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#Goodbye im on the floor that was SO soft
moonilit · 10 months
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“Tell me about Kanver,”
Self-Immolation By @itsjustliah, chapter 14
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m00ngbin · 4 months
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If some teacher calls another false lockdown I'm going to have a heart attack and when I do I need someone to sue whoever's calling these into the ground
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junkie-virus · 1 year
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i ahet periods like why am i literally crying and shaking on ghe avhool bathrpom floor. amd them also having to deal with ppl that dont ebelieve im in teal pain.
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
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satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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shotmrmiller · 27 days
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Uninvited, Unexpected.
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a/n: it's nice until the very end. it hints at baby trapping. one solid sentence that's kinda degrading (i couldn't help myself ok) this was in the works for so long, i did so much research just to use words. english is hard. and ignore the plot holes, for my sake. my sanity.
this is SMUT. 18+mdni please (if im missing anything else, lmk)
ty to my wonderful beta readers @waves-against-a-cliff & @xoxunhinged
wc: 3,1K
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader
my contribution to the @glitterypirateduck ghost challenge. idc if i wrote it much earlier lol.
You're awoken by a loud noise. At first, you think you dreamt it. Exploding head syndrome, maybe. You strain your hearing but it's quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, its old bones creaking in the dead of night. Rain gently patters against the windows, blurring the world outside.
A flash of sudden light illuminates the bedroom, casting elongated shadows across the floor, followed by a loud crack that rattles the glass. Thunder. You should've guessed.
The frantic beating of your heart slows to a gentle roll, and your eyes leaden with sleep. The soft pillows beckon, the warm blankets cradle you as you sink back onto the mattress.
Only for you to be snapped back into reality, drowsiness dissipating like a morning mist.
Someone's knocking on your door.
Your heart is in your throat as you quickly peel off the blankets, the chill of the floorboards underneath your bare feet seeping into your bones.
In the bookshelf sits the gun Simon had given you before he had moved out, the rumble of his voice a ghost in your ear. "For protection," he'd murmured, placing the cold metal onto your open palms. "Jus' in case."
Your trembling fingers fumble as you search for it in the dark, flinching as a couple of books spill from the shelf onto the floor, pages rustling in your urgency.
The knocking persists.
The metal of the grip is unyielding in your clammy hands. You've never tested it before, never had the displeasure. As you hold it close to your chest with a quivering breath, you hope tonight won't change that.
Simon's instructions echo in your mind as you approach the front door. "Thumb the safety. Hold the grip with both hands. Do not, under any circumstance, put your finger on the trigger unless you're plannin' on sendin' hate. Clear?"
Your throat tightens, a phantom snake coiling around the narrow passage, and panic grips your heart as you reach for the blinds, slowly hooking two fingers and carefully pulling down to look at who is—
Simon.
Simon?
Sweat-slick fingers flip the light switch before quickly undoing the locks, the hinges groaning in protest as the door opens.
"What the hell?"
It's Simon, disheveled— maskless— swaying on his feet. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused. Johnny's holding him up by the arm, struggling to keep him upright.
"S'ry, bonnie. We wen' out fer a few 'nd clearly, he's out 'is face. Quite crabbit, too. He said ye'd let 'em sleep 'ere," he slurs.
Simon's not the only one who's pissed. With a resigned sigh, you gesture at the couch with your free hand. "There, I guess."
That he thought of you even in his drunken haze tugs at your fragile heartstrings.
Johnny guides him to the catch, a quiet C'mon LT to spur him forward. Heavy boots thud against the floor as they stumble toward the living room while you carefully place the gun on the kitchen countertop before reaching for a water bottle in the pantry. Johnny snickers under his breath as Simon collapses onto the sofa, the springs protesting his weight.
Two bottles, then.
You watch Simon's head loll as you hand Johnny the water. "Tell me you aren't the one driving, Johnny," you grumble.
He takes it with a quiet thanks. "Naw. Cap'n's stone cold sober."
Small mercies.
Johnny gives Simon a rough slap to the side of his leg as he bids him goodbye, pulling you in for an embrace tight enough that your spine pops before walking out the door.
