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theblacklewinsky · 23 hours

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Note: back with our favorite boo, Terry. It's my birthday, but I guess I can gift y'all with something lol! ❤️

Helpful Neighbors. | Aaron Pierre.

Toxic!Neighbor Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on. toy play, water sports), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint.

Summary: You confront your noisy neighbor about his loud late night company, he allows you to retaliate.

you fucking nasty,

first you cum and then you wipe it on my ass cheeks.

There wasn't much that you knew about your neighbor Terry. You knew he was generally friendly, you bringing him a small housewarming gift of a bath and bodywork's candle when he'd first moved in months prior. You knew he was a vet based on the marines sticker on the bumper of his pick up. You knew he was active, you often seen him heading out for camping trips, often seeing him in the apartments shared gym area when you'd take time out of your busy schedule to get a short work out in. You knew he was gorgeous, anybody could attest to that.

And he was loud. Very fucking loud.

And if you didn't know anything else, you knew that for sure.

The noise varied. Most nights he was particularly quiet, you wouldn't even have noticed anybody lived there if you hadn't seen him before. But some nights, he was a little loud. Metal music from an 80's band bled through the apartment walls, straight into your bedroom, you actually didn't mind it—being an exhausted charge nurse, the metal music did something for you, calming you in a strange way. Him seemingly fixing something, sometimes in the latest hours, drilling, hammering.

But it wasn't any of that. There wasn't any metal music. But he was sure drilling or hammering somebody. And she was extensively louder than anything you'd heard from Terry's apartment. You had to quickly grab your remote, muting your comfort show on your television to make sure she wasn't screaming blood murder.

It wasn't bloody murder, but she was screaming alright. You sighed, it was your first off day in two weeks of working straight in the trauma unit of the local hospital. It'd been a viscous stomach bug going around, and with the big panic from the prior pandemic, the hospital wasn't risking another one slipping up—so work was rough, and long.

But maybe you were bitter? It'd been way too long since you'd properly got your rocks off—not anything involving your beloved rose. So maybe you were just a bit bitter that at least somebody was getting theirs. Good for him! Just not on tonight. Not this night. You'd planned to crawl in bed, eat the most unhealthiest snacks in your cabinet and watch your comfort show, and maybe weep the prior two weeks out onto your pillow, you deserved a good cry after all, girl.

You sighed heavily, placing the pillow over your head letting out a groan. You'd definitely have to catch him in the morning and talk about this, cause this was outrageous.

Maybe sleep was out of the equation, but you'd definitely moved on to weeping.

The morning sprung and you jumped into action. Due to working 7AM to 7PM, you left out for work around the same time as a Terry did his morning runs. 6AM.

You woke up at 5:30 on a mission, brushing your teeth and doing your skincare and putting on your biggest t-shirt, sweatpants to match, oh you meant business.

You caught him as soon as he'd left his door, jogging the opposite way of your apartment toward the elevators before you called out to him. He turned confused at first until he noticed you, giving a lazy morning smile as he did. Black compression shirt, with the pair of black basketball shorts to match. He had no business being so damn fine. But you weren't deterred by that, last night was fucking atrocious.

"Goodmornin', beautiful," he smoothly recited like he did every morning. He was just nice like that. He said it every morning without fail, he always found something to compliment you on. New color of scrubs, how you decided to get your hair, even sweeter when he sees you out of your deliciously fitting scrubs.

"Good morning Terry," you smiled weakly, "I don't mean to disturb your routine, but can we talk for a minute?" You uneasily shifted your weight. You weren't good with confrontation, it just wasn't in your nature, but you didn't play about your sleep.

He nodded and you walked inside still holding the door open for him to signal him to follow you. He did, his smile faltering a bit once he came inside, you could tell he was confused a little thrown off.

You closed the door behind y'all, moving into your large kitchen area to pour yourself a mug of coffee. "Want some?" You politely asked him to which he politely rejected holding up his thermal water bottle.

You added your usual fixings to your coffee, taking a cautious sip, cradling your mug in your hand before you continued. "I don't mean to be confrontational when I say this," you walked around him heading into the living area, plopping on your newly purchased gray plush sectional, " but you were very ...loud last night." You chose your words, nicely.

He featured you a puzzling look, his finger gesturing to the comfortable chair adjacent to you, "of course." You quickly obliged before he took a seat, uneasily continuing. "Your lady...company, I meant." Sex talk wasn't your thing. Sex was sacred to talk about for you—and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable at all.

"Oh shit," he softly cursed, his expression filled with slight concern, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were bein' so loud, I hope we ain't keep you up."

"Oh, it's not a big deal," you quickly intercepted not wanting him to feel any type of way, "it's just my first day off in a couple of weeks so I just wanted to wind down with some quiet time and you guys were very...vocal," you chuckled to diffuse the awkwardness of the conversation, to which he added a light chuckle of his own, "at least somebodies getting their rocks off around here." You said jokingly before taking a sip of coffee. You hoped that didn't sound suggestive.

A short moment of silence followed your statement before you recognized Terry's eyes locked on something behind you for responding, "I see I ain't the only one gettin' mine," you furrowed your brows slowly turning your attention to where he was previously locked on. Your rose, sitting cleaned and comfortably on your end table.

You really had to learn to start putting shit back.

Or maybe not.

Somehow you found yourself on your back, pinned to the couch, Terry folding you up in missionary, knees to your chest, rose to your clit as he gave you long, deep, torturing strokes. You couldn't even remember the quick and somehow satisfying foreplay you'd taken to get here—and you didn't even care anymore. You could feel the fat tip of his dick kissing your cervix, and as if you weren't loud enough, you got louder. How ironic? You could barely hear yourself think, or were you thinking at all?

