied, "Yes, I'm a preschool teacher. But my true passion lies in the arts."

His eyes lit up with excitement. "That's amazing! I have another soulmate, Hyunjin, deeply rooted in the arts. I have a feeling you two would hit it off right away."

I blinked in shock at the revelation that Christopher had another soulmate. "Another soulmate?" I repeated, my mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Christopher chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, it's a bit complicated. All the boys from Stray Kids are actually soulmates, too."

I sat there, trying to process this newfound information, feeling a mix of astonishment and intrigue swirling within me.

"It's okay, don't worry," I reassured him with a warm smile, feeling a sense of understanding over me. "I would love to meet all of them. And I'm happy you were not alone all this time."

Christopher's expression softened with gratitude as he nodded in appreciation. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "It means a lot to me."

As the hours passed, Christopher and I were engrossed in conversation, discussing anything and everything that came to mind. Curiosity got the best of me, so I asked him about his age, only to discover we were the same age. I was older by just a couple of months. "97 babies," I joked, feeling a sense of camaraderie.

Christopher chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, my other soulmates never let me forget it," he admitted with a playful grin.

"Well, don't worry anymore," I replied, a mischievous twinkle in my eye. "I'm older by a few months, so I'll gladly take the teasing. It'll give you a break."

We shared a laugh, our connection growing stronger with each passing moment in that cosy café, surrounded by the comforting hum of conversation and the aroma of coffee.

As we reluctantly realized how late it had become, we glanced around the now dimly lit café, realizing it was nearly closing. With quick apologies, we hurried to settle our bill and bid farewell to the cosy atmosphere.

Christopher insisted on walking me back to my hotel, his presence a comforting reassurance in the bustling streets of Sydney at night. As we strolled along, he asked about the duration of my stay in Australia, his earnestness evident in the way he hung on to my every word.

"I'm here for another week," I replied, smiling at his genuine interest. "I would love to spend as much time with you as possible."

His smile widened, and a spark of excitement lit up his eyes. "Great," he said, his voice filled with warmth. We'll make the most of it then." With that promise lingering in the air, we continued our journey through the night, knowing our connection was just beginning to blossom.

We exchanged numbers, the promise of future conversations lingering in the air, and said our goodbyes. Our hug was long and comforting, neither of us wanting to overstep the boundaries of our newfound relationship. But as Christopher pulled away, I couldn't resist planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, a silent expression of the connection we had forged in such a short time.

With a giggle bubbling up inside me, I retreated to the comfort of my hotel room, feeling lighthearted and giddy, like a teenager experiencing their first crush. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in years, yet here I was, completely swept away by the magic of it all.

Meanwhile, as Christopher returned home, he couldn't contain his excitement. He called his members individually and shared the news of our meeting, their voices filled with happiness and anticipation at the thought of meeting me.

And as they exchanged excited chatter about the possibilities ahead, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected twist of fate that had brought us all together.

Couple days later

As I stepped into the park, the morning sunlight filtering through the trees cast a golden glow over everything, including Christopher, who stood there looking effortlessly handsome in his white button-up shirt and loose pants. His curly hair danced in the gentle breeze, adding to his charm.

"G'morning!" he greeted me with a bright smile, his eyes lighting up as he spotted me approaching.

"Morning," I replied, returning his smile as I saw him and the adorable little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel at his side.

"Oh! This is Berry. She wanted to come along to meet you," Christopher explained, reaching down to pat the small dog's head affectionately.

I couldn't help but giggle at Berry's excited, wagging tail, feeling a warmth spread through me at Christopher's thoughtful gesture. "She's adorable," I remarked, bending down to scratch behind Berry's ears.

As I got up, Christopher's smile widened, revealing a small bag and two cups of coffee. "I bought breakfast," he announced cheerfully, "Thank you," I replied gratefully and kissed his cheek.

He handed me Berry's leash, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. As I took hold of it, he extended his now liberated hand, silently inviting me to intertwine our fingers. Eventually, we stumbled upon a charming bench nestled beneath a canopy of trees, and there we settled down together, just like couples in classic films.

As we enjoyed our breakfast and Berry's company, the morning sun cast a warm glow around us, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me.

We enjoyed each other's presence in comfortable silence; the only sounds around us were the occasional chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

"Y/N…" Christopher's voice broke the silence, and I looked into his eyes, curious about what he had to say.

He paused, a hint of hesitation flickering before he continued, "Oh, don't look at me like that. it makes me want to kiss you." He chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood with a playful flirt comment.

I couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a rush of warmth spreading through me at the thought of his lips on mine. Without hesitation, I leaned forward and quickly pecked his lips before turning away to sip my coffee, leaving him frozen in place.

"So… what did you want to say?" I asked mischievously, turning back to him with a playful twinkle in my eye. Christopher cleared his throat, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he looked at me like an idiot.

"Well…" he began, his fingers intertwined with mine, "When your trip here ends, where do you plan on going?"

I pondered momentarily before replying, "I'm not sure yet. Classes don't start for another month, so I considered travelling more."

Christopher's eyes sparkled with interest. "Oh, where to?" he asked eagerly.