You let out another sigh as the lock clicked back into place. The tangy, sour scent of stale alcohol mixed with stings at your nose, as does the invasive smell of smoke.
His boots are mud-caked, and you'll be damned if he stains your nice furniture with his mess. "Shoes off." He groans but complies. The laces come undone quickly, and you tug his shoes off with a grunt. "Simon."
His glassy eyes meet yours. "Drink your water." The burning need to chuck it at his head is one you have to vehemently smother into embers. Moron. Only Simon would have the gall to show up unannounced months after the separation. And drunk.
You push the bottle into his chest roughly and make to go back to bed when he encircles his hand around your wrist and the world spins on its axis, suddenly finding yourself beneath him with his face nestled in the crook of your neck.
Simon's breath is hot against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down so achingly familiar. It stirs up past memories that would have you pressing your thighs together if he wasn't right there, using his broad waist to spread them apart.
"Missed ya, love." A confession. "S'much."
The breath you draw is jagged, his slow-spoken words hanging in the air. You want to push him away, scream at him for stumbling in and disrupting your night, your rest, your carefully crafted peace. But there's a part of you that can't help but soften at the tenderness in his tone.
"Simon," you whisper. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying—" his lips find your fluttering pulse. You find purchase in his shirt, shaky fingers grasping at the hem.
"'M drunk, no' no liar." Your resolve wavers. No, he never had been. Honesty hadn't been the reason for the split. It wasn't the truth he'd spoken but the truths he'd kept to himself. A fortress around his heart, the bridge to its gates raised. Unwilling to share a burden, share a life.
His warm tongue licks a hot stripe up your neck reaching the lobe of your ear where his blunt teeth sink into it. A choked gasp spills from your mouth, spine arching in reflex— your treacherous body remembering his touch, yearning for it.
"Simon—" your words get caught in your throat; snag like fishhooks when he undulates his hips, arousal creeping along your veins like ivy.
"Don't ya miss me, pet?" You've asked him to not call you that because it never fails to stoke the fire in your belly, to sodden your knickers. Before you can chide him on his choice of words, he shifts. One arm, an inked column under the soft light of the living room, holds him up just enough to bring his rugged face into focus. His eyes, like a stormy night's sky, swirl with untamed desire.
You know it's dangerous to play with fire. Touch it and burn, ache, blister. But the passion of this old flame beckons like a siren with sharp teeth. Each drag of his prominent erection against your core only succeeds in pulling you away from the shore of clarity. It's disorienting, insistent.
Relentless.
"My pretty little love," he mumbles. Simon's gaze drags from your glassy eyes to the delicate contours of your collarbone. His fingers trace lines of intimacy onto the swell of your breasts before using the pad of his thumb to swirl the stiffened peak of your nipple. "Say the word 'nd it all stops."
The scent of alcohol clings to him, a bitter reminder of the loss of inhibitions it brings as it warms one's chest. Blurred lines he might not mind, but you do. Lost boundaries. Rejection sits on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your teeth when he says something that frays the last threads of your resolve.
It comes undone.
"Please. Jus' tonigh'. All I need." His words sound like footsteps in winter mire, slushed, syllables blending together.
You'll just have to kick him out on his arse in the morning.
"Okay," you breathe. Just one night, you tell yourself. He's always been good to you in the bedroom. One last hurrah wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll allow you to finally close this painful chapter in your life and start anew, with pristine white pages and fresh ink.
Your hands, trembling with nerves and anticipation, cradle his face. The roughness of his stubble in contrast with the softness of your palms is grounding, keeping you from being pulled under your own swirling emotions.
" 'M righ' 'ere, love. You're safe with me, always." He whispers the last words reverently, a vow. Simon's breath mingles with yours as he leans in for a kiss.
The world around you fades, your senses tunneled on the feel of his lips, the taste of him— mildly sweet with a hint of peppermint. He slants his head to deepen the kiss, and the bruising ache in your heart is replaced by another, one that burns brightly and threatens to sweep you away.
The lulling sound of the pouring rain outside is drowned out by the beating of your racing heart.
The bed creaks when Simon perches you on the edge of it, quietly ordering you to take your top off.
