#now to go to bed LMAOOOOO

[nebulations]

Edit: OP kindly added this to the og post in alt, so please go reblog from them instead!!

[ID: An Omniscient Reader's viewpoint comic about Jung Heewon talking about her relationship with Kim Dokja, addressed to Dokja in the past tense. The full ID is below the cut in 17 paragraphs. The abbreviated ID is as follows: Heewon reflects on how she admired Dokja for being brave, despite his worrying recklessness, and goes over the ways she loves him.

She laments his recklessness and how Dokja doesn't know how to save people without sacrificing himself, but she affirms that she'll save him herself. Then they encounter the Oldest Dream, and she desperately has to hold Dokja back. Heewon goes over how she hates Dokja for pulling away from their help, and herself for not being enough to help him and for knowing she'll forgive him when he wakes up. She once again says that she loves Dokja, but before she can say that she'll be fine, the comic ends on her sobbing at Dokja's bedside. End abbreviated ID]

[Begin full ID: Jung Heewon is shown looking at Kim Dokja, who's looking at system screens. She narrates, "Did you know, Dokja-ssi? That I always thought you were a pretty cool leader?" They're shown in an early scenario, both holding swords as Dokja, wearing a mat, throws out a hand. "It always felt like you knew how to do everything. Like you were truly in your element."

Dokja sweeps his sword in an arc of flame, and Heewon watches with shock and awe. "Doing such reckless things like that, you save people in such a way that worries me. But it was still such a sight." She pinches him hard on the cheek as she complains, "I found myself loving how brave yet stupid you were." Heewon smiles over at Dokja, who sweats while trying to placate an arguing Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung. "I loved how you didn't quite know how to hold them. But you still gave them a home."

Heewon is shown approaching Dokja, who sits cross-legged, looking at his phone with system screens floating around him. He smiles up at her with visible bags under his eyes, and she smiles at him before standing beside him as he continues looking over the screens. "I loved how you seemed to know all the answers, but your eyes still got tired. It felt like you were close enough to understand."

Heewon smiles gently. "I loved how / you burned like the / brightest star." Then she's shown reaching out desperately, bloodied and crying as chains wrap around her arm. Shouts of "Kim Dokja" fill the background as Dokja, Demon King form activated, stands atop a clock tower with a giant eye behind him. Heewon says, "But now-- Now I--"

They're shown walking together, Dokja grinning as Heewon laughs and elbows him. A close-up shows Heewon smiling happily. "I'd just love if you were safe and sound, slacking off at home / instead of saving this fucking god-forsaken world." She, Yoo Joonghyuk, and Han Sooyoung are shown moving through a void towards an eight-pointed star. "Doing such reckless--" A view of Heewon, who is now white-haired, sitting beside Dokja's hospital bedside. "Reckless things like that."

Next, Heewon is shown looking with shocked, shiny eyes at system messages popping up beside her as she stands with scales above her and her sword drawn. She says, "Oh, you-- you--" The message is shown: "[Constellation, 'Demon King of Salvation', is agreeing with the judgement.]" She narrates, "You didn't know how else to save people. Did you?"

Heewon looks sorrowfully at Dokja, who stands with his back to her. He has two sets of wings and a halo. "It's okay. I'll save you. If you don't know how, I can teach you."

A full page shows Heewon in Judge form, winged with flames emanating from her sword, scales and a halo above her head. She repeats, "I'll save you. I'll save you. I'll save you."

Kimcom is shown moving forward, and Heewon freezes, her eyes reflecting the Oldest Dream reading. She says, "I'll--" and the view moves to the Oldest Dream looking up with surprise before showing a cropped view of a stunned Heewon watching Dokja move in front of her. Feathers fall, and Heewon looks horrified as Dokja's sword moves.

Heewon desperately shouts while holds back Dokja, who holds his broken and bloodied sword to his throat. She narrates, "I hate how you don't quite know how to let us hold you. I hate how I was experiencing the cliché of seeing a savior fail to be saved himself."

Dokja's hair obscures his eyes as he shouts, still holding the blade while crying. They're shown from the back as Heewon continues to restrain him while he struggles. "I hate how / I can't see your eyes anymore."

Dokja is shown smiling and reading on his phone while sitting on a scale. "I hate myself for not being strong enough for you." The view moves out to show Heewon sitting before a small scale, her mouth upset. The scale weighs the Earth on one side, but Dokja's side is weighted much more heavily. "I hate myself for being so dependent on you."

Dokja is shown in a hospital bed with a respirator on. Heewon stands beside him, face almost entirely obscured. "I hate that when you wake up / I'll probably forgive you." In composition which evokes the first page, we see a white-haired Heewon speak to Dokja, who faces away. "Did you know, Dokja-ssi? That I loved you?

"Not like how I love them--" A shot of Yoosung, Gilyoung, and Lee Jihye-- "Or them--" A shot of Sooyoung, Yoo Sangah, and Uriel-- "Or him." A shot of Lee Hyunsung.

Heewon stands amidst empty space, looking to the side with a slight smile. "I just do."

She leans on her sword and tilts her head back. "It's okay. I'm strong, so it's okay." She smiles more widely as black hatching starts to reach up from the bottom of the page. "I'm the strongest incarnation of your company. So I'll be--"

The final page begins on scribbly black lines trailing down through blank white that leads to a zoomed-out shot of Heewon kneeling at Dokja's bedside. Dokja's face is cut off as Heewon quietly sobs. End ID]

/ Orv novel main story + epilogue spoilers

"Did you know, Dokja-ssi?" - A Jung Heewon comic about platonic love

[demonir]

Thinking about Kim Kitsuragi for a bit and just how great of a character he is… like he is so deeply serious about his job and tries his best to steer Harry (and by extension the player) towards the right path to continue the investigation and at first you might think he’s a cold, detached and maybe even a stuck up workaholic jerk but the truth is so SO far from that!!!! Kim is not above swearing, saying deranged shit, going along with Harry’s lies and to some level illegal activities as well, and is just overall funny both intentionally and unintentionally.

He complements Harry not just by being his thematic opposite but by also being willing to go along with him if the situation calls for it and sometimes… just because he can.

His ability to adapt to nearly every situation is unmatched as well and written in a way that doesn’t feel cheap or an excuse to have things happen that his character would otherwise not want, he tries to steer the situation back on track in a way that benefits them while still remaining true to his character even if Harry just did some deranged shit in front of 20 people.

Kim’s writing is fantastic and it shows how they clearly cared about making the character you’d see the most throughout the game compelling and fun while still being serious and “the voice of reason” to the player

[mercuryislove]

so i've been Not Drinking since december 12th (i will admit i've had a shower beer here and there) but tonight i had a hashtag Real Drink for the first time in four months and let me tell you. it's not even fun to drink anymore. am i maturing? maybe i just like to be sober and miserable instead of drunk and miserable

[tieflingbi]

Here's a face we haven't seen on this blog in forever!! Ellyn my baby!!! 😭💖

[whateveriwant]

Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Desperation✨

I’M NOT DONE YET >:)

Maybe I should go on vacation more often, gets the creative juices flowing, I hope y’all like a little bit of sub!Lucifer 😏

(No set up to this one either, this is just gonna be smut right out of the gate lmaooooo)

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: A more than willing Lucifer is ready to submit to your every whim…

Warnings: 18+, smut, sub!lucifer, light dom!reader, teasing, pet names, orgasm denial, edging, hand job, oral (m & f receiving), p in v

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. Well…that’s not entirely true. But you never thought that you would ever be in the situation you found yourself in. Not that you were upset at all by it. Lucifer, the almighty ruler of Hell itself, was bound and blindfolded in your bed wearing nothing more than his briefs. His hands were restrained to the bed post with tightly knotted rope while a silk ribbon obstructed his vision, leaving him absolutely helpless. Of course, you both knew he could more than easily break free from his bondage, but he wasn’t going to. He trusted you with his entire being, his devotion to you was undying. He was now yours to tease, to use, and to break. The thought excited both of you. You had already stripped naked, wasting no time as you closed in on your prey.

“Are you ready, Luci?” you asked, inching yourself closer to the foot of the bed.

“Yes, darling,” he answered sweetly, “do with me what you please.”

“Good boy,” you hummed. You heard a light moan escape his lips from just your words. He loved nothing more than receiving praise from you. You began by resting your hands on his ankles, ever so slowly moving them up to his calves, and stopping to massage the inside of his thighs. It was already apparent that he was having a difficult time sitting still, he was very sensitive after all. Your touch was intoxicating, he could never be satisfied. And the blindfold certainly amplified the experience. You finally moved your hands up his briefs and onto his hips, where he finally bucked up from your touch.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you chastised, “don’t move, baby. Be good for me.”

“Y-yes, love,” he murmured.

“Already so needy, aren’t we?,” you teased, noticing the very obvious wet spot on his shorts. “We’ve barely started.” You palmed his erection, eliciting a yelp from Lucifer. You began to slowly stroke him through his clothing, you felt his cock twitch at your gentle touch.

“Pl-Please, I-mmhn, please m-more,” he babbled. The sounds of his begging were pure ecstasy. What a feeling to have power over the most powerful being in the realm. You chuckled, reaching for the hem of his briefs, finally releasing his hardened cock. His tip leaked precum onto his stomach, Lucifer whimpered softly.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” you coerced, “tell me what you want.”

You heard an audible gulp from Lucifer. Even with the blindfold, you could tell that his cheeks had flushed a bright red. “T-Touch me, pl-please…need to f-feel you,” he choked out.

You smiled as you reached out to grab the base of his cock, forcing another moan out of Lucifer. You started to stroke his shaft up and down at an agonizingly slow pace, precum leaking onto your hand. It felt like he could burst at any second, but you planned on making this last as long as possible. You could already feel yourself getting wet from the sight of him writhing under your touch. Lucifer’s breathing became heavy as though he couldn’t get enough oxygen in his lungs. Unfortunately, he bucked up his hips to your touch again. You let go of him completely, Lucifer nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.

“What did I say, Luci?,” you scolded.

“Imsorryimsorry!!,” Lucifer cried, “Please! Please, I’ll be good. Please don’t stop…”

“You need to learn some patience, baby,” you retorted, kneeling down and taking a long lick from the base of his shaft to the head. Lucifer’s moans had turned into breathy gasps for air. Without warning, you plunged your mouth down on his cock.

“FFFUUUUCCCKKKK!,” Lucifer yelled as you continued to bob your head up and down on his length. He was well endowed, so you were careful not to take too much of him all at once. Your hot mouth engulfed half of him while your hand stroked the rest, perfectly in sync. You circled your tongue around his tip, loving the taste of his precum. The only sounds from Lucifer were screams of pleasure as you overstimulated him with your mouth.

“Talk to me, sweetie,” you said sternly, “how does this make you feel?”

“S-so good, love,” he panted, “ffffuuucckk, I’m so c-close, soooo close…”

“Mmm, what a good boy you are, Luci,” you smiled. You moved your hand and mouth away from his cock in an instant, leaving it to lay on his stomach once again. Lucifer’s breath hitched as he whined inconsolably, completely devastated by the loss of any friction. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

You crawled up onto the bed and hovered over Lucifer. You could see the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his breath was warm on your face. You leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He tried to deepen your kiss but you pulled away just out of reach.

“Don’t be greedy now, darling,” you murmured into his ear, sending shivers throughout his whole body. You kissed the edge of his mouth, then his cheek, then moved down and stopped at his throat. As you started to nip and suck at his sensitive skin, you could feel his rapid pulse while you marked him. You looked up to admire your work, a beautiful purple bruise that he can show off to the rest of Hell. “I want you to show me how desperate you are for me. Can you do that, love?,” you cooed.