"Maybe South Korea," I replied with a playful smirk. I just found out my soulmate lives there, and I would love to learn more about where he's from."

Christopher chuckled at my playful jab." Oh, I'm pretty sure he will be thrilled to have you there," Christopher replied warmly. He brought my hand to his lips and gently kissed it. He then met my gaze with an affectionate smile, his eyes filled with love and warmth.

I couldn't help but feel the excitement in my chest at his words and the tender gesture. "I hope so," I replied softly, returning his gaze with equal fondness.

As we sat there, hand in hand, lost in each other's eyes, I knew that no matter where my travels took me, Christopher would always be there, a guiding light in life's journey.

Later that day, Christopher invited me to have lunch and meet his family. Soon, I found myself bonding with his sister, Hannah, and his little brother, Lucas. His parents welcomed me with open arms, and I felt a sense of belonging that warmed my heart.

As night approached, Christopher drove me back to my hotel once again. However, when we arrived this time, I hesitated momentarily before inviting him into my room. Without a word, he followed me inside, and as soon as the door closed behind us, the air between us crackled with anticipation.

We both knew it had only been a few days since we met. Still, the connection between us was undeniable, and the longing was palpable in how our bodies gravitated toward each other.

Unable to resist any longer, we surrendered to the magnetic pull between us, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss that ignited a fire.

As our kiss deepened, I felt his hands begin to explore my body, sending shivers down my spine. I moaned softly as he trailed kisses down my neck, his hands slipping under my shirt to caress my sides. I arched my back, pressing myself closer to him, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin against mine.

He lifted me up effortlessly, carrying me to the bed, where he gently laid me down. His hands roamed over my body, igniting every nerve ending as he slowly undressed me. I watched as he removed his own clothes, revealing his toned, muscular body.

Christopher's hands continued to explore my body. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his lips trailing down my neck. "I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be with you."

Feeling a rush of desire wash over me. His fingers traced the outline of my bra, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as he unclasped it, freeing my breasts. His lips followed his hands, kissing and nibbling at my skin as he made his way down my body.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell with affection for him. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself," I teased, running my fingers through his hair.

Christopher chuckled, his hands moving lower, slipping under the waistband of my panties. "I can't wait to make love to you," he said, his voice low and husky.

My breath caught in my throat as he began to stroke me, his fingers moving in a slow, sensual rhythm that made my toes curl with pleasure. "Oh, god," I moaned, arching my back as the sensations washed over me.

Christopher's fingers slipped inside my panties, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through me. I gasped as he began to stroke me, his fingers moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that drove me wild with desire. I felt myself getting wetter and wetter, my body responding to his touch with every passing moment.

Christopher's lips found mine again, and we kissed hungrily, lost in the moment's passion. I could feel his hard length pressing against me, and I knew that I wanted him more than anything.

"Please," I whispered, breaking the kiss. "Take me."

Christopher's eyes met mine, and I saw the desire burning in his gaze. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

I nodded, my desire overwhelming any doubts or fears I might have had. "Yes," I said. "I want you.". In a blink of an eye, we removed any fabric left between us.

With a groan, Christopher positioned himself between my legs, his eyes never leaving mine. Slowly, he pushed inside me, and I gasped at the sensation of him filling me up completely.

We moved together, our bodies rocking in perfect harmony as we chased our pleasure to its peak. I cried out as I came, my body trembling with ecstasy, and Christopher followed soon after, his own release washing over him in a wave of pleasure.

We lay there for a while, catching our breath and basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. Christopher's arms were wrapped around me, holding me close, and I felt safe and content in his embrace.

"That was amazing," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "It really was," I agreed.

He leaned in to kiss me, and we kissed long and deep, our bodies entwined once again. I deeply connected with Christopher as we made love a second time. I knew without a doubt that he was my soulmate.

Afterwards, we laid facing each other. "I can't believe how perfect this feels," Christopher said, his voice filled with wonder.

"I know," I said, tracing circles on his chest.

Christopher's fingers traced lazy patterns along my skin as we watched a random movie playing on TV, the sound as a soothing backdrop to our shared moment of intimacy.

"This is perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection as he gently kissed my forehead.

I smiled, feeling a rush of happiness at his words. "Yes, it is," I replied softly, snuggling closer to him, knowing that everything felt right in the world. The week had flown by in a whirlwind of laughter, shared moments, and stolen kisses.

SEOUL, KR

Now, we stood side by side at the gates of Incheon International Airport. Christopher and I were masked, sunglasses shielding our eyes and hats pulled low to conceal our identities. We tried to blend in and attract as little attention as possible.

"Are you ready for this?" Christopher asked, his voice slightly muffled by the mask as he glanced at me.

I nodded, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in my stomach. "As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, reassuringly squeezing Christopher's hand.

We took a deep breath and glanced again to ensure we weren't drawing unwanted attention. Then, we stepped forward, embarking on the next chapter of our journey together.

Christopher led me to a sleek black car waiting outside a private airport. Despite my protests, he insisted on helping me with my luggage, his hands warm and reassuring as he loaded it into the trunk.