"What about my bottoms?" You bite down on the gummy inside of your cheek when he pins you in place with a look— a predator eyeing its prey.
"Those are mine." Resounding. Final. A gavel in a courtroom.
You fling your shirt off, tossing it into some forgotten corner in the room, and cheekily watch Simon undress. It's not methodical like it used to be. No longer a means to an end. Experienced fingers undo the buckle of his belt before he takes it off, the leather material snapping in the air, slicing through the silence.
A quip tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can stop it. "Gonna spank me with that?"
The air around you thickens— or thins, you can't be sure— when his eyes flash to you. He kicks off his jeans, one foot after the other, wobbling as he does. "Tha' wha' you want?" The words he didn't say ring out loud and clear.
Don't rattle the cage, sweetheart. This dog isn't muzzled.
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, something that he might take you up on, instead focusing on the way his heavy cock hangs in between legs (dangling with each step forward—)
"M'eyes are up 'ere." Your nose scrunches at his joke. Cute.
He lowers himself onto his knees, your legs cradling his face as it hovers over your sex, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your heated skin.
The sleeping shorts you're wearing are ratty and worn. They're thin too, practically translucent from constant use. Which means that he can see that you're not wearing any undergarments underneath.
"Hope you know I can—" Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, pooling in your cheeks as you cut him off with a snappy remark.
"Yes. I know."
The tip of his pointed tongue drags along the seam of your shorts, right along your slit. Your breath hitches, and you clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Your back bows involuntarily, the feeling startling, intense.
"Can see tha' clear as day, as if lookin' through a windowpane, pet," he taunts. The words that are forming, almost ready to spill out, freeze in place when his mouth comes in direct contact with your slippery cunt. He licks once, twice, through your folds, slightly dipping into your slick entrance, only pulling away to nuzzle your pearl with his misaligned nose.
"Sweet as a peach, jus' like I remember," he purrs, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your puffy lips. "Missed this." A mewl slithers past your grit teeth when he gently sinks one thick finger into you, curling and twisting. Arousal drips onto his knuckle, tracing a hot path down to his wrist. He coos at you when he adds another digit, hissing at the sharp but brief pinprick of the stretch.
"Bloody fuckin' tight." Simon rises off the floor, the quiet sound of his knees popping swallowed up by your harsh pants. "Gotta let me in, love. Relax."
He keeps the thrusts shallow, his fingers dragging deliciously along your nerve endings. The sting soon fades, giving way to a gentle warmth that unfurls inside of you, letting Simon reach deeper until—
Your muscles stiffen, tight like a spring when he brushes over the rough patch of skin that has bursts of light appearing across your eyelids.
"Look at ya. Droolin' like a mutt with my fingers stuffed up your pretty cunt."
There's a pressure in your lower belly that's steadily building with each sloppy thrust of his hand, pulling squelching noises from your sodden pussy. He finally, finally, latches onto your neglected clit, lightly sucking on it in tandem with his fingers.
Your chin drops to your chest as everything nears a breaking point. The pressure inside you has your body wound tight. The fibers of your muscles contract, almost painfully, preparing for the release of what's to come, what can't be ignored.
The swirling of his golden tongue pushes against the boundaries of your endurance, pushes you to the precipice, where you finally hit the point of no return. You can feel something about to give, ecstasy trickling through the cracks in your foundation, uncontrollable, raw. Your fingers thread through Simon's hair, curling tightly, pulling it taut when you feel something about to give—oh fuck—
Snap.
The structure that holds everything in place collapses.
A sudden release of pent-up energy and emotion erupts like a dam bursting, a cleansing flood that washes away the grime of old wounds, of bitterness, leaving the edges softened so they can heal; knit closed and scar over. Closure. It touches every part of you, filling you with a sense of liberation.
Your heart beats freely, it throbs with life as a wave of relief washes over you, soothing, a balm over scraped flesh, a rush of cool air into starved lungs.
A lightness that comes after being weighed down with burdens for so long.
Simon's hands encircle your arms firmly— fingers digging into the meat of your biceps— and effortlessly maneuvers you toward the center of the bed as if your lethargic form were a feather caught in a breeze; weightless, insignificant.