"Mhm," he hummed, his face composed, nothing but his teeth lightly sunken into his bottom teeth as he drilled you in, finger tips of his thumb and pointer finger giving your right nipple light squeezes and tugs, he kept his eyes on you, even when they rolled back, quickly turning up the vibrator, "look at you, mama. Why you bein' so vocal? Why you bein' so fuckin' loud, baby?" He taunted.

"My god, Terry," you whined, breathless, he kept up, dick hitting that spot that made your toes curl. How was he so good at this shit? You understood her completely. It wasn't atrocious at all. Very understandable. Very justified.

"Yeah, baby?" He quirked his brow up, his own soft groans almost mocking yours. "You want her to hear you? She still next door, wake her ass up mama. She kept you up all night didn't she?" He asked tearing his fingers away from your nipples to slap firmly against your cheek prompting an answer from you.

"Yessss," you slurred out, throat raw from moaning and groaning. You'd say yes to anything he asked you in this moment. You'd adopt six German kids and live on a farm with him if he requested you to do so in this moment, the world was his oyster. He was digging you out so good, so deliciously good. He was getting more than your rocks off and you knew that when the pressure in the pit of your tummy came weighing down on your bladder. "Ooouuu fuck! Fuck I'm gonna—"

"Yeah," he chuckled, evil all evident in his tone, all in his smile as he glanced down to the mess unfolding between y'all, "wet this dick up baby, I feel that shit." He groaned, eyes zoning in on the creamy ring you were leaving around him. "Wet me up, and you better wake her ass up when you do."

"Cumming!" You abruptly announced nearly cutting him off from his lewd rant, the sounds of your own arousal clashing with his dick sent you tumbling over the edge, clear juices spurting out of you with so much force it ejected him out as well. It only prompted a more lazy laugh out of him, shaking the suction of the rose on your clit even faster. Trembling underneath him, your breath hitched in your throat as he sent you into complete overdrive, your voice was hoarse once a moan came tumbling out of you loud and broken. Why did you cum so hard from knowing that she was next door, possibly hearing you get your nut off with him?

"I like that shit, mama," he mumbled to you, turning the rose off slapping his free hand down on your clit, watching your body jerk in response. He said nothing dipping his body down momentarily to give your soft, sensitive nub three sloppy, mind numbing sucks. He was so loud and lewd with it, smacks loud, tongue slurping loudly. You were too turned on, too sensitive, but too fucked out to even object given how sensitive you were. He stood up on his knee once again, other floor planted flat on the ground. "Sticking up so pretty f'me and shit," he hummed, "put that ass in the air, I'm finna give her some more."

You whined, you were too tired to move. If this was sex? What the fuck were you having before? And he seemed to insatiable, how was he asking you for more when you already so tattered from your last orgasm?

"Can't," you weakly managed to get out.

He took the initiative to help you, his hands firmly grasping your hips and flipping you over roughly, bringing your hips up into the air, spreading out so nicely for him. He moaned in response, looking at how both your holes seemed to open for him. He slapped his massive hand against your ass cheek, the loud sound seemingly filling your quiet apartment, a high wince following behind it, his dick twitching at the recoil. "You gon be a good girl for daddy and hold this shit on your clit while I take care of you back here?" He asked you the dominating reference only furthering the throbbing in your pussy, one hand softly kneading the sting out from his slap. You could hear the quiet buzzing from behind you, head nodding eagerly as your hand reached from under you, making grabby motions for the toy.

Once it was in your possession, you placed it where he asked you, body lightly trembling since your clit hadn't had a moment long enough without stimulation. Both his large hands had been planted on your ass cheeks, spreading you apart for him. He groaned in response, spitting down onto your second hole winking for him so sweetly, you moaned in response to his lewd action. "Fuck yeah," he muttered sending another lighter slap to your ass. No further words were spoken as he grabbed his girthy member in his hands, fat tip rubbing softly against your slit before he stretched you open once again around him.

A loud whine erupted from you as soon as you felt him sliding into you, stretching you, the light sting providing the perfect pain to compliment the pleasure of him literally stuffing you. It was mind numbing for him, feeling you stretch and clench around him so perfectly, gummy, wet walls feeling so warm and snug around him. "Pussy so fuckin' good," he muttered not sure to who, you or him.

His strokes had already started off staggering; hard and deep. Pelvis slamming into your ass with loud, rippling sounds through your apartment, the force literally nudging your couch across the floor. You couldn't care about the scratches you knew were now engrained in your hardwood flooring, everything was so good. Too good.

"Fuckkkk!" You slurred out, eyes fluttering closed, face pressed against the plush cushions beneath you. Brainless wasn't the word for you. You were hyper focused on the pleasure you were receiving, the vibrations from the toy, Terry's back breaking strokes, and the sounds of your arousal around him didn't help the diagnosis. Your free hand held onto the top of the couch for a sense of stability. "Why—why you fuckin' me like this?!" You stammered out through a moan, voice hoarse and broken.

"What you mean, mama?" He asked through a groan, sending another rough slap to your ass. "You such a good girl, you deserve this dick. Workin' all hard and shit, always lookin' so fuckin' good." He grunted, working himself inside of you. Thumb tracing your asshole teasingly. "You deserve some good dick, baby."

The praise only heightened your moans, encouraging you to slam your ass back on him until you felt your own orgasm once again lurking around the corner.

"Show the fuck out, then, baby," he said breathlessly, stilling his own movements as he watched as you fucked yourself on his dick, ass slamming back onto his pelvis with dizzying recoil.

"Shiiiit! I'm finna cummmm!" You moaned out, your movements only increasing in pace, using him for your own pleasure now. And he ate that shit up.