As we settled into the backseat of the car, I couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement building within me. Christopher's manager was already seated inside, and as they engaged in conversation, I felt grateful for his thoughtful consideration, especially when he took the time to translate essential details for me.

The car pulled away from the airport, the city lights blurring past as we made our way to the dorms. Christopher turned to me, his expression severe yet filled with warmth.

"I want you to stay with me in the dorms," he said softly, his eyes locking with mine. "It'll be safer that way."

I hesitated momentarily, uncertainty gnawing at the edges of my mind. But as I looked into Christopher's earnest gaze, I knew I could trust him with my safety and well-being.

"Okay," I replied, giving him a small smile. I'll stay with you." With that decision made, I settled back into the seat, ready to embark on this new adventure with the man I had come to love.

As we rode through the streets of Seoul, my stomach twisted and turned with anticipation. I couldn't shake the nerves that fluttered inside me, wondering how Christopher's other soulmates would perceive me. Would they like me? Would they accept me into their circle?

Sensing my nervous state, Christopher reached for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before bringing it to his lips to kiss it tenderly. "Everything will be fine," he assured me gently. "I'm 100% sure they will adore you."

His words brought a slight sense of comfort, and I couldn't help but smile at his unwavering confidence. Nodding in agreement, I leaned against his shoulder, finding solace in his presence as we made our way to his dorm.

As the car pulled to the dormitory, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the new experiences and challenges. But with Christopher by my side, I knew that no matter what happened, everything would be okay.

As Christopher led me to the entrance of the Stray Kids dorm, my heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. This was when I would meet some of Christopher's soulmates—Hyunjin and the members of 3racha, Chanbin, and Han.

He opened the door, and a wave of anxiety washed over me, but it wasn't my own. I tried to push aside the unfamiliar feeling, focusing instead on anticipating meeting the people who meant so much to Christopher.

Stepping into the dorm, We were greeted by the sight of Hyunjin and Chanbin cuddling on the sofa. Their faces lit up with joy as they spotted Christopher, and they quickly got up to greet and hug their lover and bandmate.

"Chris!" Hyunjin exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace. "It's been too long!"

Chanbin echoed the sentiment, wrapping his arms around Christopher with a warm smile. "Yeah, we missed you," he said, his voice filled with affection.

I stood back, watching the joyful reunion unfold, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance wash over me. Despite my initial nerves, I knew I was surrounded by people who cared deeply for Christopher, which made me feel right at home.

As I stepped out from behind Christopher, Chanbin noticed my presence and froze, his gaze on my chest. Confusion washed over me as I followed his gaze, only to find a soft glow from our chests.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized what was happening, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of disbelief wash over me. This wasn't how I had imagined our first meeting with Christopher's soulmates.

Hyunjin's reaction was no less shocking. He gasped loudly and bolted off to his room, leaving the rest of us stunned.

"Well, that's certainly unexpected," I muttered ironically, trying to lighten the mood as I glanced at Christopher, who looked just as bewildered as I felt.

Christopher reached out and took my hand, his touch grounding me in the surreal moment. I looked at him and pointed to Chanbin, trembling as I uttered, "Our hearts are glowing."

Chanbin relayed the same message to Christopher in Korean. For a moment, the three of us stood in disbelief, trying to make sense of the inexplicable phenomenon unfolding before us.

As we struggled to process the glowing hearts and the unexpected revelation, Hyunjin emerged from his room, clutching a sketchbook in trembling hands.

With a visible effort, he opened the book, revealing dozens of drawings of me. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the sketches, each capturing my likeness with stunning accuracy.

"I've been daydreaming about you for some time," Hyunjin said shakily, his voice filled with emotion.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, realization dawning instantly. My eyes widened in shock as I gasped, barely comprehending what Hyunjin had just revealed.

"Oh my…" I whispered, my voice trembling with disbelief. "You're the one in my daydreams?!"

We sat in the living room, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed us. Hyunjin asked hesitantly if he could hug me. Without hesitation, I nodded, feeling a sense of warmth and connection in his presence.

Chanbin, not wanting to be left out, playfully whined that he wanted a hug, too. I couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, marvelling at the surrealness of the situation. Two more soulmates added to the mix—honestly, life surprised us most unexpectedly.

Christopher couldn't contain his laughter at the absurdity of it all. "And you were nervous they would like you too," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced at me.

To be continued ✨

#skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #skz #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #lee minho x reader #han #lee know #seungmin #skz felix #skz smut #skz stay #han jisung #skz hyunjin #stray kids jisung #bang chan fluff #christopher bang #bang chan x reader #christopher bahng #stray kids bang chan

[maislovebot]

200 followers event: atsushi x reader

Here’s the m.list for my 200 followers event!!