Gentle but unyielding.
There's a ringing in your ears that muffles his voice, blurring the edges of his words, an unintelligible hum, as if you were underwater. The sensation leaves you feeling adrift in a tranquil sea, cradled in its silken embrace. The only anchor you have to the muzzy reality is his warm touch.
"'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't," he apologizes, hooking your right leg over his shoulder. You let out a sibilant hiss as he leans forward, pushing your knee to your chest, the corded muscle of your hamstring pulling to its limit. "Can't wait anymore, 'm sorry."
Simon gives you a sloppy kiss as his heaving length prods at your swollen entrance, the tip breaching your pussy with a warm burn that starts from under your navel and only flares, radiating from your core outward. It's searing, the initial bite of the stretch disrupts the haze in your muddled mind, bringing the world around you into cutting clarity.
A guttural noise claws up his throat as Simon sheathes himself halfway, his growled words not the salve he was hoping for. It only grates at already raw nerves, abrasive.
"Jus' a little more, you can take it." He winds a hand downward to draw messy circles on your slippery clit, to stifle the roaring fire in your stomach, your chest. "You already have."
His jerky touch does its job, transforming the sharp burn of him wrenching your walls apart fiber by fiber into a quiet glow; smoldering heat now simmering. You soften, mellow and pliant, accept him into your body as he sinks to the hilt with a quiet groan.
"There's my girl. Takin' all of it like you were made f'me." Simon's words of praise tangle around your spine, electric, prickling. Your heart gallops like a herd of horses, wild and free. "Liked tha' did you? Jus' about strangled my cock with your tight cunt."
He rolls his hips once, twice, searching for signs of discomfort, but when only warm pleasure laps at your heels, when the barest of moans spill from your open lips, Simon begins to put his weight behind his thrusts.
Through half-lidded eyes, you see a raw, primal hunger reflected in his eyes— his soul, the one he'd claimed to have lost long ago, back with his reason, his sanity.
Yet he looks down at you as if you were his only salvation. A lifeline he grabs onto with an unyielding grip, his only tether to hope, purpose. A lighthouse shining in a raging storm, a beacon calling him home.
Simon presses a large hand onto your lower stomach, his work-worn palm pushing until you wince, brows furrowing at the fleeting whisper of pain.
"Can feel myself right here," he sluggishly mumbles, drunk of the feel of your cunt, the taste of your skin on his tongue— sweet like ripened figs. The sensory overload has him sinking his fingers into your flesh until it dimples.
He murmurs something under his taxed breath, something akin to mine, only mine as his lips leave a slick trail of saliva on the dip of your collarbone, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the thin, soft skin of your bicep up to your inner wrist, where he laps at your pulse.
As if savoring the present. The precious gift he's unwrapped, here and now. The last taste of you, which he hopes with a reverence that borders on prayer, lingers on his tongue long after the fruit— the sweet evidence of this one last intimacy— falls from the bough.
Simon comes with his teeth in the crook of your neck, biting down with a crushing pressure that has an acute pain digging its spurs into your consciousness, cutting the blazing euphoria of your own release short.
His cock is still twitching as he fills you with his spend when he takes his thumb and collects some of your slick to take you over the edge one last time.
"F'me. You can take it, yeah? I'll go slow, I promise."
Simon presses a kiss on your sweaty temple, his large hand cupping your jaw as he lazily watches you succumb to sleep, your breath evening out.
He reaches for your arm again, feeling for the birth control implant you'd had there when the both of you were still together.
Gone.
Sweet girl. You'd let him in without a fight. (He makes a mental note to wash the beer off of his clothes tomorrow.)
He knows your cycle better than the lines that are etched onto his palm. Better than the voice of the captain who rumbles in his earpiece, ordering him to go for the throat.
From the moment you'd stepped into his life with eternity in your eyes and the warmth of the sun on your lips, you were his. And he'll do anything to remain in your orbit.
(left unable to distinguish prison from paradise when each poison-coated kiss softens the world he'll build for you and for what's to come.)