“Y-yes,” Lucifer whimpered, “yes, anything!”

You hummed in approval. You continued to crawl on top of him until your pussy was place right above his face. Despite being blindfolded, Lucifer knew exactly what was happening. It took every fiber of his being to keep himself restrained because he would devour you in an instant. He whimpered beneath you waiting for your command.

“Eat up, pretty boy,” you chuckled, lowering yourself closer to his more than willing mouth. You felt his tongue hit your slick folds immediately, causing you to gasp. He easily found your clit and focused all of his attention on it. You tried your best not to move too much and risk removing his blindfold, but it was easier said than done. You couldn’t help but grind against him as he lapped up your dripping cunt. You held on to the headboard in front of you, trying and failing to keep your composure. You felt the knot inside your stomach tighten more and more with each flick of his tongue. You had to pull away now before he could finish you off. In one swift motion, you pulled yourself off of Lucifer’s face and moved to sit on his chest, letting yourself catch your breath.

“NO!,” Lucifer cried, “you’re so cruel…”

“Now, now, is that anyway to speak to me?”, you teased. Before he could respond, you slid yourself down further and began to grind your cunt on his throbbing erection. Lucifer’s strangled moans filled the empty room, you could listen to him like that forever.

“Tell me what you want, Lucifer,” you barked, refusing to slow your hips as you rocked back and forth on his cock.

“F-Fuck…fuck me…p-please,” he moaned. You moved your hips faster, causing Lucifer to scream. Tears started to leak through the blindfold and fall down his face.

“I know you can do better than that, pretty boy,” you laughed coldly. “I’ll ask again, what do you want?”

“FUCK ME, P-PLEASE FUCK ME, RIDE MY COCK, PLEASE LOVE, I-I NEED TO BE IN YOU NOW, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEFUCKMENOW!,” Lucifer cried out in agony.

“That’s what I hoped you’d say, my sweet boy” you praised. His words went straight to your aching cunt, you couldn’t wait any longer. You lined up his cock with your entrance and sank down on him, sheathing him inside of you completely. You both moaned in tandem at the sensation. Before long, you started bouncing on his cock at a steady pace at first. But only moments passed before your hips started to shift rapidly, chasing the orgasm you denied Lucifer earlier.

“Wanna-wanna see you,” Lucifer pleaded weakly, “please, p-please let me see you, love…” He sounded so broken and sweet, you couldn’t say no to him. He did so well for you, after all. You took pity on him and removed the blindfold from his face. You looked into his eyes, they were puffy from the tears he’d shed earlier. But they seemed to glow brighter once he saw you, completely drunk on his cock. ���So beautiful…”, he whispered.

“Luci…,” you moaned, “feels so good, shhhiiiitt…”

“Love, s-so close, I-I can’t…,” Lucifer choked out, screwing his eyes shut. He couldn’t breathe properly anymore, he just wanted to feel you come undone.

“Look at me,” you commanded, “look at m-me when you cum. Be…Be a good boy and cum for me!” Lucifer opened his eyes, his face had turned beet red from your praise.

“I-I’m gonna…fuckfuckFUCKIMCUMMING,” he screamed, thrusting up into you only a few more times before his orgasm hit him hard, spilling his cum into your waiting pussy. Just a second later the tight knot in your stomach unraveled and you felt the waves of pleasure throughout your body, your newly painted white walls clenching around Lucifer’s cock.

Your body gave out and you collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. Lucifer snapped his fingers and the rope that had restrained him was gone. He helped you off him and laid you next to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He kissed the top of your head and pushed the hair away from your face.

“That…that was so good, my angel,” Lucifer smiled. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You laughed lightly, looking up from his chest. “Yes, I enjoyed that a lot, Lucifer, thank you. I…I wasn’t too harsh, was I? I might have teased you too much, I-” You were cut off by Lucifer’s lips, now completely forgetting what you were going to say.

“You were perfect, darling,” he reassured you. “I loved it! And I love you. We’ll certainly be doing that again.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest.

“I put you through a lot tonight,” you said, “let me run you a bath. And then we can cuddle afterwards. Sound good?”