I hope you enjoy it, goat!! I really don’t like how it turned out, idk why:( smh I think I have to practice writing fanfic more because I’ve been writing a actual book (like multiple chapter long story filled with lore) for my creative writing class and I think it’s making my ff writing suffer😭

Contains: afab + no prns, Atsu calls you ‘pretty’ and ‘dear’, fluff+smut, cuddling:3, slow and sensual, he acts like a little house cat, kinda switch dynamics, Atsu is mostly the dom though, reader calls him ‘Atsu’’, you tease him a lil, reader is wearing shorts, nipple stim, he marks you up (hickies, little nibbles, etc), mentions of you marking him but it doesn’t explicitly happen, brief oral (reader receiving)/cunnilingus, ‘gotta stay quiet’ trope, but not like voyeurism or anything, y’all just live in an apartment and it’s late, accidental teasing/orgasm denial, fingering (reader receiving), implied praise (reader receiving), against the wall, creampie, breeding kink if you really squint, overstim, multiple orgasms, aftercare, pillow talk

11:53 pm. It was 11:53 pm, and Atsushi knew that because it was so late that he should be sleeping, but he couldn’t help but keep chatting away with you.

You were facing one another, talking about miscellaneous things, with no real pattern. Atsushi was looking at you with pure adoration on his face, smiling whenever he saw your eyes staring right into his. Your smile was so comforting, he pulled you close to look at it a little closer. You giggled at this, bringing yourself over top of him to lay on his chest. You laid your head next to his, scratching his scalp. He curled into your touch, laying his hand on your waist to keep you in place. Your knee dug between his thighs, grinding against him slightly, making his eyes shut tight. You hadn’t even noticed you were doing it until Atsushi had started making noises in your ear, noises that sounded like a strange mix of whines and purrs?

“It’s so cute when you purr, Atsu.” You mumbled, breathing into his neck. You dug your knee deeper into his crotch and his arms trembled slightly while he brought his hands down to your sides.

“Ha—stop teasing me..” Atsushi groaned. You giggled again, trailing your hand down to his thighs to lightly caress them. Atsushi trailed his hand under your shirt, slowly snaking up your back. His hands were cold, as they always were. His body was always warm, bubbling, almost. But his hands and feet were always freezing. The cool contrast against your burning skin felt nice.

As he traced along your back, rubbing and scratching it, you slowly stopped your teasing, focusing more on his hands on you. He trailed his free hand down, pulling your pajama shorts and underwear to the side. You gasped, gripping his shoulders tight when he grazed his finger over your clit with the slightest of pressure.

“Bold move, Atsu.” You giggled.

Atsushi tilted his head up to face you, “sorry, dear. It’s too tempting.” Atsushi grinned.

He began applying more pressure to your clit, trailing his other hand down to rest in the waistband of your shorts. He slowly pulled your shorts down, and you lifted yourself up to aid it. Your shorts were collecting at your knees, and he grinned when you gripped the waistband of his pants as well.

“You want me quite a bit, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded, “it’s late. We’ve been talking all night. Kyouka isn’t here. It seems like the perfect time.”

Atsushi nodded, “I agree, don’t worry.”

He cupped the undersides of your knees, pulling you up to meet his face. You ruffled a hand in his hair, kissing him deep. You were straddling Atsushi, laying over top of him while the both of you progressively slid your pants off.

By the time you two were done kissing, you were out of breath, and you’d both managed to kick your pants off of your legs, leaving them somewhere under your covers that neither of you cared to search for.

Atsushi lifted you off of the bed, gripping the underside of your knees tight again. You were surprised that he’d picked you up, as the bed was so warm, but you didn’t question it. You knew you’d both be warm soon.

He pushed you against a wall, kissing you yet again.

You mumbled something through Atsushi’s lips about his body being warm, but he didn’t hear. He was preoccupied. He wrapped his arms around your waist, as did you, holding the both of you in place.

Atsushi was breathing heavily now, touching the tip of your tongue with his. His cheeks were flushed and he was almost putting his full body weight against you to keep you against the wall, before he grabbed both of your hands and held them against the wall. Atsushi held your hands on either side of your hips, slowly dragging them up the wall and over his shoulders, with one hand tangling in his hair. Atsushi was satisfied with that, letting go of your hands and gripping one of your legs yet again and lifting it up.

Atsushi finally paused to take a look at the scene he created, and he turned red when he looked into your eyes and saw how desperate you were. Your eyes were half lidded and almost steamy looking. His eyes slowly trailed down, and he ran his thumb over your chest.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” you joked. He chuckled, leaning down. “Sorry, I can’t help but stare.” He bent his arm to keep holding your thigh, although the position was a bit awkward because he was leaning down and tracing over your clothed chest at eye level. You reached down and took off your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, then your hand took purchase in Atsushi’s hair again. Atsushi nodded appreciatively, kissing your side quickly.

“Thank you,”

He mumbled your name under his breath while he kissed across your chest, before taking your nipple in his mouth. Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling him closer to your chest.

“Hnn..Atsu,” you tilted your head back, his hands tracing your hips and sides making you shiver. Partially from his cold his hands were, and partially because of the sensations. His hands were all over you, trying to touch as much of you as he could.

He slowly trailed over to the other side of your chest, taking the other through his slim fingers. You noticed the small red splotches along your chest where he was licking, and you sighed playfully. At least they were hidden. You really did want him to mark you, there was no better feeling, but it was always embarrassing to explain it to your friends the next day.