"That's right, get that nut mama. Get yo' shit, fuck me," he affirmed through a series of groans accentuating your own, "fuck, I feel all that shit. Nasty ass bitch, get that nut." His dirty words filling your ears as you released around him, halting your movements. Squirting for the second time, the orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks literally. This one cramped your muscles as it temporarily paralyzed you, huge steaks of pleasure coursing through you. Terry didn't give you a moment to recover, his own climax brewing in the background. He resumed his strokes as if he never stopped, powerful, fast and hard. The rose clobbered to the floor with a hard thud, still buzzing away as your body flattened into the couch, Terry using his upper body strength to drop dick in you.

"You runnin?" He asked breathlessly through a series of overstimulating strokes to your pussy. "Why you runnin? Daddy, let you get yours right? Let daddy get his." He hummed to you.

You couldn't tell him you were overstimulated. Could you talk at all? Were you even breathing? What the fuck even was this?

"Dick got you goin' stupid, look at you," he groaned, dick hitting that spot again, and again. You came again, with announcement. You hadn't even known you were that close again. "Fuck, you keep cummin' on my dick."

Your voice came back to you in little squeals, nodding in agreement to his last statement.

"Pussy so good—I'm finna nut baby," his voice rushed and panicked as he kept up his strokes, "fuck I'm finna nut—shit!" He hurriedly pulled out of you, groans and grunts spilling from him earnestly as warm, ropes of cum painted your ass.

That was so unreal.

You focused on steadying yourself as you heard Terrys whispered curses behind you. It wasn't long before you heard his lazy chuckle, soft lips kissing down your spine causing a small chill to sneak through you. "You good?"

"Yes? I dunno," you answered bleakly, voice rasped out. Terry laughed gently, hands rubbing some warmth into your thighs and midsection.

"You enjoyed yourself?" He asked softly, kissing up to your neck, and shoulder tenderly. You nodded eagerly to his question, earning another chuckle for him. He sounded so good. "I'm glad, where towels at pretty girl. Lemme clean you up."

"Bathroom closet," you jammed your finger in the direction of the closet. You were halfway into a slumber when Terry came back with a warm towel, cleaning you up gently.

You knew for a fact it was gonna be a lot of noise coming from the both of your apartments.

still don't have a tag list together but I hope y'all enjoyed another toxic Terry fic 🫡 my favorite Terry after all! Happy Friday! 💗

#aaron pierre #fine black men #fine as fuck #black writers #black!fem!reader #rebel ridge #terry richmond

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damiansgoodgirll · 2 days

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hi~

can i request a rhea smut where rhea is eating out her secret girlfriend backstage in theirbdressing room and either one of them are on a time limit to start their match? love your writing <3

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!

‼️smut, soft!rhea, dom!rhea, no plot at all

5 minutes

rhea was supposed to be in the ring in less than ten minutes to confront dom and liv, continuing the feud between the judgment day. she knew she had a time limit and yet that didn’t stop her from having you laying on the black leather couch inside the dressing room with her kneeled between your legs.

“rhea…we have to go…” you whispered, trying to keep your moans low. you had a match later that night against liv morgan and time wasn’t a problem for you, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were naked, your make up all ruined and hair all messy. you were probably the one who took the most to get ready and you knew that twenty minutes weren’t enough for you to fix the mess rhea made.

“i don’t care…let me make you feel good baby…” she moaned against your pussy. she was addicted to you, like you were her personal drug.

“you’re opening the show in ten minutes rhea…” you brought a hand over your lips trying to keep your whimpers shut.

she left a soft kiss against your clit and chuckled “i only need five minutes to make you crumble under me, you can’t say no baby…” and she was right. she knew you too well, she knew your weak spots and her mouth on your pussy was one of those.

“fuck…okay…hurry though…” you heard her laughing against your skin when you tried to give her orders.

“bossy, aren’t we?” she smirked, tracing your entrance with her tongue, teasing you enough to make your legs shake but not enough to make you cum. her tongue moved skilfully against your clit, her hands over your thighs trying to keep you still and her eyes moving between your folds to your eyes. she loved seeing how hard it was for you to keep it quiet.

“ripley, four minutes” someone screamed outside banging on her door.

“i can make you cum in two…” she whispered, more to your pussy than you. she knew what she was doing, and she knew she was good at playing with you.

you almost screamed when he teeth slowly grazed over your swollen clit. your hand covering your mouth as it was becoming harder to keep it shut “oh shit…” you let a few whimpers out when rhea’s tongue added more pressure over your bundle of nerves.

she moaned, inhaling your scent “right there baby?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“mh…right there, please” it came out as a desperate cry and rhea loved every second of it. she knew your body in a way that you didn’t even know.

rhea alternating between softly kissing your clit and hardly biting and kissing it, the whole situation made your legs shake so much that not even rhea was able to keep your body down “you coming beautiful?”

you couldn’t even answer, too lost in the pleasure your girlfriend was giving you. your hands found her hair and you slightly pushed her even more against your pussy “oh fuck…rhea…” your moans were like melodies for her, she couldn’t get enough. one last flick of her tongue was enough to make you cum in her mouth, but rhea didn’t stop there.

she cleaned you up with her tongue, softly, taking her sweet time to ride you through your orgasm. when you calmed down, she rose up from her knees and she helped you sitting more comfortably on the couch. some tears spilled as you came and rhea noticed your smudged make up. she smiled to herself, bringing a hand to wipe some of those remaining tears as she softly kissed your head “i’ll take good care of you tonight, i promise…” and you believed her, because no matter how rough and mean rhea was to you in bed, she always took time to make you feel safe and to take care of you, especially in those vulnerable states.

“i know…” your voice was barely a whisper.