“Only if you join me, my dear,” Lucifer bargained. You could only smile and nod, how could you say no?

~~~~

Happy Valentine’s Day ya filthy animals!! 💖💖💖

[sunarc]

there reaction when they walked in Y/N humping there pillow and yn gets all embarrassed. love degrading shit sm

add Suna. Sakusa and Kuroo or else 🧍🏻‍♀️

I felt like I was being held at gunpoint to make this without a gun LMAOOOOO but i hope you enjoy love. this sparked something in me idk i haven't written for haikyuu in a minute felt good lol

Suna

۵Suna finds it funny that you think you can get yourself off without him.

۵He’ll watch as you whimper and whine, rocking your hips desperately against a pillow for a little, only because the sight is just so pretty to him.

۵When he finally announces his presence, he will tease you so much, telling you how you’re so filthy, getting yourself off like this. His words are so lewd, and the look in his eyes exhibits pure lust.

۵Since you enjoy riding so much, he’ll make you ride his cock until you’re begging him to take control.

“Come one doll, ride my cock, how you were riding that pillow,” His teasing voice fills your ears. 

You feel like your legs are going to fall off with how long he has had you riding him. His hand sits on your hips, lazily rocking your hips back and forth. He has an almost bored look on his face as he’s watching you whimper about how you need him. 

“You need me?” He says it incredulously. “If you needed me so badly, why were you fucking that pillow like a pathetic little slut?” 

Suna can’t even believe the jealousy running through his veins at the moment. Jealous of a pillow? How could you possibly think anything in the world could please you more than him?

"No, Rin, it's not-” Your words are cut off by a choked-out moan when Suna bucks his hips upward into you. 

This is your punishment. You want to find pleasure in something that isn't him? Then you’ll have to work for your orgasm. 

"Aww, baby, I know you can do better than that.” His taunting fueled you.

You bounced and rocked your hips on him faster, desperate to please him. You craved his praise, something he rarely gave you in bed, so hearing it would feel like everything. 

Suna’s eyes stared at you, filled with pure lust. You almost felt shy under his dark gaze. 

“You want me to help you cum?” His silky words filled your ears. 

You nodded your head eagerly.

“Yes, please, yes. I need you, Rin,” you begged.

“Then show me how fucking bad you want it.”

Sakusa

۵He would be fucking fuming when he sees you riding a pillow. How dare you try to touch yourself when he’s not around? 

۵He can’t understand how you could possibly find pleasure in fucking a pillow when his cock is always yours for the taking.

۵You look so needy and desperate calling his name. Don’t stop just because he’s here; give him a show while you're at it.

۵He will get nice and comfortable making eye contact as you nervously ride the pillow, saying the most degrading, nasty things.

“Don’t get shy with me now. You were just whining my name. Tell me how good it feels, baby.”

You were rocking back and forth on a pillow, trying to keep eye contact with him. You let out small whimpers as he stared at you with a deadpan look, giving you demands. You let out a short whine as you turned away, feeling embarrassment flood through you. 

"Omi, please,” you whimpered. You needed his touch. He had been watching you fail to make yourself cum with a menacing smirk. 

“What did I say? Keep those eyes on me,” he groaned. 

His hand was stroking his cock slowly as he stared at you. Your eyes watched his movements, wishing it could be you touching him. Just the thought of his cock stretching you out had your cunt drooling so much on the pillow below.

“Now tell me, how good does it feel? Better than my cock?” He questioned you with a head tilt.

“N-no of course not.” you whimpered “Nothing's better than you.” You whine. 

Your desire for him only grows more and more as the seconds pass. You're practically trembling at the thought of having him. 

“Really? Then why were you fucking yourself like a slut on my pillow? Nothing’s better than me, though, right?” His voice is laced with anger.

You let out a loud cry of his name “I’m sorry. Please, can I have you? It won’t happen again, I promise." Your pleas were like music to his ears. He groaned, stroking himself at a faster pace.

“If you can make yourself cum within,” he said, looking at his watch. "Hmm, I’m thinking the next 5 minutes, then I fuck you way better than this flimsy pillow ever could.”

Kuroo

۵The excitement that runs through this man when he sees you is almost terrifying.

۵He has this menacing grin watching you hump a pillow, desperately calling his name.

۵Kuroo has rules, and his number one rule is: no touching yourself when he’s not around, so of course, he has to punish you for breaking his rule.

۵You wanted to cum, so as the perfect lover that he is, he is more than willing to help you cum since you want it so bad. He can’t help but laugh at the way you’re crying, saying it’s too much, he’s only trying to help you.

Kuroo’s hips slammed into yours, pressing himself so deep into you that you could only roll your eyes back and moan slurred versions of his name. He cooed at your desperate calls for his name while your tongue lulled out, mindlessly drooling on yourself.

“Such a fucking needy thing, aren’t you?” He laughed softly as he plunged himself into you. 

He dragged his cock in and out of you at a quickened pace, groaning loudly at the way you helplessly laid face first into the bed as he held you from behind with a tight grip around your waist. 

“I can’t believe you’re in here fucking some pillow when I can make you feel so much better,” he let out a breathy groan. 

Adrenalin was rushing through him as he fucked you through your fourth orgasm. You were trembling so much that you were barely able to hold yourself up. You felt weak, but with the way Kuroo’s hips continued ramming into you mercilessly, you knew there was no stopping him anytime soon. 

“‘ 't's t-too much,” your whines filled the room, sounding like music to his ears. 

“It's too much?” he asked with a teasing tone. “But, you were just fucking this pillow whining about how you wanted to cum, I’m only giving my baby what they so desperately wanted.”

There’s anger laced in his voice. He can’t believe you dared to think you could touch yourself without any consequences. His hand moved to wrap around your neck while his thrust continued its brutal pace. 

“Just let me help you, baby. I promise I'll make you think twice before touching yourself when I'm not around”

[auroreliis]

Pfff-imagine Bruce overhears the sibs threatening to not let batsib do the things he’s forbid them from doing if they keep tattling and Bruce just goes, you can do those things if you keep tattling, now there’s nothing stopping batsib

Lmaooooo

He's choosing to become your best friend instead of letting your siblings become your best friends. What would this result in?

Well for starters, you and Bruce would be very close. You'd likely go to fancy restaurants together and go outside very often, just the two of you, none of your siblings are there to bother you (or him lol).

"Good morning, angel. Are you feeling well? I rented an amusement park, since I heard you talking about it yesterday, so I wanted to know if you had enough energy to go there with me today after breakfast. Hm? Oh, yes. We can stay the whole day."

"You think Titus is cute? Well, in that case, do you want to go walk him with me? He is very well trained. I don't even need a leash for him. You should see for yourself."

"Now that we've had dinner...do you remember the film trailer you were talking about recently? Well, I recieved the film early. Do you want to watch it with me? Yes, it'll be just you and me, the others are going to be busy on patrol."

Your relationship with the others would deteriorate. They would be more harsh and probably even more annoying. However, since you're Bruce's perfect angel, he will let you get away with everything. Don't want Jason to keep bothering you? Bruce will tell him off. Dick wants to sleep in your bed? No worries, just sleep in Bruce's. Stephanie doesn't let you play video games unless you play with her? No worries, Bruce ordered you a new console and lots of new games.

"What? Dick is annoying you again? Fine, I'll tell him to tone it down."

"Damian is being too harsh? I'll let him know."

"You think Cassandra should stop sneaking up on you? Yes, I agree. She will be informed."

He doesn't want you to hate them, but little does he know that you do hate them and are using him to get them to stop. Being close to you makes him proud and happy, but he still thinks that you should interract with your siblings, so he might organise certain bonding activities. However, if you had talked to him and told him how the others made you feel bad or uncomfortable, he would keep an eye on them and would break the bonding activities off at that instant.

He's just trying to be a good father, okay? Don't be too harsh on him <3

[blue-jisungs]

fighting with them ♡

author's note. my very poor attempt on angst written in june 2023 LMAOOOOO enjoy!! (do not ask me why am i posting it now, i dont know either.)

making up after a fight - here !

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

chan couldn’t put a finger on it but there was something going on with you lately. from all of the people in the world he knew the best how life can get overwhelming sometimes. you were there for him during his hardships of being an idol… and a human being, in general.

and clearly, you were going through something too. but you didn’t say a word and even seemed to avoid him.

you arrived home late at night on one friday, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. chris is probably… working. so you you can easily sneak into your bedroom without him noticing you, right?

“y/n”

you turned around and saw him in the hallway, hair messed up and glass of water in his hand. his face lit up upon seeing you, however you could sense the weird tone of his voice.

“hi chris. i’ll go to sleep” you mumbled, taking off your shoes

“wait, can we talk? i know it’s late but i feel like nowadays we’re roommates, not a couple” he said. here it is. you let out another sigh

“i had a lot on my head today, can we not?” you grunted, leaving your bag on the floor.

“that’s the thing, y/n. there’s something going on and you just won’t tell me. and when we’re gonna talk when not now? you avoid me, let’s face it” chris continued, voicing out his worries. you knew.

“i’m sorry, okay? it’s just… i don’t want to talk right now and…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, earning a scoff from chan.

“you never want to talk, apparently. relationships are build on trust and communication. and i get the feeling you don’t trust me at all” his voice got a little louder but not to the range of shouting.

“listen, i–“ you started, genuine exhaustion feeling your body. you were afraid to snap and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. especially right now, especially at chris. but if it continues–

“i’m tired of your excuses, y/n! let me help you, talk to me, anything–“ chris pleaded and before you realised, it happened.

“can you shut the fuck up? i told you i’m tired! we’ll talk once you stop interrupting me for god’s sake!”

the realisation sank in as you watched chan’s features change with pain. his jaw tensed, eyes becoming cold.

“sure… i’m sorry. good night” he huffed, his steps leading him back to his studio.

your eyes watered, heart shattering into millions of pieces. you fucked up.

changing into your pyjamas you fell asleep on the couch, feeling like a burden in your own bed. your and chris’. and above all, you felt strange and empty, trying (and failing miserably) to fall asleep without him by your side.

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you approached lino quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he jolted a bit by your sudden appearance, the wooden spoon falling out of his hand.

“oh, sorry baby. how are you today?” you hummed when minho with a grumpy face grabbed the spoon.

“you’re so fucking clingy sometimes…” he grunted, causing your eyes to widen “get off me”

the coldness of his voice made you a bit scared, backing away. minho continued with his cooking task.

“like a literal baby, i swear. let me breathe for once, is this too much to ask for?” he snapped, not even looking at you.

you understood, of course you did. when you started dating minho he wasn’t too big on skinship but… he never spoke like that to you in general or about this.

“okay. i’m sorry” you mumbled, trying not to show how hurt you got by his words “i’ll be in the bedroom”

he didn’t even say anything. you held your tears and walked away, only letting them go once you were buried in your duvet.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you let out a deep sigh, massaging your temples. changbin was looking at you with straight face, the tense silence between you two constantly interrupted by your group chat exploding with notifications.

“y/n, for the millionth time. they don’t deserve you, they literally treat you like shit” he grunted, glancing at your phone and reading the last message “'y/nnie we’re sorry, the date just slipped my mind', are you kidding me? what kind of an excuse is that?”

the thing was that your friends stood you up, again. lately they do that all the time but you know that they’re busy, just like you.

“a normal one! do i have to remind you the times you forgot about our dates? or i did? we’re humans, we forget things. and they’re my friends, they wouldn’t stand me up! we already rescheduled for tomorrow” you hissed “stop talking shit about my friends!”

“i’m not!” changbin whined “it just pisses me off because they meet up without you! don’t tell me you don’t know that!”

“i don’t because they don’t do that! stop accusing them!” you yelled, surprised by yourself. changbin sighed, his tongue poking the side of his cheek

“fine. just don’t run crying to me when you get stood up again, probably tomorrow” he huffed, crossing his arms

“i won’t!” you grunted, grabbing your phone and walking away to your bedroom.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

your boyfriend came home, a loud slam of his bag hitting the floor lighting a red lamp in your head. there was no usual, cheerful “hi baby!” or “i’m home!” coming from him.

hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, ignoring you, and poured himself some water.

“hi hyune” you hummed, approaching him. he mumbled something incoherent back, eyes everywhere but on you. you sighed quietly, shaking your head “how was your day?”

“awful, i’m exhausted” he grunted, poking his cheek with his tongue

“i’m sorry to hear that… here’s some food, i grabbed it from work. let me just finish heating it up” you hummed, smiling softly “and later if you want we can watch a movie?”

“just… i need some time alone. i’m tired, y/n. i know you wouldn’t get it because i’m an idol, i dance and work for the whole day but i just need to rest, okay?” hyunjin grunted, making you halt.

“what do you mean i wouldn’t get it?” you frowned, turning your gaze at him

“you’re… well, you’re not an idol. can i just-?” he spat out, running out of patience.