Atsushi seemed to be lost in thought, all of his thoughts were focused on your body. He may not admit it, but there’s a part of him that wants to mark you up. There was a part of him that was proud when people noticed his marks. Sure, Dazai teasing him endlessly was always shameful, but the fact that people knew how good he made you feel from the nibbles and licks left on your body made him feel cocky, an emotion he was not used to feeling.

He also took pride in the marks you left on him. The scratches that were vaguely visible on his arms and the back of his neck. The ruffles in his hair after Atsushi had left his apartment in the morning, leaving everyone wondering if he didn’t brush his hair or if you had given him a rather special goodbye. The small marks that you’d given him on his neck from the night before. It was all too much.

He wasn’t thinking about what was going to be on you or him tomorrow though, right now he was focusing on you. On you and the kisses he was leaving all over you as he trailed down your stomach. He heard the small noises that left your throat as you ruffled his hair, and he nibbled on your thighs to get a reaction out of you. You gasped when he lifted your leg up slightly, just enough to gently bite between your thighs. He wasn’t exactly biting hard, but it was certainly visible. Especially because he had little fangs, presumably from his ability. He trailed across your thighs, then he placed his hand between your thighs to gently rest on you. He licked small stripes up your cunt, moaning quietly at the flavor.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm..” you mumbled.

Atsushi held your thigh up just enough to slightly hinder your movement, taking notice of your small whines and gentle moans. You were trying to be quiet because it was so late, especially because the wall Atsushi had decided to pin you up against was the wall connected to Dazai’s room, and if he figured out what was going on, you both would never hear the end of it. It was hard though. So hard. Especially when Atsushi had started licking small circles to your clit, collecting spit on his tongue to make it feel even better.

“Feel good?” Atsushi whispered.

“Y-yes, Atsu. Keep—keep going.”

Atsushi nodded into your cunt, lifting your leg up slightly higher so he could get a better angle. He was more or less under you now, pulling you down onto his face by the hips while he ate you out. The sudden movement made you whine out, and Atsushi listened to his surroundings intently to make sure no one was overhearing the both of you. Atsushi didn’t seem to notice anything, so he kept going.

His movements were slow, a vast contrast compared to his normally fast paced and relentless speed he liked to set. You could tell he was tired and it was hindering his movements, but he was also in a different mood tonight. He wanted to savor every second with you. Maybe it was because he had a mission in a week, so he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, or maybe it was just what that night was calling for. Either way, he was taking things slow and you loved it.

Atsushi’s tongue was making you feel so good that you began to subconsciously grind against his face, taking him by the hair, trying to pull him closer. Atsushi was gripping your hips tight, leaving small finger-sized bruises where they were. He normally grabbed your hips even harder, but his tired and exhausted body was making him sufficiently less strong than he’d normally be.

Atsushi’s face was sticky and wet by the time he pulled away. You were so close to the edge that you groaned maybe a little too loud when he pulled away.

“Sorry, dear. I’ll make it up to you.” Atsushi grinned from the floor, looking up at you with bright, tired eyes. You nodded, looking at him wipe his face with his fingers, before using what was originally on his face as lube. The mix of your precum and his spit turned out to be a good substitute. He prodded at your entrance, before slowly pushing two of his fingers inside of you. You gasped at the feeling, as did he. His mind couldn’t help but wander to thoughts of what you’ll feel like on him.

He started off with slowly letting you get used to the feeling, before pumping his fingers inside of you. He spread his fingers apart, watching as you tossed your head back and gripped his hair tighter. As Atsushi stretched you out, he brought his head forward and began to leave small kisses to your hips. He would occasionally accentuate the kiss by staying there for a few extra moments, sucking on the skin softly and leaving small red marks.

Atsushi mumbled something you couldn’t hear, but you could make out one word, that being ‘pretty’.

You couldn’t tell if Atsushi was complimenting you or trying to get your attention because he would call you pretty as a nickname, and also just in general. The idea of not knowing which one he was doing made you chuckle.

“So pretty,” Atsushi mumbled.

You smiled fondly, playing with his hair before tossing your head back again as he curled his fingers up into that spot. That one spot that made your breath hitch and your vision go white. He began to rub circles into your clit with his thumb as well. You could feel yourself getting close again, and it was even faster when approaching this time. You clenched your thighs around his hand, before quickly coming undone. Atsushi slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you, helping to aid you through your orgasm.

“Hah..Atsushi, that was really good.”

“Really?” Atsushi pushed farther, needing more praise, craving more praise, per usual.

“Really. Just your hands were able to make my thighs shake,” you pointed down to your thighs comically. “Imagine what else you can do.”

Atsushi nodded enthusiastically, jumping up off the floor and standing in front of you, kissing you yet again. He trailed down your neck, and you jumped slightly when he nibbled on your neck, a very obvious spot, but you were too tired at this point. He was making you feel good, and that was all that mattered right now. You could deal with all that other stuff later.

Atsushi ran his hand down your side, purring again when you scratched his head. It wasn’t necessarily loud purring like you’d hear from a real house cat, but it was certainly audible. He buried his head in your neck again, grinding against you as you pet his hair. With his head still buried in the crook of your neck, he gripped your right thigh again to hold you up. You were open and exposed to him at this angle, and it made you shiver. You could feel him pressing against your skin, his skin was rough, but strange enough, you liked the feeling. He lifted you up a little bit by grabbing your hips, but not high enough for you to make a large impact if you fell.