“i have a show to open…” she smirked, fixing her make up quickly and leaving the room. leaving you there, looking like a mess and sitting naked on the couch as you watched her making her big entrance with her usual cocky smile.

your focus went to the match you had against liv morgan that same night and when you stood up from your sitting position, your looked yourself into the mirror and noticed how ruined your hair and make up were.

“fuck!” you almost screamed, looking at the time and trying to get yourself together before the start of your match.

rhea did a good job on you and you were kinda proud of how she handled you but she left you in a horrible state and you weren’t so sure that you were gonna be able to fix it.

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inthehouseoffinwe · 2 days

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I sometimes think about Fingolfin being the sole Uncle looking after all his nephews/niece/kids. Like, there’s 16 children. Before taking the Helcaraxë he no doubt promised Finarfin that he would take care of them. And I feel like once he found out about Fëanor, and especially saw the state of Maedhros, he silently promised his half brother he’d do his best to look after them too. Not that he wasn’t going to anyway.

But the burden that must have been, especially with how volatile and independant all these kids are. Oh they might be grown. But he’ll never see them as such. Even now he remembers Nelyo’s birth and how the baby would toddle after him, crying when it was time to leave. Curvo going through all his mechanical devices, Turukano right behind him as Fingolfin explained where each came from and listened to the children tell him all about the workings. Carnistir carefully running little hands over the embroidery of his cloak, Anairë laughing quietly and explaining the techniques that went into it. Ambarussa and all the chaos they caused, enough so that Fëanor and Nerdanel would dump them at his house for days at a time, usually a couple of brothers tagging along. Tyelko and Irissë wrestling in the mud, neither group of parents knowing what to do when they trudged in, a sticky trail behind them.

Findekáno’s duets with Makalaurë, the little musician quietly asking to play before his uncle and cousin to make sure it was perfect before he showed his father. Finno, Nelyo, and Findarato encouraging him with whoops, Fingolfin and Anairë applauding with wide smiles at the end as he was swarmed by his cousins and brother. The four’s ‘secret’ sleepovers whenever they were in the same place. Aikanaro and Angamaitë raiding his kitchens, Fingolfin joining in with a finger on his lips, helping steal pastries in the middle of the night. Artanis insisting she could join in whatever game his boys were playing, Ireth backing her with a scowl until they were let in. Little Orodreth and his own Arakano, friends since birth. The screams of delight whenever they saw each other.

Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, he doesn’t know. All of them are now his children. He couldn’t stop the Fëanorions from taking the most dangerous lands because he had no argument to give. He can’t stop Turno and Ingo from making hidden kingdoms and taking Ireth and Artaresto with them. He couldn’t save little Arakano. He can’t stop Artanis hiding in Doriath, although he’s grateful at least one of his kids is safe… even if that safety comes with disowning the rest of her family.

He can’t even protect little Tyelpë and Itarillë who never asked for any of this.

So when the Dagor Bragollach comes and he hears Aegnor and Angrod are definitely dead, Curufin, Celegorm, and Celebrimbor might as well be for the trail of bodies leading to Doriath and the mass murder at the Girdle, Maglor’s land has been burned so far beyond recognition, they can’t even *find* bodies, Turgon, Idril, and Aredhel he wouldn’t even know if they were killed, and he hasn’t heard from Finrod in months-

He can’t.

So he makes a last ditch attempt because maybe, just maybe, he can make their battle the slightest bit easier. Give his kids if any of them survive a weakness to exploit. A slight advantage to turn the tables…

A stab to the foot does the trick. Morgoth will be limping on that one for millennia.

He hopes his brothers can forgive him.

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writeonwhiskey · 2 days

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the skz house: ch 25

a/n: ahhhh we're back, baby! i am so excited to get the final completed chapters out to you all. thank you to @bahablastplz for editing!

[ read chapter 24 here ]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Of Popcorn and Reuniting

I need some time.

Can we talk on Monday?

You type out and delete several variations of your text to Chan before finally hitting send on the ride home. You considered acquiescing to his request, but you know how it would end; with you in his arms, then bent over as he fucks all his love into you. You want to kiss him, touch him, to feel him inside of you after what he so succinctly confessed with that rose and card. He wants you. He would choose you.

You want to roll down the windows and scream into the night at the top of your lungs. You contain yourself, though. You suppress the giddy feeling each time it arises, keeping it at bay with reasonable logic: you cannot let him choose you.

It pains you to even think that. Especially when you can see how much he is trying…the effort he’s putting forth is not lost on you. You know how out of his comfort zone he must be, and it feels utterly shitty to shut down his attempts and potentially lose all the progress you’ve made with him.

Of course it moves you, knowing he would throw aside everything for you, but now is when you need to be stronger than him. You have to give yourself time to prepare for this conversation—you know it won’t be easy. Waiting to speak to him on Monday will give you that time. It’s always easier to process your thoughts when you’re not in his intoxicating presence. And anyways, if his feelings are as strong as he’s saying, a few days of waiting shouldn’t deter them.

Over the next few days, you spend most of your spare time sorting through your thoughts and feelings surrounding the Chan debacle, and whenever it feels too overwhelming you can turn to Changbin for a distraction. He’s good for that. However, you’ve learned enough about Aristotle and his belief in moral virtues to last a lifetime. You spend the final Saturday of the rotation with him, staying up and talking about whatever crosses either of your minds.

He jokingly suggests taking things further since this is your last chance. In truth, after the consistent sex you were getting with Hyunjin and Chan, your body is aching for it, but you politely turn him down. You know it’s not aching for him in particular.

On Sunday the house is once again abuzz as everyone shuffles their belongings back to their proper rooms. Chan is, to your surprise, still fast asleep around noon when you take your sheets and clothes back to his room. You quietly make your bed and put your clothes aways before retrieving your stuff from Seungmin’s room and taking it to Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin is seated at his desk with his headphones on, scribbling away on his sketchpad when you enter. Your hands are full of your blankets and a bag of your clothes is slung over your shoulder. His wide, dazzling smile greets you when the door swings open and you feel like an invisible weight is instantly lifted.