“oh, so i can’t feel exhausted? i know that working as a cleaning lady is not as mighty as being an idol, but it’s tiring as well” you said slowly, trying not to lose your temper.

“yeah, sure” he scoffed.

your eyes widened, genuine hurt breaking your heart.

“i’ll eat it later, don’t mind heating it up” he grunted and before he waddled away to the bedroom, he heard your murmurs.

“it’s for me… and you don’t mind talking to a filthy cleaning lady later…”

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

han was watching you for the past fifteen minutes, tongue poking the side of his cheek. you seemed to have fun while chatting with the other guy. way too much fun.

he just let out a sigh and took a sip of his drink. he hated it. he hated that he had to go to this party, that someone spilled a drink over him, that the food sucked and that you… you were ignoring him.

you let out a laugh and shook your head. the guy who you were talking to, beomgyu, patted your head with a grin.

suddenly you felt a hand on your arm, squeezing it. you turned around and saw jisung and his… tensed jaw.

“oh ji! i was wondering where you were! this is beomgyu, jeongin’s friend…” you smiled and beomgyu greeted your boyfriend with a happy smile

“we need to talk” han just grunted and walked away. you shrugged and beomgyu sent you a questioning look.

following jisung outside, where the weather wasn’t too pleasant, you rubbed your arms and enjoyed the silence.

“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head.

“are you seriously asking me 'what’s up?'… y/n… you’ve been having the time of your life with that guy” he hissed, crossing his arms.

“beomgyu? what do you mean? we were just talking, that’s all” you scoffed, not fully understanding what he meant.

“please, y/n. you two were flirting! it’s unbelievable” he snarled, his voice raising dangerously.

“jisung, you know i only love you. i was just talking with him because he–“ you started

“cut the bullshit. it’s good to know you had fun at the party but i’m going home. have fun flirting with him” he bursted out, walking away

“jisung, what the fuck?!” you called but he didn’t stop “what do you want me to say? i… i seriously! you can ask him! i wasn’t saying anything–“

entering the room again filled his ears with music, jisung didn’t catch the way your voice broke down. legs leading him towards the exit, he noticed beomgyu watching him shocked.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

you drummed your fingers on the table nervously, giving the waiter an apologetic look. he walked up to you, sighing.

“i’m sorry ma’am but if you’re not planning on ordering something i’ll have to ask you to leave…” he said. you nodded, grabbing your purse

“i understand” you said and paid for the two glasses of water you ordered earlier.

“i’m sorry” the waiter mumbled, causing blood to flow to your cheeks. you shook your head and left, dialling your boyfriend’s number for the seventh time this night.

“–yeah, i know, right?! what’s up, y/n?” felix answered, the voices in the background becoming quieter.

“where are you?” you asked bluntly, crossing your arms

“i’m at changbin’s, why?” he asked confused

“why? well maybe because i was waiting for you like an idiot for the past two hours? why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier?” you spat out, voice starting to shake

“what are you talking about?” felix grunted

“our date, felix! like the third one you missed because allegedly you were busy? are you doing this on purpose or what?” you huffed, sitting down on a nearby bench.

“i was busy, y/n! i admit, today i forgot but we made plans with guys earlier and i just…” he trailed off.

“you just forgot. again. i don’t have any more patience or strength for that, felix. don’t you see that? you’re prioritising work over me” your voice broke, nails digging into your knees “if it keeps happening–“

“y/n… don’t say that! you know i’m busy, i’m an idol! what did you expect?” felix scoffed.

“i expected my boyfriend to be present in my life, you know? i understand that you’re an idol, i respect that and i support it… i just wish you were there for me, felix. do you even know i got fired yesterday?” you asked and were met with silence “exactly. now… have fun at changbin’s, say hi to the boys. i’m not coming back tonight”

with that you hung up, chest thumping in your chest. well, you’re going to have a sleepover at your best friend’s… again.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

you hummed happily, just getting off the phone with your mom. entering the kitchen you noticed seungmin with his glasses atop of his nose, reading something.

“hey, seungmo! do you have any plans on weekend?” you asked. he shook his head as a no “great! my parents are visiting, then”

he groaned, making you frown.

“what?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“again?” he finally looked up at you, fixing his glasses.

“what do you mean again? they visited us like, month ago!” you shook your head

“it’s just… tiring” he mumbled, playing with the hem of the paper he was reading

“tiring? they’re my parents, seungmin. and it’s hard for them too. they’re still getting used to living in korea, i know how that felt and besides, you should get used to it” you huffed

“okay, so? can’t you just go on your own? i wanted to practice, i could use some time alone” seungmin grunted. you bit your lip, looking down. did he just… did not like your parents? you couldn’t lie, it hurt you.

“fine. have fun then because i guess i’ll leave earlier, since you could use some time alone” you murmured

“are you angry at me?” he asked, some kind of mockery in his voice

“yeah, i am! do you not like them? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the question made him scoff

“i just don’t feel like going, geez! just go, you’re being annoying today…” he grunted, reassuming his previous task.

you mumbled a soft oh and left your place right away, not bothering to pack. your parents have some clothes of yours at their place either way.

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

you watched jeongin text someone with a huge grin on his face, fingers quickly tapping against the screen of his phone. letting out a deep sigh, you reassumed watching the show.

“wait, why’d you start?” he asked suddenly, putting his phone away

“i asked you like, five times if i can start already” you grunted, not looking at him

“sorry, i was…” he hummed, hesitant “…texting someone”

“who was it?” you asked, not really caring about the weight of the question…

“no one important” he huffed. now, his answer made you confused. anxiety slowly creeping into your heart, you looked at him

“why’d you answer like that? i’m sure that person wouldn’t be too happy to hear that” you joked lightly. jeongin just shrugged, letting out an annoyed sigh. there was a sound of door opening somewhere in the dorm.

“can we just watch?” he asked coldly.

you fell quiet, mind racing with thoughts. if you think about it, you caught him texting and smiling like a teenage girl a couple of times this week. and he always quickly turned off his phone once you were near him. what was it?

“oh, hi you two!” you heard changbin’s voice. you turned around to wave at him and he waved back, then turning your eyes again at the screen “oi, jeongin-ah, did eunjeong text you back?”

your eyes widened upon hearing the name. eunjeong. jeongin’s ex.

you looked at him, his face immediately dropping. you sent a death glare to changbin that only now realised what he said. but that meant… he knew.

“you’re texting her? your ex?” you asked, crossing your arms. jeongin sighed, trying his best not to roll his eyes.

“and what if i am, geez! it’s not that serious, y/n” he grunted, looking at you.

“for me it is, jeongin. you know i have trust issues… and i don’t trust her, especially! besides, you told me you blocked her…?” you asked, heart racing abnormally fast.

“i lied, okay? because you’re so sensitive about everything, just like now! yes, i’m texting eunjeong and honestly, i don’t regret it! she’s fun, okay? we broke up on a good terms” he grunted. you stood up, walking away “where are you going?!”

“i need to think” you hissed, passing changbin by

“that’s exactly what i was talking about… god, such a crybaby over nothing” jeongin murmured, grabbing his phone.

before he could open up a chat with eunjeong, he heard a loud door slam.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[magennta09]

Imagine catching caleb with his dick in his hand lmaooooo

"Looks real good on you, princess," He smiled (tightly) "Guess I have an eye for dresses, huh."

Now, apple boy caleb who was still at granny's house was real pent up after you acted all cute and pretty in that cute summer dress for dinner, the one who hugs your curves perfectly, the one he helped you pick when you two went thrifting last week. He battled with a big boner until you went to the garden to help out gran water her flowers. He jolted to his room, closed the blinds and went at it with vengeance. How dare he get hard at his cute little pipsqueak? You deserve so much more than a pervert like him... oh, but you looked so damn pretty...Teenage hormones weren't helping him.

He was sitting at the edge of his bed, his tank top pulled up with his teeth and his sweats and boxers hastily pulled down his powerful thighs. His hand was fisting roughly at his weepy shaft, feet curled up on the rug beneath them and his handsome face scrunched up so cutely in frustration.

Thinking about you.

In all sorts of scenarios.

You did things to him and you weren't even noticing. No girl at school, the girls you were so cutely jealous of, could get him this worked up.

He whined your name, muffled by the fabric in his mouth. A few minutes passed and he was red all over.

God fucking damn it, it wasn't going down!!!

Then he heard it, a gasp. He broke out of his haze, only to come back to reality that YOU were wide eyed by his slightly opened door. Your pretty eyes were on him...

Caleb let out a small groan as he came, his fist squeezing his shaft roughly, his back hunching over-

The next second the door was slammed shut with his evol, his mind in a jumble.

Shit...Damn. he forgot to lock the door. He thought you wouldn't come back- oh, he couldn't even see you coming back because he closed his blinds! And he came when he caught you watching!

...

He didn't boil in shame the normal amount any normal person would, (that made him stand out, future colonel and all). Because next day he'd be making you breakfast. Like nothing ever happened. And he made you feel like the only one awkward in here, like you didn't catch him jerking off last night.

And if you would try to bring it up (right in front of your chamomile tea and your apple jam sandwich) , he's brush it off.

"Look, sorry, pips, you caught me in a moment," He chuckled in his boyish way. The laugh that got him out of most shit. He scratched the back of his neck, in that charming, unguarding way of his "Let's not make it weird between us with this, please? Besides, you're not the only one who walked in on-"

"Don't, Caleb."

This little shit brought up the time he walked in on you, too. So, you were even, he guessed as the usual banter between the two of you settled again.

[daemour]

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

-

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

-

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

-

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

-

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

-

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

-

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

-

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

-

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

-

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

-

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

[tea-writes19]

hit single | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader

summary: when peter drags steve to a concert, he doesn’t expect to fall for the artist

warnings: popstar!reader, fluff, swearing, not infinity war and endgame compliant, basically they defeated thanos in wakanda, steve being an old man, famous!reader, comedy, suggestive content?, very very minor sambucky, like it’s not explicitly mentioned, but it’s implied

a/n: first steve fic!!! got inspired watching eras tour movie👀 also i really need to get onto those joaquin fics, but i’m just on a roll with the smau’s in my brain rn😩 anyways enjoy lovelies!!

peterparker added to their story —>

[caption: so readddyyyy!!!!]

story replies

nedleeds: sooo exciteddd!!!!

user1: omg you’re at y/n’s concert toooo???!!

user2: so jealous😫

liked by nedleeds, samwilson, mjjones, and others

peterparker: pov: captain america falling in love with y/n l/n

tagged: @/nedleeds @/mjjones @/steverogers @/yourusername

view comments below

user3: can’t believe i could’ve met STEVE ROGERS and Y/N tonight😩

nedleeds: best night ever!!!!!!

user4: y/n l/n supremacy🗣️

peterparker: hear hear!

user5: omg i was there too!!!

user6: same!!

user7: literally best night of my life

user8: frfr

mjjones: i think i lost my voice from screaming😩

samwilson: ngl kinda salty i didn’t get asked to be y’all’s chaperone😒

buckybarnes: i thought you said her music is overrated🧐

samwilson: i did not!

samwilson: i said her song ‘wildflower’ is overrated

samwilson: don’t put words in my mouth, cyborg!

user9: lmaooooo

user10: it’s okay, sam! i think wildflower’s overrated too…

yourusername: i’m sorry, WHO was at my WHAT now??!!

peterparker: oh my god

peterparker: i’m freaking out rn

peterparker: i can’t believe you saw this🫣😅

user11: omg omg omg, y/n commented!!!

user12: lowkey need her and cap to meet now…

liked by steverogers, peterparker, mjjones, and others

yourusername: nyc i love you🤍

ps captain rogers, i am single!

view comments below

user13: best night of my life!

user14: i need tickets rn…

user15: not her shooting her shot😭

user16: i love her

user17: she’s just like me fr

peterparker: @/steverogers cap cap cap!!!!!

samwilson: @/steverogers come on man!

user18: @/steverogers captain america please seeeeeeee🙏🙏

buckybarnes: @/steverogers goddamn it punk, look at your phone

steverogers: what?

steverogers: wait…

yourusername: heyyyyyyy👀

user19: 😭😭

user20: PLEASE COME TO IRELAND😩

user21: love the caption😭

user22: i’m dying at the comments😭😭

user23: y/n l/n x avengers collab when👀

user24: LITERALLY

user25: need this so bad

user26: the ao3 girls are working hard on the fics

user27: the steve rogers/y/n l/n tag already has 27 works in it😭

liked by samwilson, steverogers, peterparker, and others

yourusername: until next time nyc🫶🏻🏙️

view comments below

user28: PLEASE COME BACK!!!

user29: seeing y/n in the wild was insane!!!

user30: omg lucky😭

user31: who’s in the photo booth w/ you y/n?

user31: WHO’S IN THE FUCKING BOOTH Y/N???

user32: ^^^

user34: tell us y/n!

steverogers: i’ll have to show you brooklyn next time…

yourusername: yes please!

user35: HELLO?!?

user36: wait wait wait

user37: *sighs and opens ao3 again*

user38: lmaooo real

user39: ima bout to crash out if they don’t get together😤

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: tour shenanigans]