You reached your hand forward, collecting his precum in the palm of your hand and jerking him off slightly, just enough to get him nice and wet. Atsushi whimpered slightly at the feeling, digging his head further into your shoulder, biting it slightly. The bite hurt a little, making you whine as well.

“A-Atsu, that hurts..”

He nodded, no longer biting you.

“Sorry, your hand just feels really, really good.”

You chuckled a little, quickly being cut off as Atsushi pistoned towards your cunt, looking you in the eyes for validation, before seeing you nod and bring your hand down to his hips to push him forward. He aligned his tip with your entrance, slowly pushing inside.

“So—tight,” Atsushi slurred his words a little.

“Mhm..”

You both stood there for a few moments as Atsushi slowly bottomed out inside of you, before finally reaching the hilt.

“Good?” Atsushi asked.

“Yeah..please move, Atsu.”

Atsushi always loved when you called him Atsu. How it rolled off your tongue, how sweet you were when you called him it, how intimate it was. He loved it all.

He throbbed a little at the nickname, following your orders and briefly starting off slow, before progressively gaining speed. Whenever his hips met yours you saw stars.

You lost your breath as he gained speed, and Atsushi held your hips forward so your hips wouldn’t hit the wall and make noise, but it made the penetration even deeper than you would’ve expected. The feeling made you whine into Atsushi’s ear, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Does it feel good?”

You didn’t respond, just grabbing Atsushi’s hair to hold him in your neck.

“Well?”

“Mhm..s-so good, ‘Tsu.”

Atsushi grinned, gripping your hips tighter while sliding down your thigh and onto your knee for easier access. You brought your hand down to rub small circles on your clit, and Atsushi throbbed when he looked down and saw the sight. You looked so desperate. So desperate to cum. The stimulation to your clit made you tighten around him, and he moaned slightly at the feeling.

“F-fuck..trying so hard to keep quiet right now..!”

With everything going on, you could feel yourself getting close. It was so much. So much was going on, you could feel your body heating up and trembling. The beads of sweat forming on your forehead were making you look even more delectable in Atsushi’s eyes and he could see that you were close too from your heavy breathing and trembling thighs. You clamped your leg that was suspended in the air around Atsushi’s waist, and Atsushi held it there. Keeping it in place.

He kept at the same speed, although the vigor in his movements was going up. He was struggling to hold your hips in place, but he had to. He couldn’t let your hips hit the wall.

You moaned maybe a little too loud as your orgasm reached its peak, then you slumped back against the wall as gently as you could. You tried to catch your breath for a few moments, but Atsushi didn’t give you a break. He kept going in a desperate attempt to come, before he finally reached his peak as well. He came inside of you, letting your leg down and wrapping his arms around your waist as his legs shook. Atsushi sat there for a few moments, watching as his cum dripped down your thighs and he almost immediately picked up speed again at the sight.

“Hnn—Atsu—too much!”

“Please, just one more..!” Atsushi begged, writhing in your ear. “After this I’ll be done, I promise.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close. You were slowly making your way up the wall, and Atsushi held your hips in place with his own.

He kept going at it, he couldn’t stop even if he tried. He was addicted. Feeling you clench around him desperately and bury your face in his neck drove him crazy. He couldn’t last long, the previous orgasm already building up again.

“Ahh—‘m close again..!” Atsushi blurted out.

You nodded, whining as Atsushi brought his hand down to play with your clit. You were avoiding giving it any stimulation in hopes of avoiding too much overstimulation, but it seems like Atsushi had other ideas.

It honestly wasn’t anything new. Atsushi would always get so desperate from feeling you come around him, and from looking at you shut your eyes tight as you rode out your orgasm. The way your face would change and contort as you reached the peak of your orgasm drove him crazy. This would make it so he could almost never stop after just one round. He had to see all of these different factors on your face as much as he possibly could. Especially because the faces you’d make would only get more intense the more overstimulated you got.

“You can take it, right? You can take me?”

“Mhm!” You whined out, gripping his shoulders tighter and scratching at his skin.

Atsushi nodded, increasing speed and taking your clit between his fingers, watching you squirm. Your thighs started to shake again, and Atsushi gripped one of your thighs to keep it in place.

You mumbled something about being close in Atsushi’s ear, but he hardly processed it. He kept the same speed, barely keeping your hips from banging into the wall with each thrust.

You finally got close, and your thighs tightened around Atsushi’s hips as you tried to stabilize yourself. Atsushi froze for a split second when he felt how tight you were around him, but he didn’t pause for long before he was back at it and he was cumming again with a quiet cry. His hips completely slowed, but he kept rubbing circles on your clit to drive you over the edge.

You finally came undone, your muscles tensing for a few moments before your entire body slouched. You probably could’ve handled more under different circumstances, but the fact you had to remain quiet and you were already exhausted from the long day you had, you had to tap out. It made every orgasm you had even more intense. Not to mention if you stayed up much later you and Atsushi would most certainly regret it in the morning.