“Welcome back,” he says, standing to help you with all that you’re carrying.

He takes the blankets from you and tosses them onto your bed. You take the bag off your shoulder and set it on the ground as he turns back around to face you. He opens his arms to you and you take a few small steps forward into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his slender waist, squeezing tightly.

“Jagiya,” he whispers against the top of your head.

“I missed this,” you tell him.

As safe as you felt with Changbin and Seungmin, it doesn’t hold a flame to what you feel with Hyunjin. In the near-constant emotional storm you have felt during your time at the SKZ house, he has always been your saving grace. The only thing that keeps you grounded in the chaos.

You feel somewhat bad about it, though—he’s always the shoulder that you lean and cry on, and none of it has ever been because of his actions. It’s always something else. Always Chan. You could release the floodgates and cry right now, hugged up to him, but you don’t want to do that. It’s not fair to him, always having to pick up the pieces.

“Me too,” he agrees.

When you finally step away from the embrace, you motion to the work on his desk.

“Don’t let me distract you.”

He looks down at you and cups your face in his hands. He looks over your face and you wish you didn’t feel so transparent in front of him. He knows. How could he not? You scrunch up your face and shake your head, pushing the tears and sad thoughts aside. Not today. Not on your first day back with him.

He arches an eyebrow in response, but you continue shaking your head defiantly.

“Fine.” he says.

He squeezes your cheeks together, forcing your lips into a fish shape, and kisses them. You can’t help but laugh and swat him away, making him laugh too as he holds his arms up to block your attack.

Maybe it’s not right to push everything down and pretend you’re okay—that nothing has happened to send you into a tailspin. But with Hyunjin…it doesn’t feel like pretending. He genuinely makes you forget that any strife in the world exists when you’re with him.

“Can we get out of the house later?”

“Sure. What do you want to do?” he asks, sitting back at his desk as you start to put the sheets on your bed.

“Anything, really,” you shrug.

He gives you a reassuring nod and smile before turning back to his sketchbook. He starts to put his headphones back on, then stops. He picks up the Bluetooth speaker on his desk and powers it on. Within seconds, ‘Ghost’ by Mystery Skulls starts blaring throughout the room as you get your things situated and he focuses back on his drawing.

You catch yourself dancing around to the song as you tidy up. When you lock eyes with him, he’s vibing to it as well and you both smile and giggle.

It’s distractingly loud and peaceful in here with him.

Later in the afternoon, the cloudy sky and light drizzle makes it difficult for you and Hyunjin to choose something to do. You both eventually settle on going to see a movie, but it takes another thirty minutes after that to decide what to watch. Hyunjin picks a film called Miller’s Girl, and buys the tickets from his phone. You grab a warm blanket then you both head out.

The theatre is one of the upgraded kinds with large, reclining seats. You get popcorn and drinks before going into the designated room. It’s just the two of you, but you assume others will show up at some point. However, when the previews finish and the movie starts, no one else has come.

“Got the whole place to ourselves,” you remark.

“Come here, then,” he says, taking the popcorn from you and reaching for your hand.

You let him pull you up and over the large armrest separating your seats, bringing your blanket with you. He holds the popcorn out of the way as you get comfortable and spread the blanket out, so it covers both of you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, holding you against him.

Since you’re alone, you’re both free to talk without fear of annoying anyone. The film is quite interesting—very poetic, which Hyunjin seems to take a liking to. Eventually, your mind starts to stray from the plot, focusing more on how close you are to him…and how long it’s been since you touched him. You slide your left hand under the blanket and onto his thigh. You can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye. You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling and remain facing the screen.

He moves the popcorn from his lap and puts it on the empty seat next to him.

“Do you remember what happened last time we went out to watch a movie?” you ask playfully as your hand glides over his cock, above his jeans.

“I have a faint memory,” he replies.

“Just a faint one?” you turn to face him.

He leans forward and captures your lips in one fell swoop. You kiss him back, relishing the familiar feeling of his soft, plump lips against yours. The taste is a little salty and buttery, but good. You feel his cock twitch against your hand and take that as an invitation to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper.

He breaks the kiss and reclines the chair a little more, allowing you better access to him. You bring your hand up to your mouth and spit in it before slipping it back beneath the blanket to wrap around his cock. It pulses in your tight grip as you start to stroke him slowly.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Let me touch you, too.”

“No,” you shake your head, stroking him faster.

“But I want to feel you.”

“You will later.”

You hear him smack his lips as he rests his head against the chair. He rocks his hips upwards while you continue stroking him. You’re tempted to toss the blanket aside so you can see him, take him in your mouth and then fuck him. You’ll be patient, though. You just want to please him right now.

“Y/n,” he whispers. “I can’t—where am I gonna—?”

You feel his stomach muscles start to convulse as he attempts to hold off his release. You hadn’t thought that part through, and you don’t have much time to come up with a plan. You lift the blanket and duck your head beneath it, quickly taking him in your mouth.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he pants.

You move your hand and mouth in tandem along his cock as he starts to come. You feel his hand grip the back of your neck trying to keep you still, but you keep moving, taking in every last drop.

When he stops shaking you swallow and lift your head from the blanket. With his hand still on your neck he brings you to him again, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on you.

You break the kiss this time, smiling at him as you pull away. He throws himself back against the chair, breathing heavily.

“What are we even watching?” he jokes.

You zip and button his pants back up before snuggling into his side again.