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sugojosgf · 25 days
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nanami asking you out on a date
fluff, that's it. i don't think there's anything else here. based on my not so nice nanami hcs
you sigh, packing up all your things into the brown cardboard box that sits on the floor of your cubicle. you use packing tape to close it, only thing remaining on the table is a calendar and a desktop.
you knew you weren't going to continue working at that place after your internship, a little too intense and draining for your tastes. the corporate atmosphere wasn't really your cup of coffee, except for nanami who coincidentally was.
you were surprised though, and a little hurt. he hadn't come to give you coffee like usual but he also wasn't there to bid you farewell. you tried convincing yourself that he was probably just too busy for an intern like you.
that's when you hear a distant voice, a manager who you had the opportunity to work under, unfortunately. she was mean and obnoxious, using you like a personal slave instead of an intern. she would make you work for her personal endeavours and any refusal would have your internship threatened.
"nanami! a little late today, that's surprising for you!!" she giggles, you look over the cubicle and see her manicured nails travelling up his arm. he looked as handsome as always.
"you know, it is valentine's day today and i wanted you to have these chocolates." you look at the calendar and it was in fact, february 14th.
"oh,,," you hear nanami say. "im sorry, i actually have a date waiting for me." and your heart breaks a little. he holds a pretty bouquet of roses, wrapped with brown paper.
it was stupid you to think that him giving you coffee or his jacket actually meant something. he was grown, he probably liked women who knew what to do with their life.
you let a few tears slip and you wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. sniffling, you exit the office to head to your car.
it's evening and the soft sun basks you in warmth that feels like a mother's hug. you close the trunk and look back once to bid goodbye to your six months of hard work.
right before you get into your car, you hear someone yell your name. you turn back confused only to find yourself face to face with nanami.
"i thought you left," he pants, "thought i was too late." his usual hair-do has fallen apart, blond strands cover his forehead. his eyebrows creased, as he looks at you worry etched in his eyes.
you smile warmly at him when you see the bouquet in his hand. lucky girl, you think to yourself. the woman he has waiting at home is the luckiest person ever to exist.
"everything good, nanami?" you ask, a little worried to see him still slightly hunched trying to catch his breath.
"the elevator broke down after you left, had to use the stairs."
your eyes widen in shock, he was in the seventh floor. he had run down seven floors trying to reach you?
you quickly make him sit in your driver's seat and hand him a bottle of water. you try to calm your thoughts down as he recollects his composure.
"you shouldn't hav-" "would you like to go out with me this weekend?"
your brain stops working.
"h-huh?"
"i always thought you were pretty, and i really wanted to ask you out almost five months ago. your personality, your diligence and just the way you present yourself has me utterly entranced."
he stands up and hands you the bouquet.
"i just thought it would be quite inappropriate if i asked you while you were an intern, i did not want to abuse my position and impose on you. so, no pressure but if you would like to, i'll do my best to take you on an enjoyable date."
you are speechless, your jaw going slack.
"y-you like me?"
he smiles at you, eyes turning into crescents. a soft chuckle escapes his lips.
"quite a lot, i'm afraid."
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glitterjay · 2 months
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dom hee with naive reader and he loves her sensitivity
⭒ naive reader, dom overprotective heeseung, virgin kink, overstimulation, friends to lovers type of thing, jealousy (kinda), suggestive content under cut, mdni
⭒ c's note: i hope this is good enough ^^ | mlist!
⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin
heeseung's blood was boiling. the guy that was talking to you in front of HIS locker was obviously trying to get to you. the way his eyes looked you up and down, how he licked his lips every time he looked at the shorts you were wearing, his hand trying to reach yours.
heeseung's locker was the checkpoint after school where you two would meet to hang out after classes. sometimes it was with heeseung's friends, sometimes it was you two alone. he walked with a steady pace, his jaw clenching.
his gaze softened for a second when you acknowledged his presence, only to go back to a dark look towards the man in front of you. "hey, heeseung!" you greeted with a soft smile. "hello, love." he replied back.
you and heeseung were often mistaken as a couple due to all the skinship and nicknames you had with each other, but in reality, you both were childhood friends.