story replies

user40: boston n2 let’s go🥳🥳

user41: so can’t wait😩

user42: i’m so ready!!

user43: me when i don’t want to get out of bed to grab something core

user44 added to their story —>

[caption: steve rogers sighting at y/n’s show tn!!!]

story replies

user45: oh my god!!!

user46: holy shit holy shit holy—

user47: eeeeeeekkkk i’m so happy rn🥹🥹

user48: fav ship everrrrrrrrr

user49: that man is so in love😩

liked by steverogers, buckybarnes, peterparker, and others

yourusername: boston you are awesome!

view comments below

user50: omg is that cap!?

peterparker: can’t believe you played ‘daisy rain’ for boston but not nyc😒

yourusername: i’ll play it just for you another time✊😔

user51: love that she’s friends with peter now😭

user52: y/n out here collecting the avengers like infinity stones

user53: thanos is scared of her😔

user54: FOUL😭😭

user55: why’s my wife so talented😩

user56: hoe wdym? that’s my wife🤨

yourusername: calm down babes…i got two hands

steverogers: 🧐

user57: ahhhhhhhhhh

buckybarnes: i taught him how to use emojis!

samwilson: yeah…after I taught YOU how to use them😒

buckybarnes: semantics

samwilson: i hate you

buckybarnes: the feeling’s mutual

natasharomanoff: they’re literally cuddling on the couch rn…

user58: 😭😭

user59: i think i saw god tonight…

user60: alexa play ‘god is a woman’ by ariana grande

user61: ^^^

user62: not nearly enough people are freaking out over CAPTAIN AMERICA being in y/n’s post…

user63: FR they are so dating

user63: i’m calling it now

liked by yourusername, natasharomanoff, buckybarnes, and others

steverogers: brooklyn with my favorite girl🤍

tagged: @/yourusername

view comments below

user64: YOUR girl?!?

samwilson: i’m your favorite boy right?

buckybarnes: i’m right here…

user65: 😭😭

yourusername: sam might not be my favorite boy, but you certainly are🫶🏻

steverogers: you really couldn’t help yourself, huh?

yourusername: you know me so well☺️

user66: MOM HAS A NEW BF🥹

user67: literally so happy rn for her

user68: we got literal captain america as our stepdad🥹😭

user69: omg omg omg

user70: HIS FAVORITE GIRL EVERYBODY😩🥹

peterparker: and matchmaker of the year goes to…

mjjones: matchmakers*

nedleeds: ^^^

natasharomanoff: is your girl single?

steverogers: don’t even think about it nat

samwilson: am i at least your favorite black person?

samwilson: steve

samwilson: STEVE PLEASE

user71: i can’t-

user72: sam’s having an existential crisis over here😭

buckybarnes: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/howling_commandos/gabe_jones

liked by peterparker, steverogers, samwilson, and others

yourusername: happy🫶🏻☺️

tagged: @/steverogers

view comments below

user73: eeeeekkkk so happy rn

user74: mother when she mothers😩

steverogers: beyond happy with you🤍

yourusername: stop you’re making me blush🤭

samwilson: listen

samwilson: @/yourusername please tell me i’m your favorite black person

yourusername: you’re my favorite bird

samwilson: i’ll fucking take it

user75: SAM😭😭

user76: is this what a parasocial relationship feels like🥹

user77: so so so happy for you y/n!

user78: so ready for all the songs abt cap

user79: OMG YES

buckybarnes: they already have one: spotify

user80: OMG😭

user81: this comment section is a mess😭

peterparker: free tickets when?

yourusername: free spidey suit when?

peterparker: touche

© tea-writes19 do not repost, translate, or copy

[hannyhann]

Daryl Dixon Headcanons: Dad Addition

after rewatching daryl interacting and taking care of judith, it got me in such soft feels for him as a dad :(( so here are some headcanons of just that!

daryl would be so protective of his children and as he should be, he'd only let you, the group, and certain people around your children

hed find out you were pregnant after terminus, just after you arrived at alexandria, at first he wouldn't know what to say or think, he would need some time to collect his thoughts. but of course he'd come back to you with so much love for you and yalls baby

daryl would refuse to let you go on runs, especially when your pregnant or have the baby

he would always bring your children something back as a gift

daryl would never be cruel as a dad, he would be stern, but never like how his father was during his childhood

he would be such a girl dad

he would always reassure you're children that they are not a mistake for the world

daryl baby talking with your children (my heart yall)

maggie and glenn helping daryl with baby advice, meanwhile carol is yelling at daryl to teach him the proper way of how to dress a baby doll she found (he failed LMAOOOOO)

daryl wouldn't be the type to initiate affection, however if his children came and cuddled, hugged, or just wanted to be held, he wouldn't deny it for a second

daryl building you things to help with your children

daryl giving your children nick names and using them more than they're own names

daryl teaching them self defense and how to use a bow, knife, or gun by age six

he would save every flower, drawing, or anything your children would give him and cherish it

if your baby is crying and you get overwhelmed, daryl will reassure you it's okay, take the baby, and they'll immediately stop crying :((

daryl wouldnt get over the fact your children are splitting images of you!

daryl using the term "sweetheart", "honey pie" or "kiddo" for you and your children (yall stop this is so cute)

daryl would make sure you and your children eat before himself

when yall arrive in alexandria, daryl would go and scavenge for thing you love for the babies room, just to make sure your happy

daryl would have long talks with his kids

daryl would make SURE your children and judith are friends 😔👆

your children would look just like you but have daryls personality to a T

daryl would try to make life as normal as possible

on the topic of daryl being a girl dad, he would definitely learn how to do his daughters hair, to do it just how she'd like it (my heart is so WHOLE)

carol making a joke that daryl is technically a "dilf" now, and he'd just go "shut up."

daryl taking your children out on drives, finding old CDs or records and showing them the music he loves and grew up with <33

daryl and you would definitely wake up with your kids between you two, and of course dog at the end of the bed fast asleep

[bkgexe]

he ain't heavy (he's my—)

caleb (love and deepspace) x reader ✾ 8.3k

info! You and he used to be synonyms. Two words with the same definition. The question you both try and fail to answer: what are you now? ✾ tw! pseudocest. and im sorry. size difference mention multiple times. f!reader, referred to with gendered language ✾ notes! lordddddd they're so weird i need them to be together. this is really sappy and self-indulgent and the smut is like. ???? i don't even know. look mc's got a lot to think abt while getting railed. you can also read on ao3 instead with like proper grammar and stuff lmaooooo

you’ve always been like this with him. a little more childish, a little more petulant. it doesn’t matter that you’re older now, that you consider yourself a decently mature person when it comes to every other situation in your life. 

he hurt you, and you want to hurt him back.

maybe hurt is a small word for what he’s done. you missed him. you mourned him. you went back to the burnt husk of your childhood neighborhood for weeks after the explosion, looking for any trace of him that might’ve gone unnoticed. as if you would be able to discern his remnants because you knew him better than anybody else. like you could pick his ashes from the rest, set them aside and declare them clothing or muscle or tooth. 

the two of you were inseparable when you were younger. even when you got into different hobbies, made friends outside of each other, attended different academies after high school—it was unspoken that your home was with one another. you grew up, but not apart. long periods of time spent away from each other were difficult. you might have doubted that he felt the same if he didn’t constantly tell you how much he missed you, if he hadn’t been the one that called you every day, that asked if you were eating enough, that texted to make sure you were going to bed at a reasonable hour.

the more unfamiliar distance is, the sharper it becomes. you can’t see the blade of it at arm’s length. when caleb died, you became acquainted with distance so quickly that you couldn’t remember what it felt like when the knife wasn’t already between your ribs.

you’re sure he felt that too. your wounds mirror each other’s, as they often do. as they often did. but there’s no comparing temporary and permanent. antonyms. something you and caleb hadn’t been until now. it’s why you want him to hurt. it’s why you want to lash out like you used to when you were a child, mad because he went and played with his friends for too long, frustrated because his fingers would tangle in your hair and pull uncomfortably when he undid your braids. you’re doing that on purpose, you would accuse, and he would laugh and call you a crybaby. 

lashing out requires his presence. this is why you seek him out. even though he still doesn’t tell you everything—can’t, he reminds you whenever it’s brought up—you still visit him whenever he tells you he has time off, allow him into your home when he shows up uninvited. you pretend that you don’t know it’s not a coincidence when you run into him in both skyhaven and linkon, more often than not when you’re hanging out with male friends. you want him to be there because you can’t hurt him if he’s not around. maybe it’s unfair, but you’re allowed to act like this with him—he’s your big brother. was. tenses have been harder since he returned. you had only just gotten used to putting everything in the past. the present is different than it used to be. you’re adjusting at too slow a pace, already tired from the adjusting you had to do after his death.

but there’s something that’s been building between you that’s different. something like heat, something you’re not sure you should feel with a person you once considered as close as family. something you can’t look at closely, its details all primed to change things too dramatically, too quickly.

the point: you’ve known caleb your whole life. (you’ve also known zayne your whole life, an entirely unhelpful voice in your brain provides, and your grandma always joked about the two of you getting married.) that doesn’t matter. it’s inconsequential. he didn’t grow up in the same home as you, like caleb did. he didn’t walk you home from school every day, or help you dry your hair on wash days, or make you late night meals when you had to stay up doing homework.

(zayne also doesn’t give you the kind of look caleb does when you come visit him, like you’re the sun and the center of the universe and the most perfect being to ever exist all at once.)

you like being revered—who doesn’t? but that’s normal, because people often hold their family members in high regard. in the same way you hold caleb. because you’ve looked up to him your whole life, from when he was getting into fights as a kid to protect you from bullies up until now, where—despite the things he’s keeping from you—he’s very obviously taking on more than he can handle. you’ve always admired his selflessness, his willingness to carry burdens. like atlas, a world forever on his back. your entire universe sitting in the divot between his wide shoulders.

caleb made you cry after he went to the daa only once, when you first visited. you were terribly attached to him, devastated by him leaving home. you were an emotionally high-strung wreck and anything even slightly distressing made you well up, made it feel like the world was coming to an end. maybe that’s just being sixteen.

but his roommate had come back to their dorm and asked, “oh, is this your sister?”

caleb had been laughing with you only moments prior. he stayed smiling, but there was something underneath—a seriousness that he reserved for anyone but you. a little cold, ultimately more severe than you ever thought he should have to be. “no,” he said, like the idea itself was ridiculous. “we just grew up together.”

people had referred to you as brother and sister plenty when you were little, and even though it wasn’t actually the truth, it wasn’t something you dismissed as easily as caleb had to his roommate. you were tearing up when you asked him about it. the hormones, the devastation, the thought of him wanting to remove himself from your life in some fashion.

“i just—don’t see you that way,” he told you. “it doesn’t mean you’re not special to me. you’re the most special to me.”

you’d accepted it because he called you special and (back then, not so much now) you could always tell when he was lying.

(maybe you’ve never been good at discerning his lies from truth. maybe the two run so concurrently that they rest hand-in-hand, so colored by the other that they don’t have clear start and end points. synonyms, like you and caleb used to be. you worry that you don’t know him the way you thought you did when you were a teenager, when you could call him and accurately predict which ring he’d pick up on.)

you always feel flushed when you think of him like this. heat on your face. because he’s not your brother. or he was, but he isn’t now. or he is still, in some ways, and in some ways he’s not. he’s still the boy that showed you how to catch fireflies and poke holes in the top of mason jars so they could light up the porch during summer nights, and you’re still the girl that reminded him to open up the jars before you both went to bed so that the fireflies would be there to catch another day. but he’s also the man that looks at you with something so terribly heavy in his gaze that you’re scared to put it into words—and you’re also the woman that surrenders into the warmth of his palm when he cups your face, that doesn’t pull away when your mouths are so close that you can feel his breath on your lips.

it's this new heat. new, you tell yourself, even though you know it goes back further.

you touched yourself to the thought of him even before he died. this is something you can’t ever tell anyone—can barely even think about yourself. it was an accident. it didn’t count. you got distracted and thought about his thumb against your tongue and his broad shoulders under your hands and the weight of him between your thighs and you came so hard that it felt like dying, just a little. every time it happened after that, the mantra: it was an accident. it didn’t count. it was an accident.

and you wonder if you could classify the way you punish him as an accident, too. because you want him to hurt. but you also know what he wants most, in some abstract way. it would be clear if you let yourself think about it, but the same haze fixes itself over those thoughts—accident, doesn’t count—so you act half on instinct. a vague comment here, a gaze that lingers too long there. a finger drawn up the back of his uniform’s coat after you fix his collar, ghosting across the long length of his spine. 

a fever pitch. its synonyms: excitement, agitation. two opposites shoved into the same feeling. that’s the only way to describe the way things are around you and caleb now. breaths are counted, often hitched. touches are limited before they get dangerous. caleb has invited you to skyhaven for a long weekend, even with the fever pitch, the heat and the excitement and the agitation. maybe he’s a glutton for punishment. maybe he knows he deserves it. maybe he’ll take you any way he can have you.