When the movie is over, he practically pulls you out of the theatre, through the lobby and to the exit doors. You can see through the glass doors right away—the light drizzle has turned into an all-out downpour. You plant your feet to stop him from pulling you outside.

“We’re gonna get drenched, Hyunjin,” you tell him, shaking your head.

He turns to face you, eyebrow arched, “You don’t like getting wet anymore? What did Seungmin and Changbin do to you?”

You slap him on the arm and roll your eyes.

“Come on, we can’t stay in here forever,” he coaxes.

“Okay, okay,” you agree with a sigh.

He pushes on the door and looks back at you once more. You nod for him to continue. He opens the door completely and you both make a mad dash for the car. When you’re halfway there, though, Hyunjin abruptly stops this time. You try to tug on his hand to get him to the car, but he doesn’t budge.

“Hyunjin, move your feet!”

He shakes his head and uses your intertwined hands to bring you to him. He rests his hands on your hips as he leans down to kiss you. The rain is coming down over both of you. Your hair, clothes, everything is completely drenched and it’s not even warm rain, it’s fucking freezing. But none of those concerns are the most pressing thing on your mind right now. While kissing him and getting cleansed by the rain, it feels like time is standing still. You’re so enraptured in this moment with him, that all else fades away.

In celebration of rotations ending, the grill is fired up in the backyard that night. It’s still a bit cold out and damp, but nothing like it was on New Year’s. You and the other girls work on side dishes in the kitchen while the boys cook up the meat. Through the back door you can see Chan manning the grill while the others mostly just sit around and watch—Lee Know helps occasionally.

“Anyone else happy things are going back to normal?” Charlotte asks.

All of you nod your heads.

“As great as Jeongin and Han are, I kind of missed Seungmin and Changbin,” Rhiannon admits.

“You’re one of our bravest soldiers, dealing with those two,” you tell her with a laugh.

“They really are a handful, aren’t they?”

“Their intentions are good, at least,” you tell her to which she nods her agreement.

“Y/n, can you bring the steak out here? And grab a plate to bring some of this other meat in.”

You’re surprised to see Chan’s head peeking through the partially opened sliding back door. A familiar erratic heartbeat returns.

“He wants you to grab his meat—he must have really missed you,” Allie teases.

The other girls laugh with her. They know nothing of the tension you’re feeling right now. You force a small smile and attempt a chuckle, but it sounds strained. You step past Charlotte at the stove and retrieve the meat from the fridge, then head to the backyard. You hand Chan the empty Pyrex dish first and he starts piling the cooked meat onto it.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod.

“So, you’re not staying with me tonight, then?”

You shake your head in response to his question.

He sets the plate of cooked meat next to the grill, as you hold the tray of steak. You expected him to take the tray, but instead he takes each piece of meat off individually as you hold it.

“Did you lose your voice while you were away?”

“No,” you reply softly.

He takes the last piece of steak from the tray, but his eyes are on you the entire time. When you finally meet his gaze, you see a glimmer of something there…worry perhaps, as he watches you. It’s not your intention to be cold towards him right now, you’re just caught off guard by this interaction.

“We’ll talk more Monday,” you tell him. “I promise.”

“Do you miss me?” he asks, handing you the Pyrex dish of cooked meats.

“Of course I do.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips hearing that.

Since you and Hyunjin already showered, after coming home wet from the rain, you change into your pajamas and brush your teeth when dinner is over, then meet Hyunjin in his room. He’s already laying in bed, beneath the blanket without a shirt on. His eyes are focused on his phone when you enter, but he immediately tosses it to the side and smiles when he sees you.

“Finally,” he says, still grinning.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask, feigning innocence.

You place your dirty clothes into your shared laundry basket before crawling onto his bed.

“Yeah. For two long weeks,” he tells you, pulling you to him as soon as you’re within reach.

“And what were you expecting to happen?”

You’re laying across his body at an angle, arms folded on top of his bare chest.

“Oh, you know…nothing in particular,” he says, his hand already slipping beneath your shirt to caress your back.

“Good. Because it’s shark week.”

He furrows his brow at that.

“It shouldn’t be until next week?”

You crack a smile—so he has kept track on the app you shared with him.

Seeing your reaction, he quickly flips over so that he’s on top of you.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He whispers into your ear before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. “Knowing how much I’ve wanted you.”

“I thought it was a little funny,” you shrug.

“Not even a little bit,” he says, pushing your shirt up above your breasts.

As soon as your nipples are exposed, his mouth is on them. Taking in one, sucking and circling it with his tongue, then the other. He kisses between your breasts, then down your stomach, past your navel. When he makes it to your shorts, he doesn’t even bother pulling them down. He yanks them to the side, peeking up at you when he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear.

“Just as pretty as I remember,” he says, returning his attention to your pussy and kissing around your folds.

You want to lean back on the pillows for comfort and close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but you also want to keep watching him. You’ve missed the sight of him between your legs.

He sticks his tongue out and delivers a hard and slow lick up your slit before blowing cool air over it. A shiver courses through you, and you thrust your hips up towards his mouth, but he moves away.

You assume there will be more teasing to follow, but he dives straight back in, covering your pussy with his mouth. He alternates swirling his tongue around your clit and fucking you with it. You finally throw your head back against the pillow and get lost in the sound of him sucking and slurping you up. You grip the sheets with your hands, still attempting to rock your hips against his face.

He pulls away to readjust himself so he can use his other hand on you. He slides his fingers through your slick to coat them before pushing them inside of you. His heated gaze meets yours as he fingers you and you smile up at him lazily, lustfully, and adoringly at all once.

You beckon him towards you with a curl of your finger and he obliges, leaning down over you with his fingers still pumping in and out. You spread your legs a little further apart to accommodate him on top of you and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull him down to you and taste yourself on him as his tongue invades your mouth.