"it would be nice if my locker wasn't filled with annoying people."
the man ignored heeseung's words, still trying to reach your hand. "so, are you free later tonight?" your best friend scoffed, not letting you reply for yourself. "i said, it would be nice if my locker wasn't filled with annoying people. and no, she's not free. she has plans with me."
you gave the boy an apologetic look before waving him goodbye, turning to heeseung. his muscles were tense, and his jaw was still clenching as he watched the dude walk away. you laid a hand on his strong arm, trying to soothe him. "is everything okay?"
heeseung relaxed his body, sighing and pulling you into a hug. "he was all over you. did you not notice?" you face was buried in his chest. you shook your head, taking in the scent of the cologne he was wearing. "he was eating you with his eyes. it made my blood boil."
heeseung was always overprotective when it came to you and other men who weren't him or his friends. it made you slowly fall in love with him. he treated you just the right way, but you were afraid he didn't feel the same. it is a hard world for women, after all. maybe he's just being cautious.
-
some time passed, and you were both at his house for a sleepover. heeseung didn't like the idea of leaving you alone after the man hit you up in the middle of the day. he offered to walk you to your classes, even if it meant being late to his own.
everything went smoothly. you both baked some cookies and even played some games together. it was starting to get dark outside, and you decided it was a good idea to watch a movie.
heeseung was setting up the living room while you were in his bedroom bathroom, changing into something comfy. you had brought an oversized shirt you bought a while back along some shorts.
you walked out into the living room again, seeing your best friend laying on the pile of blankets that were on the floor. heeseung invited you to sit between his legs to cuddle, and you gladly took the spot.
-
half of the movie had gone by by now, and you were deeply into the plot. you were way too concentrated trying to figure out what would happen to notice heeseung shifting behind you. having your almost bare ass grinding against his crotch every time you got excited got him painfully hard.
without looking away from the tv, you put your hand behind you, trying to reposition yourself in your best friend's arms only to be greeted by something that was rock solid.
heeseung let out a whimper, biting the back of his hand as he threw his head back. you looked down to where your hand laid, noticing it was his dick you were touching. "oh my god! heeseung, im so sorry!"
you apologized, getting up and standing in front of him. his posture and the way he was breathing so hard made you get a weird feeling in your tummy. "it's okay, princess."
"i- did i do that?" you asked, pointing at his hard on. heeseung chuckled, "yeah, kind of." your face flushed bright red, looking away from him for a second. you sat back down, this time facing him. heeseung only smiled.
"does it hurt?" you asked again. you knew such things happened to men, but you couldn't help asking such stupid questions. "it does, pretty."
"is there a way i could help you feel better?"
his head shot up, using his elbows as support to look at you straight in the eyes. he was trying to look for some kind of hesitation, but all his eyes could see was your face staring down at his crotch, biting your lips.
"there is a way," he said, "but you have to trust me."
-
it took him five minutes to have you laying in his bedroom bed. you had decided to keep the oversized t-shirt on to which heeseung agreed. the least he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.
he knew you were a virging, and that just added to the amount of horniness he was feeling at that moment. he positioned himself right between your legs and aligned his tip with your hole. "this is going to hurt, but i'll go as slow as i can, mkay?" you nodded, shutting your eyes closed.
"let me know if it gets too much."
he started going in slowly, stopping for a minute so you could adjust to his size. your mouth hung open, tiny gasps leaving you as he moved. your eyes couldn't stay shut, they were wide open staring at where yours and heeseung's body connected.
him, on the other hand, was fighting the urge to ram into you with no mercy. the way your pussy swallowed him, so tight and warm was driving him insane. once he was all the way in, he stayed there for a minute without moving at all.
" 'm gonna start moving."
heeseung started thrusting slowly, grunting and groaning at how tight you were. you held onto his srtong arms for dear life, gasping for air every time he moved. "h-hee, there's a strange feeling in my tummy."
heeseung's pace started picking up. "let it go, princess. don't hold it in."
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, screaming loudly as you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. the feeling of your warm juicies added to heeseung's pleasure. he was bearing his own climax, holding your hips tightly as he kept fucking you.
the pleasure started turning into pain on your side, the sensation being too much for your (no longer) virgin self to take. you tried kicking and pushing him away, but it was no use. he was stronger.