“there she is,” he says when you let yourself in, the same way he always does. grinning wide like he can’t stop himself. handsome in a way that makes your stomach twist. your mouth goes a little dry when you see that he’s only half dressed, just in his uniform slacks and socks because he didn’t realize how early you’d be getting to his place. 

the socks are ones he got when he was with you. cheap, girly, cute. pink and green, little frogs dotted all across his large feet. you’d been walking around skyhaven together and it had started raining, and soon enough your shoes and socks were soaked, same as his. he took you to a convenience store and bought temporary replacements, and these were the only socks, for some reason, that were sold in men’s sizes. 

“dressed up for today, huh?” you ask, motioning to the socks. “special occasion? were you the belle of the ball?”

“i got to dance with the prince and everything,” he tells you. comes over to greet you with a hug, and you try to ignore the heat of his skin, his unbuckled belt. he’s so big that the embrace swallows you up, makes you feel like you’re eighteen again and caleb is coming home from the daa to see you. home is the word that sticks in your mind, that refuses to leave. “and, would you believe it, they crowned me homecoming queen.”

“i thought they stopped doing that at royal gatherings,” you say into his chest. “too many queens in one room, you know? a lot of tension.” 

he laughs and holds you for longer than you feel is necessary. you have to shoo him away to get ready and try not to let your eyes wander as he walks to his—your?—bedroom. that matter will have to be settled before you sleep here tonight. you do a decent job at not looking at his wide, muscled back.

you do less of a good job at not looking when all he puts on is one of his old sleeveless shirts and a pair of basketball shorts from the daa. like you’re both back home. like he never left. irresistible isn’t a word that caleb is allowed. not in the context of you. but when he’s like this—when things feel close to before—that word comes closer to applying.

“wanna go to the ice cream place around the corner?” he grins when he asks you this, cocky, because he already knows your answer. “i think they have that weird old man flavor you like. what is it? rum raisin?”

“pecan praline,” you say, but you know he already knew that too. “and shut up, it’s good.”

he takes you to ice cream and pays. gets rocky road for himself. takes licks from your ice cream cone when you let down your defenses and makes you watch the flat of his tongue curl in a way that should be illegal.

well—he doesn’t make you watch. you make yourself watch. you think you would die if you didn’t. you wonder if he notices because he takes more licks than he has any right taking of a flavor he describes as "ancient and gross.”

when you get home—to his home, you clarify in your mind, though he has gone through pains to make it feel like yours as well—the ice cream is all gone. your hands are a little sticky. the cost of something whimsical and fun. he asks if you want to watch a movie before dinner and you say, “i don’t want to watch a movie.”

and everything gets a little quiet.

you hate that there’s something building between you. you hate that you can’t look it in the face and very easily figure out exactly what it is. you hate spending time with him but you don’t think life would be worth living if you never got to spend time with him again.

“what do you wanna do, then?” his voiced is laced with insinuation. you don’t think he meant to sound like this. his eyes dart away from yours for a moment to safer territory before coming back.

you feel like you’re in high school, like you’re visiting a guy friend’s home and he’s doing something that’s going to make you call caleb to come pick you up. except you don’t want to go home and you don’t want to be picked up and caleb is already right here in front of you, where you’ve maybe wanted him always.

“i want—” you start, and you can’t. you can’t look at it.

he steps towards you. he’s big—so much bigger than you remember. wider. he’s put on muscle since he came to skyhaven and part of you wants to know how much. “hmm?”

you want something he can’t give you. you want that something so bad you could unravel into yarn, ball yourself up and roll under a bed somewhere, never to be found. you think that longing and mourning are two different flavors of the same thing.

“cook for me,” you command, because telling him to do something is easier than making yourself do something, and you can have space from him while he’s in the kitchen.

he makes you dinner. your favorite. has the ingredients on hand like always, like when you used to drop in on him at the daa. like he was always prepared for you to be a part of his life, a permanent fixture. you eat together while watching a film that just came out, one you both wanted to see. thought you said you didn’t want to watch a movie, he teases when you put it on, and you ignore him because you’re both well aware that he’s prodding at a wound that’s liable to open.

the idea of space was abandoned the second he sat down—you’re pressed flush against his side, your head resting on his shoulder when you’re not taking bites of his incredible cooking. it’s the way you used to eat together when you were kids. you’re aware of every stretch of bare skin that touches his. he takes up so much space—needs basically half of the couch to accommodate him, leaning back, legs spread wide. he’s your caleb when he’s like this: relaxed, always poised to smile, wearing the same clothes he’s worn since high school.

you stretch your legs out across his lap, curling yourself into him. his arm instinctually reaches across the back of the couch, lets you find purchase against his chest. it’s a familiar spot. distance seems far away, a dulled knife. this is your well-worn home, a niche you carved out with your bare hands over many years.

he clears his throat and his body stiffens. just a little. doesn’t count, your mind provides. a false memory, his thumb against your lips. an accident. “gettin’ comfy?”

“mmhmm.” you let him take your empty plate from you to put it on the side table, the muscles of his chest shifting and flexing underneath your cheek. you free up one of your legs and run your instep down his bare shin. go further, loop back so the outside of your foot traces a path up his calf, smooths against dark hair and warm skin.

he stops breathing altogether for a moment. but then he laughs low, like he’s amused, like you can’t hear the hollowness in it. “need me to move? we can’t both fit in this seat.”

sometimes you wish you could fit in his skin. that your bones could lie next to each other’s long before you’re buried together. that you could be synonyms again, that your definitions could match. 

(but you wonder, even if the explosion never happened, if there wouldn’t have eventually been this rift between the two of you. if it was an accident it doesn’t count would’ve been able to hide everything forever, if you could’ve succeeded in living happily like you always had. as family.)

“i’m not comfortable yet,” you grumble, petulant, and you get closer. scoot your body until you’re nearly sitting on his closest thigh. 

his free hand goes to your legs immediately. firm. holding you purposefully, a little more distant from his body than you want. “careful,” he warns very quietly. his voice is cold. that new tone that you’re not as familiar with. that he never used to use with you.

it’s him showing too much. careful of what? you could ask, and he wouldn’t be able to answer you. 

and then, the return of the caleb you know, as if he’d never left. “you wanna sit in my lap?” an innocent question, tinged with boyish charm. if he controls it, he can handle it. his voice is a little hoarse, only around the edges. you pretend not to notice.

you used to sit in his lap and nap against his chest all the time when you were little. there wasn’t this feeling there before. this trepidation. there wasn’t the man who used to be your brother holding you away from the lines that could be crossed because the lines hadn’t been there.

now, when you nod, he situates you easily. part strength, part evol. he places you mid-thigh, moves his legs closer together to give you more of a seat. brings your arms up to wrap around his neck, hands smoothing up your forearms and leaving nothing but heat in their wake. “better?” he asks. 

you want to be closer. your throat burns with something you don’t want to name. he wears the same cologne he started wearing his first year at the daa, the one that you got him for his birthday. light and clean and after a while it became so intrinsic to the thought of him that you bought a second bottle to spray on your pillows when he was away from home. you often thought about burying your nose against his neck just to smell, just to take in as much of him as you could. 

and what’s he going to do to stop you? it seems like you’re both incapable of addressing this terrible thing that sits between you—this half-truth, this accident. you tilt your head up, nose brushing the underside of his jaw. he inhales sharply, begins to turn towards you in askance, but you hold his chin with your thumb. tilt his head so you have better access to his neck.

he lets you, because he always lets you have whatever you want. spoiled. you breathe in deeply and you can smell his pulse, his fear, his sweat. you feel the way he swallows against the skin between your nose and your lips.

this isn’t close enough. you move to straddle him—your legs bracket his, your face buried in the skin of his neck, cheeks burning hot against his skin. you breathe in deep and it’s still not enough. you need him inside you in a way that doesn’t make sense. not sex—something deeper. you want the air in his lungs to be in yours. you want his blood to pump through your body, keep you alive. you want his scent beneath your skin, trapped, only for you. your nails scratch across the hair at the nape of his neck. 

his hands go to your hips like instinct, like magnetism. his touch is the difference between temporary and permanent. or it could be. “wait,” he says, voice a rasp, a scrap of something ruined. “wait.”

“what?” you ask. what you really want to ask is should i not be doing this? you shouldn’t. you shouldn’t and you know this and there are many reasons why. 

your lips drag across his neck when you speak and he groans, a deep noise punched out of him, his fingers digging deeper into your skin. he had to do sensitivity training when he got the metal arm, he told you when you had discovered him doing repairs, when you added another secret he was keeping to the growing pile. another piece of the boy you knew lost to you forever. he had to train himself to hold pieces of fruit without bruising the skin. how easily he could bruise yours. “pip-squeak,” he says, chastising—playing at brother, playing at something he can no longer be. “what are you doing?”

he’s already hard, stiff against your thigh. this is not a position he should be in if he wants to play house with you still, play at family even though he told you all those years ago that he doesn’t see you like that. he knows what you’re doing. you know what you’re doing. you take the lobe of his ear in between your teeth and he pulls you against him like he can't stop himself, hips rolling to find friction, a moan building in his chest. an automatic response, a base need. the feeling of him hard between your legs makes you want to pry your own skin off with need.

“i can’t—” he starts, pushing you away again. scrambling to be a better man. holds you just so, makes sure your bodies aren’t flush. he’s never been able to fully remove you—just keep you at a distance, somewhere he can control your comings and goings. his fingers graze your wrist, then trap it easily. you let it happen because you want to. he pulls your hand from his face, frees himself, forces you to remove yourself from hiding and look at him. you can barely look him in the eye—too afraid of what you see in his gaze. something like desire atop the usual reverence. he brings his captured prize close to his lips, his breath warm against your palm. “i don’t wanna make assumptions.”

laughable. this is past assumptions. but you understand. an accident. it doesn’t count. there are excuses, even now, you could use to get out of this. “if you were going to make one,” you ask, “what would it be?”

he smiles, that terrible little grin that got him into so much trouble as a kid, but it’s a facsimile. a performance. something he’s gotten better at since he died—but you know him too well. he looks at your palm like he wants to lay his face there, nuzzle into your warmth. you want to tame him like a dog. you want to be the only person that knows him for the rest of his life. “it’d be one that’d change things,” he says, a little more serious. not cold. still caring—just a warning. this is a point of no return. this is something I can’t come back from.

“as if things haven’t already changed,” you say, and you sound bitter because you are. because you’re not just talking about him between your legs, beneath you. 

you know him too well. his expression falters. he’s worried that you’re being self-destructive, that you're not doing this because you want to. you can see it on his face—the muted hope turning into concern, the desire banking its flames because there’s another problem to deal with, another emotion he has to fix for you. this is when you failed an exam at the hunter academy and told him you wanted to drop out. this is you catastrophizing, making the worst of a problem because if it already hurts, it might as well hurt more.

before he can put a true end to this, you say, “there was a point where you saw me as your sister.”

he swallows hard. his cock twitches against your thigh but you have to ignore that for your own sanity. “not now.”

you consider your next words very carefully. realize you shouldn't say them. “you’re the only person i ever think about when i touch myself.”

his breath stills. he says your name, quiet, like that’s going to stop you.

you’re punishing him. you’re punishing yourself. if you were a better person, you’d tell him you love him instead of telling him this. “if i’m not thinking about you, i can’t...” the word feels dirty. something you shouldn’t say in front of caleb, even though in your fantasies, he’s the one that makes you cum with his fingers, his tongue, then tells you how much he loves you after. he’s the one that fucks you like it’s the thing he was made to do.

he lets go of your wrist, runs a shaky hand down his face. breathes out through his nose in a way that sounds pained. “why are you doing this?”

“you always told me that i should tell my big brother the truth.” it’s the worst thing you could have said and it shows. he looks so guilty that you almost feel bad for him. but there are other things he should feel more guilty for, arguably worse than this. for you—for his punishment—this can be enough. “did you change your mind?”