He applies pressure to your clit with his thumb, causing you to moan.

“I need you to fuck me, Hyunjin,” you pant between kisses.

“Not yet,” he replies. “I want two from you tonight.”

He moves back, sitting on his legs. You can see the determination in his eyes as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His other hand cups your breast, kneading it and pinching your nipple.

“Can you do two for me, jagiya?”

You nod your head, unable to speak.

He readjusts himself again and you’ve never been so thankful for his long limbs and dexterity. He keeps one hand on your breast, the other is thrusting three fingers in and out of you, and then his mouth is on your clit again to bring you to the edge.

Your hands fly to his head, tangling themselves in his dark hair. You’re pulling on the strands while simultaneously pushing his face harder against your rocking hips.

“There she is,” he chuckles, his mouth rubbing against you as he speaks. “Come on my fingers.”

He latches back onto your clit, sucking it rhythmically. You grit your teeth and moan, arching your back as you come on his fingers.

The waves of your orgasm continue even as he withdraws his fingers and puts them in his mouth to lick clean. You watch him in a haze. Your legs are still shaking when he finally pulls your pajama shorts down. You’re trying to catch your breath as he removes his boxers, but there’s hardly any time before he’s thrusting his hard cock in your pussy.

“Oh, fuck, Hyunjin,” you cry out.

“I want two,” he says again.

He hooks your legs on his shoulders and grips your thighs for leverage as he fucks you. He angles his hips, allowing his cock to touch your most sensitive spot with each thrust.

“You feel so good, jagi,” he coaxes. “So fucking tight. So wet.”

He’s bearing a mischievous smile as he looks down at you. He knows what he’s doing to you—with his body, with his words. He knows you won’t last long like this.

Hell, even just looking at the consistent flexing of his abdomen as he fucks you just about does you in.

“I want to be on top,” you tell him, placing your hands on his chest to halt his movements.

You let your legs fall from his shoulders and he rolls over so he’s laying down and you’re on top of him without needing to pull out. You plant your feet firmly on the bed and start to bounce up and down on his cock. He lets out a groan and brings his hands to your hips, gripping them.

His eyes move from your face to your bouncing tits, down to where your bodies are connected. Feeling like the object of his desire is a feeling you’ll never get tired of. You can see it on his face—he likes this. He likes fucking you, pleasing you.

And with him, it’s easy. There aren’t any buried emotions to deal with. You can just enjoy the way you make each other feel. These moments you share with him; you can truly understand what the purpose of the SKZ house is. It’s a system that can work when other feelings don’t get in the way. The type of feelings that have brought you and Chan to an impasse.

You don’t realize your thoughts have drifted so much until you feel Hyunjin’s hand cupping your face.

“On me,” he says simply.

You nod, focusing your attention back on him.

How can he read you so easily? And be so unfazed, so understanding? You were blessed to have him as Chan’s counterpart in this. Truly.

You place your hands on his chest again, using his body to help you bounce up and down on his cock. His grip on your hips tightens and at first, he helps lift you up but then he pulls you all the way down and keeps you there.

“I need a second,” he tells you.

You smirk at that and start to grind on him. His hands make their way from your waist up to your breast. He squeezes both of them as his eyes roll back, and you know you have him right where you want him.

“Does that feel good?” You tease, moving your hips in slow circles.

He responds by snapping his eyes open and dropping a hand to press his thumb against your clit. A small gasp escapes your lips, and you grind against him harder. With each move of your hips, his cocks touches every part of you.

He’s working your clit with fervor, causing you to moan again as you feel the familiar sensation of another orgasm brewing within you.

“No,” you exhale. “I want you to come too.”

“I could have several minutes ago,” he admits.

You chuckle at that.

“Together?”

“Mmm,” he moans his agreement, placing his other hand back on your hip.

He grips it tightly once again and you resume bouncing on him. He keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing it as you fuck him.

Looking down at him, you feel lucky to have this experience with him. He’s so kind, so caring, so giving. There’s no way you could repay him for all he’s done for you and all that he’s taught you. But you can, at least, please him.

From the look on his face, you can tell he’s close. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, gaze stuck on the sight of your body rising and falling on his cock.

You slide one of your hands up to his neck and squeeze it lightly.

“On me,” you repeat his words from earlier.

He fixes his eyes on yours, and you stare back just as intently.

He brings his hand up to cover yours, applying more pressure to your grip on his neck. He gives a subtle nod before moving his hand back to your hips. You squeeze tighter as your legs begin to shake again.

“Now?” He asks.

“Yes, come with me,” you tell him.

He thrusts his hips upwards to meet yours every time, as he spills inside of you. You feel the walls of your pussy clench around his cock as you come, too.

When you both finish, you release his neck and collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around your back, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. He turns so that you’re both laying on your side, and you feel his softening cock leave your body.

He lifts up for a second and finds his boxers. He uses it to clean you up before tossing them onto the ground. He pulls you as close to him as possible. You hook a leg around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

You’re happy with him. You wish you could stay wrapped up safely in his embrace and avoid what you must face tomorrow. But you know you’ve put it off long enough.

a/n: some much need hyunjin time. she needed a break before diving in to that conversation with Chan. more coming soon! if you'd like to sign up for the mailing list you can do so [ here ]. thank you to the 71 souls that have signed up already, ilysm.

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lupinsweater · 1 day

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hey gorgeous! rly love your writing!!!!!!!! so, the thing is, im with a horrible (emphasis on horrible) throat inflammation, those that even swallowing saliva hurts and eating solid food makes you cry, you know. I would love to see how Remus would comfort me in this situation!