"so sensitive and so fucking mine."
with one last thrust, heeseung pulled out and cummed right on your tummy. your body was shaking hard, reaching yet another orgasm.
"you did so good for me, love. so perfect."
he kissed your temple, grabbing his shirt from the floor to clean you up. "what does this make us?" you asked between breaths. "boyfriend and girlfriend," heeseung replied. "don't worry, i'll ask you again properly, but let's enjoy this moment for now."
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keen-li · 4 months
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PREDESTINED
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Mortal/commer jk x goddess reader
Jk x fem reader.
Fantasy au
Wc: 4.1k
Oneshot
☆☆☆
You release a moan at how the water touches your body and how the bubbles of heat tickle your breasts. You hum your beautiful melodies, your melodious voice calling out to all the little night lights that luminate your night bath. Your body glows and causes the pool you're in and anything you touch to glow. You continue to rub your smooth and soft skin when you hear a rustle in the bushes behind you. No one and absolutely no one is allowed in your forest inclosed pool. Not even the servants. Anyone who dares to trespass your territory by your guarantee will be banished. There's only one person allowed, he's the main reason why you have this place enclosed. It's the only place where you to can meet freely. And so you already know that it's him
"You shouldn't be here" you say with a smile. Legally he shouldn't be here but personally you're glad he's here.
"I'm to be married tomorrow"
You can hear the cling of his belt and the his trousers hit the floor. By the sound alone you feel yourself clench. You don't have to be a genius to know how he's feeling. "And that's why im here..." his husky voice speaks.
"...to give you a goodbye" you hum at his words and see the ripples caused by the entrance of his body into the water. And in a second he's standing in front of you, muscles and tattoos on show for you. You've always loved his tattoos especially the effect you had on them.
"This is no goodbye, jeon" your hand touches his as your fingers trace the muscles of his chest. When your hand traces his tattoos, each little inked pattern begins to light up. You loved that and so did he, telling by the smile on his face as he watches his tattoos light up. "I love when you do that"
"I love to do it" your hands leave his now fully glowing tattoos and he takes the moment to take your hand in his. He places a kiss on your hand eyes still on yours.
"love your hands and the power they have" kiss. "the power they have on me" kiss. "on my mind" kiss, "and on my heart"
"And wont say where else..but you know"
He winks at you making you blush. His hands trace your hips feeling your curves. It took him sometime to get used to the power your body emits, but he's like a pro now, knowing how to hold and handle your body. Its like your power has become used to his touch and hold. You certainly have. You give into his touch immediately moving your neck to allow his lips to make a move. and they do. They're soft and gentle against your skin. If you could you'd pull him even closer into your body by his waist.
Your voice gives in to his contact. You whine at each touch. "its like you've got a spell on me, y/n" he says against your skin.
"you dare call my name, jeon" you say seriously but you're everything but serious.
He chuckles "should I shy away from calling my love's name?" he stops his kisses to look into your bright eyes.
"a goddess's name"
"my wife's name" you scoff at that. His fingers tickle your waist knowing your follow up statement. "kookie I can't be your wife" just by the way you his name electricity is sent to his crotch.
"you can be if you just get the tattoo" you know what he means he's been telling you ever since he knew his love for you that you should get the tattoo, but its not that easy. He already has your name tattooed on his. Right on his heart, magically, and on his left chest peck, physically. You knew all you had to do in order to be married to jungkook is if you got the tattoo, but its hard for you. You're timed to be married to someone else tomorrow and your family would never allow a god like you to be married to a mortal like him,
That's what your father said when you brought the idea to him. He even threatened to banish the mortal who had caused you thoughts like that. And after that you pushed away all thoughts of introducing jungkook. You knew it was never fated for a mortal and a god to be intertwined, but you swear you and jungkook's names are written in gold side by side and hearts tied by the red strings of fate. you believe its true and so does he.
"you know its not that easy" you say and sigh. Jungkook knows how hard this is for you, its also hard for him. The thought of being banished is scary but the thought of having you taken away from him is terrifying. he never wants that to happen and he's not gonna let it, whether because of the man you're to marry or because of your father.