he stares at you for a long moment, obviously warring with himself inside his head. the choice: to give in or to push you away. one of those would be the right thing, and one of those is what he wants. are you his sister or not? are you more than that, or less?

that question you can answer. more, always. because it’s the same for you. he’s always been more, the center of your universe. you gladly fell into his orbit long ago, and there’s nothing he could do that would make you want to leave.

his chest rises and falls rapidly beneath his sleeveless shirt. his arms tense as he reaches for you, then stops himself. “it feels like you’re doing this because you hate me.”

so he’s caught on to the fact that this is punishment, partially. “i could never hate you,” you say. “didn’t you tell me that, too?”

“when’d you get so mean, huh?” he asks. “where’s that pretty girl i grew up with?”

you sulk a little. tactical. “do you not think i’m pretty now?”

“‘course i do,” he says, giving in to what he wants, trailing long fingers up the side of your neck, spreading out his hand to hold your jaw. “still the prettiest girl in the world.” he’s looking at your lips, your chin in his hand, his words so quiet it’s almost as if they’re not for you. 

“do you do the same?”

“hmm?” he asks, still distracted by the tips of his fingers and their proximity to your lips. what could be: his thumb on your tongue. an accident. or not, anymore.

“do you think about me when you make yourself cum?”

a deep groan, this time. his hand moving to hold you in place by the back of your neck, his forehead against yours. the way he used to check your temperature when you were sick. he always takes care of you. he squeezes, and you think of the bruised skin of a fruit, you think of just how much pain you’d have to inflict for him to feel it. “if we do this,” he says, “i’m yours for good.”

yours for good. “i thought you already were?”

he looks up at you, laughs breathlessly. shocked, maybe, by your claim. amused by it. but not contesting it. “i really did spoil you too much when you were little, didn’t i?”

he did. you reach between your bodies, tugging at the tag of the necklace you’d gifted him when he graduated high school and regifted him when he came back from the dead. he knows what you want. you’re synonyms again, even if briefly. your desires run parallel.

he kisses you like he’s done it a million times, like it’s familiar. his mouth warm against yours, his body yielding under your touch, and you let out a noise that feels like mourning. there’s something lost in this moment even as there’s something gained. 

he pulls you to him closer, like he’s trying to make up for the loss. his tongue slides across yours, warm and careful despite his harsh grip on you. you part so he can pull at the hem of your shirt, and wordlessly you take it off, request the same of him. 

there’s a period of time he just spends looking at you, gaze hazy, fingers trailing up your sides. it’d feel like scrutiny if you didn’t understand it so well—finally seeing the real thing when you’ve imagined it so many times. it takes a moment for fantasy and reality to click, for you to realize that you’re not dreaming.

“i'm gonna move us, okay?” it’s now that he cracks, that he realizes he doesn’t want to have you on his couch. he’s always been like this—traditional in some ways, odd in others. your first time is going to be in his bed, you think, because that’s where first times are supposed to be. 

and you’re right—he carries you to his bedroom, mechanical arm looped underneath your legs. he has the skin graft on. you hate that there’s a new part of him that’s hidden to you, that you don’t know as well as the rest of him.

when he lays you down on his cool sheets, lays himself between your legs, intent on kissing you again, you stop him. a finger against his lips. he looks down at you, a little frantic. “you wanna stop?” he asks. his tone implies that this would be okay. his body language does not. if you wanted to stop, he’d let you—but he would never let you uncross the line of touching him the way you have. you can hear the fear in his voice. the worry that you’ll ask for things to go back to normal and for the first time in his life, he won’t be able to give you what you want.

you shake your head. relief makes the lines of his body soften, makes him take the hand you still have proffered to him and softly kiss each knuckle one by one. you use his sudden pliability to grab his hand, pull it closer to your face. you inspect the grafted skin closely, pretend it doesn’t make you insane that he can’t feel the touch. it alarms you how faithful it is to the original, even though you’re assuming there wasn’t much of caleb’s arm left to replace after the explosion. he has a scar on his ring finger from knocking a boy’s tooth out after he tried to touch you inappropriately on the playground at school. it’s still there, smooth and pearlescent. you kiss it and wonder if he remembers.

“something's on your mind. you gonna tell me what it is?” he asks. kisses you light and reassuring. confident, like this is something routine from the entire time he’s known you. you wonder if it’s the same for him: you imagine having something so often that when it's finally yours, it’s easy to forget that there was a point where it wasn’t.

“i don’t want you to belong to anyone but me,” you tell him. it’s the tamest of what you could say. you’re worried you’ll scare him with the intensity of your thoughts, with the need you feel for him. 

“thought we covered that,” he says. yours for good. he sports that boyish grin that you could never capture in photos because his whole heart is only in the expression when he’s looking you in the eyes. it makes you feel like an animal in heat and like you’re saying goodbye to a loved one for good. two opposites shoved inside the same feeling, forced to become synonyms.

you make him undress entirely, your breath nearly petering out when you see him fully, his body a trained weapon. he's so hard for you that it looks painful, that he shudders and grabs your wrist when you try to slide your palm against him. "not yet," he tells you, lightly snaps the strap of your bra. when you undress you keep your panties on. you didn’t wear anything special for him—didn’t think being with caleb like this would be in the realm of possibility, even though everything has been leading here for weeks—but he still short-circuits at the sight of you in very regular underwear. stares for too long before pulling at the elastic with his long fingers, eyes fluttering closed, breath coming quick. “god… look at you.” his fingers dip into the waistband, tug a little harder.

“not yet,” you say. copying him, like you used to when you were younger. bat your eyelashes at him when he gives you an exasperated look. he laughs like he’s not at the edge of his patience, laughs like your commands are amusing to him, but silently complies. he slots himself between your legs, ruts against you, kisses you messier and messier. your underwear is ruined by his precum and your arousal, the fabric so slick that it’s almost like you’re feeling him skin-to-skin. almost, but not quite. the noises he makes go from composed to completely unrestrained. you’re making him wait longer than you should, maybe. 

“what if i told you to cum like this?” you ask, legs tightening around him.

he makes a defeated noise, a plea devoid of words. “you have to let me cum inside you.”

“i have to?” you ask, teasing. then, a little pouty: “you’d say no?”

he pulls away from you and groans, and in his eyes are you’re killing me here and i can’t believe we’re doing this and clearer than that i need you, i need you however i can have you. “no,” he says after a moment. “no, i’d do it, but—give me something. let me eat you out, at least. please.”

you relent. maybe you’re too easy to persuade. but you think, in all honesty, that you’re just as bad at saying no to him as he is to you. you pull him back between your legs, drag his hand as if commanding him. you use his fingers to slip your panties to the side. “i just wanted to hear you say you’d do it.”

when he touches you fully for the first time, his skin meeting wet heat, the noise that comes from his chest is indecent, fully broken. “oh… fuck,” he says, and like he can’t stop himself, there’s a long finger inside of you, curling, and then two. he sits back to watch, to see where he disappears inside of you, and you want more than just this.

“caleb,” you say, and he should know what you mean because he always does. the different tones of his name—whether you want him to do something for you, or stop what he’s doing, or do something different entirely—it’s a language. even with this new element to your relationship, the basics haven’t changed.

he knows this. he understands. he smiles, wide and wicked. “what?”

“you know what.”

“yeah, i know what.” his focus is unbroken. he’s always been intense about the things he thinks are important. “i’m gonna make you cum first, and then you can have what you want. sound good?”

you would respond but his thumb finds your clit and he works you like he’s always known what your body wants. maybe he has. maybe it’s automatic, a knowledge deep in his cells from all the time you’ve spent together. 

he looks so smug you could stop everything right now just to wipe that look off his face. you could give him everything he ever wanted just to keep seeing it. there’s a deep thrum within your body that’s just his name over and over again, like he’s the blood pumping through you, like he’s the only thing you need to stay alive. 

“wait,” you say, and at first he doesn’t but when he realizes you’re serious, he stills, concern putting a crease between his brows. but you’re fine with his plan. you just want something. “keep kissing me?”

“needy,” he chides, but his expression softens. less cocky, more reverent. he keeps a slow pace until you need it faster, keeps his fingers pumping inside of you until you tighten around them so much that he can’t move them anymore, until every breath feels like a moan. and the whole time his lips on yours, the kisses much too chaste for what he’s currently doing to you. so careful, so loving. 

when you finish on his fingers he chuckles, presses an open mouth kiss to your neck that has your thighs clenching around his arm with a force that makes you scared you could snap bones. 

“no way in hell were you gonna get me off first,” he says into your neck.

“it wasn’t a competition,” you say.

“it kinda was,” he says. kisses the flutter of your pulse, teeth so close to your skin that it’s all you can think about. he pulls off your final piece of clothing, fingers still wet, tracing your own slick across your skin. “and i won. so i’m gonna help myself to my reward now.”

it makes sense that your first time with him is in missionary because that’s how you’ve always imagined it. you want to see his eyes, his face, the way his jaw clenches when he fills you entirely. the only thing that's different from your fantasies: it’s unspoken the way you both need to be making unbroken eye contact as he slides in. as he stretches you much farther than his fingers did. 

you keen like a dog when he bottoms out, and he looks bereft of belief. laughs, breathy, like this is something easy to brush off, like this isn’t him inside of you for the first time, and then gets very serious, quiets, because there’s no way to minimize this moment. you’re connected in one of the deepest ways you can be. he barely breathes. he doesn’t stop looking you in the eye, a connection so intense that you can almost feel it more than him physically within you. 

he can’t keep it up when he begins to move. he brings you forehead to forehead, one hand holding himself up and the other gripping the head of the bed frame—the mechanical hand, because you hear the groan of twisting metal, and you think of skin bruising, you think of how easily he could kill you. how easily you could kill him. because he’d let you, if you tried. if you really wanted him dead.

“i don’t understand what you do to me,” he pants. you wonder if he misspoke or if he really doesn’t understand what it is you do to him, why he feels the way he does. his thrusts grow increasingly frantic, hips sloppy in their movements. “thought about this—so much," he tells you, and you know he's telling the truth by the way his voice breaks on the words.

the thought of him being with someone other than you crosses your mind and you feel pain so sharp you could die. you dig your teeth into his shoulder because you want to mark him. you want to mark him so deep that it’s retroactive, that anyone that might have seen him like this before you knows that he was always destined to end up yours.

he whines, pitchy, a hand—flesh and blood, the one he can feel you with—pushing your thighs up higher, spreading you out to infinite ends. “that’s good, baby,” he murmurs—about the bite, you think. he tries to pull you closer, as if you could get closer than this. you feel him in your throat, he’s so deep. “love you,” he whispers, quiet like he didn’t mean to say it, but he repeats it again, and again, and again.

and you love him so much. you love him so much you could burst with it. you hate that he left you and you hate that he’s different now and you hate that there are parts of him you don’t know entirely, that you didn’t help create. you cradle his head, let him whisper into your ear, press a kiss to his hairline between shaky breaths. 

“not gonna last,” he bites out, voice tight. “can you... please, one more time for me?”

it’s easy with the pressure that’s building within you. his hand moves between you, messy, thumb pawing at your clit with little to no rhythm. confident but clearly inexperienced. it doesn’t matter—it’s him, caleb, and you’ve wanted him like this for so long that even that small touch is enough to push you over, to have your muscles tensing and collapsing and folding in on themselves. you curl around him like you’re never going to let him go. 

his hips snap to yours once, twice more before he spills inside of you, your name spoken over and over again. a mantra. an accident. it didn’t count.

but this counted. this wasn’t an accident. this was everything you wanted since the first time you saw him as more than a brother, more than the boy you grew up with. his cum inside of you and his spit in your mouth and your name on his lips. his skin wedged underneath your fingernails as you leave whatever marks you can. undeniable proof that you were here, that you were his, that he was yours.

he lies against you—holding himself up, maybe, so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. but you want all of it. you want to feel all of him always. you lay in silence for a minute before either of you have the strength to move. you card your nails through his hair and he hums into your neck, then rolls you, uses his strength instead of his evol to carefully place you at his side. you slide your arm across his perfect chest, curl a thigh and slot your calf between his. now that you’ve been that close, it’s impossible to remove yourself.

loudly, he hums again, satisfied. you'd be annoyed with him if the sound didn't put such warmth in your chest. he plays with the ends of your hair, kisses the top of your head. “so… are you gonna patch up my injuries or do i have to call a medical team?”