Hope your doing well, xoxooooo

hi love! i’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well😢 being sick is the worst, especially with a sore throat! we all need a remus to comfort us…i hope this helps you feel a little better!🤎

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader 💌 1.3k words

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

It was a chilly autumn morning when you woke up with a weight in your chest and a terrible ache in your throat. The blankets on your bed were tangled around your legs, and your sheets were damp with cold sweat. The first swallow you took felt like sandpaper, dry and painful, as though you’d spent the night screaming or partying instead of sleeping. Your head felt heavy on your shoulders as you slowly propped yourself up and rubbed your eyes- a dull throb behind them warned you of an oncoming headache.

You groaned softly as you charmed some water into the glass on your bedside table, wincing at the rawness in your throat. It wasn’t the kind of sore throat that you could ignore, or the kind that would go away with your glass of water and a little more rest. This was something much worse; this was the kind that told you today was going to be long and uncomfortable. The last thing you needed right now was to be getting sick, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now. You knew classes would begin soon, and nervous to miss anything, you forced yourself out of bed, cleaning yourself up as best as you could before making your way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

By the time you sat down at the Gryffindor table, your friends were already eating and the scratch in your throat had gotten worse. Sirius waved at you, and Remus turned to look in your direction as you slid into the seat next to him.

“Good morning,” Remus said, his smile soft and familiar. He offered you a mug of hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully.

“Morning,” you replied, though your voice was rougher than usual. You cleared your throat, hoping it would pass quickly. Remus, however, noticed immediately- his brows furrowed as you took a sip from your mug, his gaze lingering on you.

“You okay?” he asked. His concern was always close to the surface with you. Not wanting to worry him, you gave him a small smile.

“Just a bit of a sore throat,” you murmured, helping yourself to a muffin as you drained your mug. “It’s really nothing.”

Remus didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide, though you could tell he was keeping a closer eye on you than usual as you finished your meal. He hovered behind you through the corridors on the way to class, and he asked clarifying questions during Charms when he noticed your face scrunch in confusion at one of the instructions.

As the morning went on, you found yourself talking less and less, each word starting to feel more painful than the last. Remus watched you quietly, his eyes flickering with concern, but he didn’t push. By the time you reached your last class of the morning, the scratch in your throat had turned into a deep ache. You did your best to ignore it, pushing through the lecture as best as you could, but your voice was starting to strain more than ever, and your head was pounding painfully. You could barely hear Professor McGonagall over the dull thudding in your ears.

When the bell rang, Remus was quick to pack his things up. He helped you gather your things and ushered you out the door. You’d never seen him this eager to get to lunch before- your stomach was growling, but you didn’t have much of an appetite. Remus dragged you up the stairs and towards Gryffindor tower, and you pulled back on him, frowning.

“Wait, wait. Where are we going? Don’t you want lunch?” You croaked, looking at him with confusion. You knew the full moon was coming up, and his appetite was always insatiable during that time of the month. Remus just shook his head, tugging on your arm gently. Exasperated, you followed, allowing him to guide you back to the common room and sit you down by the fire.

“Okay, what’s this about?” You said in a half-whisper, folding your arms over your chest as you sunk into the squashy armchair.

“You clearly aren’t feeling well, dove,” Remus said, giving you a pointed look. You sighed, bringing a hand up to massage your nose bridge to relieve some strain from your headache.

“I know I’m not,” you grumbled hoarsely, meeting his eyes reluctantly. “It’s not like I have a lot of options here, Rem. I can’t afford to miss class, and I have assignments to hand in. And you know how much I hate taking Pepperup Potions- I just can’t handle the steam coming out of my ears, it makes me feel all funny.”

“I’m not going to ask you to take a Pepperup Potion,” Remus said, his expression a mix between amusement and mild annoyance. “Just wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You knew he was just trying to look out for you, and you could already feel the tension leaving your shoulders as you soaked up the warmth from the fire. Remus raised an eyebrow at you, and you gave a small nod in return, knowing protesting wouldn’t do much anyways, as it was obvious he had already made up his mind.

You weren’t sure how long he was gone- you’d felt your eyelids begin to droop, and you were in a pre-sleep daze when he re-entered the common room, holding a tray of sandwiches and a teapot. Remus placed the food on the table in front of you, and shuffled over to the cabinet in the corner of the room and produced some plates and teacups, which he brought back over to you. He poured some tea into the teacup, then placed it in your hands, brushing some hair away from your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead that made you feel pleasantly warm.

“Here, drink this, dove. Honey and lemon. It will help,” he said, putting a few sandwiches on a place and setting it in front of you. You sat up blearily, taking slow sips of the tea. It really did feel soothing on your throat.

Remus sat down beside you, and the two of you ate your sandwiches in silence. He refilled your teacup twice, watching you with worried eyes.

“You really should go rest,” he said finally, his tone gentle but serious. “Your throat is only going to get worse if you keep pushing it, and you look awfully tired.”

You opened your mouth, prepared to argue your case again, but Remus gave you a soft, knowing look that made you close it again.

“Don’t worry about classes. I’ll take notes for you and hand in your assignments,” he said reassuringly. “Just go rest for me, okay?”

There was no point in fighting it any more. You knew he was right, and the warmth in his voice made you feel like it was okay to let him help you, just this once. You nodded, unable to do much else, and Remus smiled tenderly at you.

“I’ll come check on you later,” he promised, watching you carefully as you stood up. There was something in the way that he was looking at you that made you feel at ease. It wasn’t just worry—it was something closer, warmer. Maybe you weren’t ready to name it yet, but it was there, in every small, thoughtful gesture, and in the way he said, “Take care of yourself, dove,” as you climbed the stairs up and out of sight.

As you made your way back to your dorm to rest, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for the tea, but for the quiet way Remus always seemed to know how to take care of you, without you even having to ask.

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