Atsushi got the message, slowly pulling out of you, watching as his cum dripped down your thighs yet again. He knew he couldn’t, but he had to resist every urge to kneel down between your thighs and clean you right up. He held you close, walking you backwards and onto the bed. He watched you breathe heavily as you sat down on the bed, catching your breath. He laid down next to you, pulling you close to him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You did good,” Atsushi mumbled.

You turned over and wrapped your legs around his frame, pressing your face into his neck.

“So did you.”

You and Atsushi laid there for a few minutes, and he heard your breathing get heavier, indicating you had fallen asleep. He didn’t want to wake you up, but he couldn’t sit in this sticky mess for much longer. He shook you gently, and you rustled the sheets slightly before waking up again.

“Ah sorry..it’s just late.” You said.

Atsushi looked over and checked the clock. 12:50. It really was late. He was definitely going to be groggy tomorrow.

Atsushi smiled at you, sitting up as he placed his hand on your back so you could sit up with him. The brief moment where he was sitting up and you were still lying down is where he really noticed how many marks he had left on you. He blushed out of embarrassment when he saw how your neck was littered with love bites.

You didn’t seem to mind though.

You and Atsushi made your way to the shower, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake anyone up. The shower was rather quick, but Atsushi enjoyed every second of it. Once you two were out, you laid down on your bed and wrapped yourself up in all of your blankets, Atsushi laying right next to you.

You two both fell asleep in moments, but not before Atsushi whispered into your ear.

“Goodnight.”

Wc - 3.5k

Atsushi 100% has little fangs because of his special ability

#bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs #atsushi nakajima x reader smut #nakajima atsushi #atsushi nakajima x reader #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs atsushi #atsushi x reader #atsushi nakajima #atushi nakajima

[autismnation]

Scare

Summary: You and your friend go to a haunted house, expecting scares but recieving romance.

Pairing: Scare Actor Hobie Brown x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Not beta read + wrote this at 1am so if it sucks that’s why. Fluff (I guess?). 2nd person POV. Hobie Brown wearing a skirt. Reader’s friend is terrified of everything/Reader is fearless. Reader simping for Hobie in internal dialogue. Flirty Hobie (kinda?).

Words: 900.

You rarely got scared.

You could watch a million horror movies and fall asleep through them all, people could jump out at you all day long and you would laugh; you went to every haunted house available and only managed to yawn.

Your friend, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. They were an utter scaredy-cat, hiding behind pillows before the horror movie even began and unable to even enjoy kids’ scares.

But you promised to fix that — and that’s why you were at the new haunted house that recently opened up.

“Let’s do the worse one and get it over and done with,” You suggested.

Your friend shook their head firmly, looking like they were already a few moments away from shrieking in fear, “No! Let’s work up to them. That way, I won’t, you know, pass out in the first one.”

You stared at the map in your hand and gestured to a ride beside you, “Well, that one’s supposed to be the least scary but—“

Before you could finish, your friend had grabbed your hand and dragged you along with them as they got on the ride. It was only a few minutes long and you sat in a cart that looked like a coffin.

“Cute,” You hummed at the ride’s decorations as it began.

You didn’t expect much to happen. The only people you’d seen get on the ride were pre-teens so you expected cheap jump-scares and awfully annoying creepy music. And you were pretty much right — it made you yawn, and sometimes wince when your friend squeezed your hand too hard.

Finally, you had reached the end, bumping into an empty cart that seemed to have been left behind.

“Okay, you can stop screaming now,” You said as you grabbed your friend by their shoulders and gave them a rough shake.

“I’m going to pee my pants,” They whispered.

You let out a snort of amusement, “You probably already have. Now, let’s wait for these restraints to lift so we can see something that’s actually—“

And that’s when they got you.

Someone jumped out of the cart in front of you. They lunged forward, sharp and spiked teeth bared, as they let out an ear splitting shriek.

You jerked backward involuntarily and let out a small yelp. It was nothing compared to your friend’s reaction since you had to physically muffle their scream with your hand, but it surprised you nonetheless.

The restraints finally lifted and you both got out of the cart. Teeth still bared, the actor that scared you started to walk forward.

You had to admit, their costume was pretty cool: one of the scariest you’d seen, actually. Their makeup was a pattern of bold and sharp spikes and they even had white contacts in to erase their pupils, as well as piercings that flashed different colours under the lights of the haunted house. It seemed like their outfit was handmade too. They wore a t-shirt made out of other different t-shirts, safety pinned together and splashed with fake blood. Their long red skirt that looked very much like real organs sewn together made shivers run down your spine. The actor also wore ripped fishnets and had big clunky boots on.

A smile came to your face as you pointed at your own identical shoes, “Hey, me too!”

The actor tilted their head, sticking their tongue out. Somehow, it had been stained red too, adding to the whole killer aesthetic that was going on. For a moment, it seemed like they were going to say something…Then they darted straight toward you.

Your friend screamed and leapt back, but you stood your ground, used to the fake-outs the actors usually pulled.