you snort, smacking his chest. still flushed, so pretty in the dim light of the bedroom. “i didn’t do anything that bad.”

“i dunno, you bit me pretty hard." he plays at massaging his shoulder, and for a moment you worry. but even if you did hurt him—even if you drew blood—you think he wouldn't mind. "if it scars I’m gonna have to think of something to tell people when they ask me about it.”

“just tell them it was me,” you say. you’re only half joking.

“you wouldn’t believe how I got this,” he says to an imagined crowd. “my girlfriend’s got chompers like you’ve never seen.”

he can’t see your face, but you bite your lip—hide the magnitude of your smile. press your heated face into his chest and enjoy the way his drying sweat feels against your skin. “someone should take her in for scientific study,” you respond. an unspoken answer to his unspoken question. “put her in a museum.”

“nah, you can’t spend all your time being studied. you’ve got more important places to be.”

“my job?” you ask. “protecting linkon?”

“hmm…” he pretends to think about it, rubs his chin against the top of your head. musses up your hair on purpose to make you laugh. like when you were younger and would sleep huddled up next to him after a nightmare, but so much different. “no. here with me.”

you sigh, dramatic, as if that’s not the only place you ever want to be. “guess i’ll have to disappoint the greater scientific community.”

“i’d keep you here with me forever if i could.” his playfulness is suddenly gone. the words are full of longing, the kind that feels sticky, the kind where you know you can never truly have everything you want but you’ll take what you can get.

there are so many things that would make this impossible—not just the impracticality, but the pieces of your lives. the outside forces driving a wedge between the two of you. the secrets, the things that have changed, the things that have stayed too much the same. and yet, if things were simpler, you could want that. just to be his implicitly, and him yours, and nothing else. only existing to each other. synonyms, almost—something closer than that. one word with two slightly different meanings. in minutiae, the same.

there’s no way to truly put this into words for him. “forever could be negotiated,” you say, and hope that some fraction of what you feel is expressed in the words. you want to keep him in a way that’s impossible. you want to hold him in your mouth like a secret, in your body like a breath.

he’s quiet for a while. holding you, feeling your permanence. “you can say you love me back, you know. i won’t even tease you for it.”

and you remember the way he whispered love you, i love you, fuck, i’m so in love with you into your ear and feel guilty for not saying it then, for making him wait. but the words are heavy. trapped. it’s difficult to say a secret aloud after you’ve kept it for so much time, despite the fact that it’s already been revealed.

you prop yourself up on an arm, take his face in your hands. he doesn’t look as confident as his words sounded. there’s a hesitance in his gaze, a fear that even now you would reject him. even now you would ask to return to the way things were before, that you would expect him to swallow his feelings—or worse, that you would leave because he couldn’t. 

“i’d live inside you if you'd let me,” you say, because somehow this is easier. and he understands—pulls you towards him for a kiss, like he’s telling you it’s okay, for now this is enough. but it’s easier with your eyes closed, with his hand cradling your face, when you can feel his proximity but you don’t have to look. “i love you.”

he smiles when you kiss him again. grins so wide he can hardly kiss you back. smug, content, entirely too pleased with this situation. it annoys you how much you adore the cocky side of him, the side that can allow itself to be overconfident in retrospect. now that you’ve said the feelings out loud, he can tell you how obvious it’s always been that you’re head over heels for him.

he opens his mouth to say some smart comment and you have to put your finger against his lips to preemptively quiet him. “you said no teasing.”

“i don’t remember that.”

“then you have a terrible memory.”

he kisses your finger, amused at your insistence on quieting him. “you know that’s not true. i’m gonna remember every detail of today. and at our wedding, everyone is gonna hear the story about how you finally told me you love me after years of pining—”

“you’re projecting,” you say, “but i'll let you tell your little story.”

his cheeks are rosy, flushed. maybe because you hit a nerve he left wide open for you, or maybe because you weren’t phased at all by his choice of words—another quiet presumption, another quiet acquiescence. “i’m still waiting for medical attention, in case you forgot.”

“can i kiss it better, or are you actually going to make me go get your first aid kit?”

he pretends to think about it. tries to hide his smile and fails. you love him so wholly that you could die from it. “there’ve been some crazy strides in modern medicine recently,” he tells you, mock-serious. “that first option might just work. i’m putting my life in your hands, doc.”

you kiss the mark you left on him and you think: i’d keep you here forever if i could. one word, the same definition. you’ll run parallel to him until there’s nothing left. 

[blushingreid]

Temporary Parents

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hi bbs, it’s been so so long & I’m sorry :( Here’s a longer fic that’s been in the drafts for YEARS NOW LMAOOOOO (disclaimer: this was written before my like 3 yr hiatus, no proof read, just straight posted for y'alls enjoyment) Giving some type of dad vibes I think might've been a request, but enjoy & slide me some feedback ! <3

Gun drawn, Spencer cautiously entered the house and into the child’s bedroom. Y/n followed closely behind, her gun out, ready for any outcome. Hearing a shuffle coming from the closet, y/n grasped Spencer’s bicep to get his attention before silently signaling to the closet. Spencer slowly approached the closet and whipped the door open.

“FBI! Put your hands up!”

Regret instantly hit Spencer as he holstered his gun when he saw a crying child crawl out of the closet. It was Jayden, Jordan Richard’s five-year-old son. 

Y/n holstered her gun and approached him, arms outstretched. “Hey there, you don’t have to be scared anymore, we’re the good guys,” she quietly explained as she motioned for Jayden to come closer to her.

He hesitated and looked between y/n and Spencer before running into y/n’s arms. After they left the house, Y/n brought him to the ambulance in the driveway to get checked out, while the team talked about the next steps.

They had been called to a small town in Virginia to investigate a series of families murdered with the same m.o. The team had gone to arrest the unsub, Jordan Richard, well the person they originally thought was the unsub. What they didn’t expect was for the alleged unsub and his family to have been the next victims. This meant the real unsub was still out there and the team was back to square one.

The only miracle was that the unsub had gotten sloppy and overconfident that he had just assumed that “missing” Jayden must’ve been sleeping over someone else’s house. Now this child would be the unsub’s demise.

Y/n was about to go join the team when Jayden grabbed her hand, silently pleading for her not to leave them. She gave him a small smile and sat down next to him in the ambulance.

“He’s lucky. There are no signs of any physical abuse,” the EMT said while placing a small band-aid on Jayden’s finger.

“Y/l/n, we need to take Jayden to headquarters and see if he can remember anything that can help us,” Hotch said before getting into one of the SUVs.

Y/n explained to Jayden the plan to head back to headquarters for the day. He didn’t seem to entirely understand the plan, except that he would get to spend the day with y/n, so he nodded and followed her into the SUV.

When they finally arrived at the bullpen, y/n led Jayden into one of the lounges. JJ came in to drop off some drawing supplies and snacks to help him feel more comfortable. The two of them spent the rest of the day attempting to get Jayden to open up about anything he might remember from last night. To everyone’s disappointment, Jayden was still too traumatized and only responded with nods and shakes of his head. Penelope had tried to find out if Jayden has any other family near, but she couldn’t find any. The social worker permitted Jayden to stay with y/n and Spencer, given that he’s a key witness and potentially still in danger. Actually, he wouldn’t let go of y/n’s leg when the social worker tried to take him for the night, so the social worker permitted him to stay with them until the case was solved. 

Once the three of them arrived at Spencer and y/n’s shared apartment, Spencer quickly went to childproof the guest bedroom. After tucking him in, y/n slid into bed next to Spencer, his arms instantly wrapping around her. 

“You know you always wanted kids,... so here you go,” y/n joked.

“I guess you could say this is our trial period for parenting,” Spencer laughed and placed a kiss goodnight to y/n’s forehead.

The multiple late nights and early mornings for this case, had tired them out so much that soon they were bother knocked out for the night. So knocked out, that neither felt Jayden crawl into bed with them. 

The next morning, y/n rolled over in bed to find that it was empty. She didn’t plan to leave her comfortable bed, until she heard Spencer scream. Running out of bed, she stopped once she saw Spencer covered in some type of food, Jayden no where to be seen. 

“Spence what happened to you?” Y/n laughed, walking into the kitchen.

“JAYDEN THREW HIS YOGURT AT ME!”

“What’d you do to get him to do that?” She teased, looking around the apartment for Jayden. Y/n eventually found him watching tv in the guest room.

“Absolutely nothing. All I did was join him at the table and the next thing I knew he launched his yogurt at me. This is my favorite sweater too,” Spencer pouted, trying to wipe off the yogurt.

“It could be because the first time you met, you had a gun pointed at him. He could still feel threatened by you,” y/n sighed before grabbing Spencer a new shirt.

“By the end of this case, I swear to you, Jayden and I are gonna be best friends,” Spencer promised. 

Y/n didn’t doubt it one bit. She knew Spencer would be the best dad in the world. 

The next two days had gone quick, Spencer and y/n stayed with Jayden to keep him safe and were there once he was comfortable enough to give them more information about that night. 

Y/n had left Spencer and Jayden alone in the apartment, while her and Emily checked out some leads. She hoped, the two of them wouldn’t tear apart the apartment by the time she got back. They’d seemed to be getting along together the past two days.

After checking out the leads, y/n headed back to her apartment to check on Spencer and Jayden before heading back to headquarters. She mentally braced herself for whatever she would be walking into as she unlocked the apartment door. To her surprise, she heard Jayden and Spencer laughing together. As she entered the apartment, she saw Spencer and Jayden running and ducking behind furniture with nerf guns. She giggled at the scene in front of her.

Suddenly, she was hit in the forehead by a foam dart. Y/n looked in the direction the dart came from to see a guilty Spencer emerge from behind the kitchen counter.

“Sorry love, I thought you were Jayden,” Spencer said as he jogged to the door to greet her with a kiss.

“I see you two have been keeping yourselves entertained,” y/n laughed as she went to go sit on the couch. Spencer followed, wrapping an arm around her. 

Jayden finally emerged from their bedroom, nerf gun in one hand and a piece of paper in his other. He ran and jumped onto the couch in between Spencer and y/n. Y/n examined the paper Jayden had handed her. It seemed to be a drawing of a logo.

“This looks familiar Spence, like a company logo,” y/n said as she handed the drawing to him.

“T-th-the scary m-man,” Jayden said, pointing to a mean stick figure he’d drawn on the bottom corner of the paper.

“Is this how you know the man who hurt your family?” Y/n softly asked. Jayden quickly nodded his head before jumping off the couch and running into the other room.

“This might just be what we need to finally catch the unsub,” y/n exclaimed as she gave Spencer a quick kiss and ran out the door to tell the team.

Spencer wanted to be there with y/n and the rest of the team when they went to go arrest the unsub, but he knew he had to stay and keep Jayden safe. A small part of him was actually happy he stayed, that way he’d be able to spend more time with Jayden before a foster family takes him.

“Ok kid, how do we convince my wife to start trying for our own kid?”

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

CH.28 (Red Dragon)

I'm sure nothing will go wrong from here on out! :)

Okay, but she worked hard using illegal magic! She deserves this! I support women's rights, and women's wrongs.

Oh. Oh I see.

Is THAT what the kids are calling it these days...?

File that under 'foreshadowing I'm sure will come back to haunt us all later'.

Ah, yes. Tell your cleric girlfriend about your forbidden wizardry. Or don't. Actually. Maybe don't.

distract, discombobulate, overcome. Eyes up...there... Falin....

YOU DIDN'T ERASE IT YET???? MARCILLE, THE PLOT--!!

No bag of holding, huh? Well, I guess you'd need a bag of colding....

At this point, the fact that Chillchuck is still... well... chill? Is really shocking to me personally. He just takes it all in stride.

She did it for love, you guys! It's fine!

"My motives are noble! Anyway, if you ever tell a soul about this--"

uh oh.

Senshi, how could you not have known?!?!

Do we have to resurrect you too now?! Is Marcille's list of crimes going to just keep going up?

oh, apparently not. Why does SHE look surprised?

I guess when you create a body for your girlfriend using a dragon, which is inherently magical.... you kinda supercharge her?

Congrats on your easy bake oven! It's conveniently made of... meat?

So... it's philly steak sandwiches? From dragon?

I mean, what did you expect? She's Laios' sister... of course she'll eat it.

Also, come on Marcille. Several hours ago you were elbows deep in dragon gut, doing a 3D jigsaw puzzle with her digested bones. You can stomach this.

Just think of it as Falin being partially inside you................

I damn well told you. And look at Laios' smirk! He knew she'd be down.

Chilldadchuck is back at it again with the side eye.

He's not even impressed lmaooooo

B-but... but your little buddy! You would drown it just like that?! It hasn't even done anything malicious to you! It was just trying to survive!

..............Press X to doubt.

You know the uh. The contrast between that upper left panel and the bottom right is. Quite. Quite there. That's quite. Different.

ohohohoh Marcille what an unexpected turn of events! No way around it I'm afraid! Bed sharing is the only way.

This is the strongest display of emotion we've seen in Laios in a while. It's. really so telling. And what a good shot.

YOU DIDN'T FUCKING ERASE IT?!?!?!? HOW HARD COULD IT HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN--WHY-- NOOOOO!!!!!