The actor stopped a few centimetres away from you. They raised their hand, waving it in front of your face. You realised they had silver rings on too, some plain silver bands and some horror-like such as a skull or a realistic human heart.

You stared up at the actor, opening your mouth to say something, but became absolutely speechless as they chuckled.

A low, deep chuckle.

Your eyes widened as you realised the person in front of you was a man. A man with a very attractive voice.

“Nice costume,” was all you managed to get out, almost tripping over your words, as you shifted on your feet. Suddenly, it felt like every nerve of yours was on fire.

The man chuckled again, “Thanks, love.”

He had a British accent. You chuckled awkwardly, trying to ignore how hard your heart was pounding. The man leaned forward, waiting for your response as he smiled softly.

“Your rings are really cool,” You finally said before quickly walking past him, accidentally knocking his shoulder with yours.

Before you could leave, his hand was gripping your wrist tightly and turning you around. He took your hand and placed a ring inside — the one shaped like a skull.

“See you around, yeah?” He grinned as he closed your fist around the piece of jewellery, tapping it gently, “Name’s Hobie, by the way.”

The next few moments seemed to go by in a blur. You told him your name, learnt he’d be on break soon, got told to see him. You left the ride with a goofy grin on your face, your friend complaining in your ear about how unfair it was that you got such a good guy in such a small amount of time…

But you couldn’t focus on anything other than Hobie and his attractive voice and his pretty ring wrapped around your finger.

#hobie brown #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown fic #uhhh what other tags… #spiderpunk #spider punk #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman: atsv #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #ash shut up challenge

[milomilesmib]

Since I have been feeling a particularly strong attachment to my comfort item lately here are what I think PJO character's comfort items would be (short answers in bold text for those who want a quick read):

Percy: a blue stuffie from his childhood. He doesn't often have it with him but he always feels safer when he is with it. And yes, he probably calls the stuffie "he" because I said so

Grover: a little mushroom pendant from Juniper. He never puts it on anything, just keeps it in his pocket and takes it out to fidget with when he's stressed. It has a really smooth surface and pretty colours so it's a good sensory thing for him.

Annabeth: her camp necklace. She always has it and when she doesn't she feels bare. Every time she's stressed she looks at a bead and thinks of a good memory from that year.

Thalia: a shirt she particularly favours because she wore it a lot when on the run with Luke and Annabeth. Any time she's in a bad mood she wears it and it makes her feel a bit better.

Nico: canonically, it's his skull ring, but I also feel like he'd have a childhood blanket that he's really attached to. It's a really soft fabric and so he always uses it when he's feeling overstimulated or understimulated cause it works for both

Rachel: a scrunchie with a fall leaf pattern on it from Percy. It was the first birthday present he gave her. It was all he could find and afford to get her that he thought she might like and he was scared she'd be underwhelmed but she really appreciated that he went through the effort and now she always has it on her.

Leo: a rock he found on a beach field trip with Piper back at the Wilderness school. It's pink and translucent, so when he holds it up to the sun it lights up a bit. It reminds him that he's cared about and loved when he has an existential crisis about being the 7th wheel.

Piper: a rock matching Leo's, found on the same trip. It's grey and smooth with streaks of white and green. It was a big source of comfort for her when mourning Jason, and she was able to remind herself that there was someone out there who shared her pain.

Jason: a silver bracelet Thalia gave him with a lightning bolt charm. It's the only jewelry he wears and he always has it with him, even when he dies.

Hazel: a small keychain from Frank. It's a little bear holding a plastic gemstone heart. She always brings it with her on quests and outings, making sure never to lose it.

Frank: a purple and gold friendship bracelet Hazel made him when he became praetor. He always treasured it because it made him feel like he'd made someone proud, despite the fact he'd already made so many people proud.

Reyna: her praetor's cloak. She didn't think she'd form an attachment to it, but she really liked the fabric and it made her feel important and safe. After she gave it up, Thalia noticed her seeming sad without it and got her a new one, but silver and gold embroidered with the symbol of Bellona.

Will: a pressed flower from Nico. Nico started picking flowers to press when he was unhappy as a way to learn how to keep his powers under control when his emotions are strong. He gave Will the first one and Will was so honoured he decided to carry it everywhere with him.

Apollo/Lester: a new ukulele Will got him after he lost his old one. Like Percy, he doesn't usually have it, but playing it always calms him down and reminds him of the people he loves.

Meg: a chip of a terracotta pot from her childhood home (I forget what it's called). She found it before she and her dad left and decided to keep it as a keepsake.

Lavinia: her star of David pendant, canonically, but I'd imagine she also has a music box with a little ballerina that reminds her of childhood and makes her feel safe.

Feel free to add on with any characters I missed :)

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #pjo #trials of apollo #solangelo #toa #annabeth chase #grover underwood #thalia grace #rachel elizabeth dare #leo valdez #piper mclean #jason grace #reyna ramirez arellano #hazel levesque #frank zhang #will solace #lester papadopoulos #apollo #meg mccaffrey #lavinia asimov #pjo headcanon #hoo headcanon #toa headcanon #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson headcanon #annabeth chase headcanon #headcanon #theyre all autistic you cant change my mind