"if you just get my name tattooed, you won't be able to marry him" he tries to convince you. "jungkook" you whine and each time you call his name it physically pulls at his heart where you engraved your name.
"baby" he whines back and his whimpery tone causes your core to throb. "if you dont want to I underst-" he says completely honest.
"no, I want to. I want to so badly" your face falls after your statement.
"im just scared..for you" he knew you were. But you didn't need to, and even though he can't compete with the gods, he'd rather be banished than live a life where he can't be with you. And he always wants to show you that. You give in to the touch of his palm on your cheek as you hum feeling his warmth. He stares warmly into your eyes as they stare back, if he wasn't already used to it, he'd go blind from the stars that shine in your eyes. Literally.
"remember when I first met you?" he asks and you nod.
"you were so stupid, how could you cross the garden? You could've been killed" you slap his chest playfully. Your slaps no longer feel like thunder claps now that he's used to them.
"I could've but I didn't, and I never will" he shows you his cheeky grin.
"don't be so cocky"
"speaking of-" he says his eyes dropping to his crotch, your eyes follow his vision and you chuckle.
"fine I'll do it"
"do what? My cock?" you slap his arm.
"no... The tattoo. I'll do it" he looks at you to see if you're serious and you are, you genuinely want to.
"What? afraid you might have to live life without my cock?" you want to slap his arm but he catches it at your wrist and grins at you. You cheekily smirk back.
"Maybe" you shrug "but mostly afraid of living without you"
"Aaa. You're so cute my goddess" he squints his eyes and grabs his chest feigning to be in pain. You're cute little laughter brings him back.
"why don't we change the mood. It's our last day together"
"its not, you need to stop joking about that"
"I'm sorry" he pecks your lips. "let me apologize" he says his lips now by your ears and his hands hooking behind your thighs.
He lifts you and soon enough your core meets his.
  "Fuck, you feel so good " he curses
"don't curse around me jeon" you can barely say by the way he's rolling into you.
...
You sit drenched in gold and jews on a throne that costs more than the lives of the people sitting below you tripled. You never liked sitting in elevated positions and degrading the commers with the way you're towering over them. But your father always said you should do so to remind them of your power and glory. you were never one to feel validation from power and glory, it never impacted you in that manner. Its hard staring into the eyes of the happy crowd knowing the event that is going to occur but what makes it worse is staring into the eyes of your lover while your 'husband' is sat next to you in his own throne. And unlike you he definitely likes the power and glory.
Jungkook is sat straight in line with your vision and he doesn't move his eyes away from you, not even once. You on the other hand keeped on shying away from his burning gaze and when you do he whipsers your name and says how beautiful you look and how your husband-to-be is ugly. he knows when he whipsers your name you can't ignore him and you hear all he says, it's like a prayer. It reminds you of the first time you taught him how to reach you directly.
"Just whisper it gently and passionatly" you say legs swing froma tree as he pays close attention to you. "I don't like it when people yell or say it aggressively." he notes down your likes and dislikes. Mentally and physically.
"you dont have to carry a physical note book to note down, jeon" you say to the man next to you.
"I want to remember everything, so that even if old age catches me and I cant remember anything I can always look back and remember" he turns his face from his book to face you with his warm and cute doe eyes. You love his eyes and unlike him you're not able to hold contact with them, its like their power overpowers yours. He's eyes have and unspeakable power that have captured you since the first day.
"You wont forget, kookie" a nickname he gave you gave to call him. "and I'll never let old age catch you" he chuckles at that as he feels your hand on his cheek. In an event where you to ended up together forever, because of his humanly fate, he'd grow old and die. While you live forever with your everlasting immaculate beauty. it was a sad fact for him but he accepted it. Atleast he gets to live his entire life with you. Even though you Suggested making him immortal, he declined. He never wanted to be with you so that he could be immortal, some moratls would call him foolish for saying no but they don't understand, they don't understand what he feels. He's not here to use you he just to be with you for however long he can.
"Let me make you immortal" you say so passionately hoping he says yes this time. "take it as my gift to you for bringing such joy into my life"
There you go speaking gibberish again, he thinks "i don't need a gift for making you happy, you're a gift for me already" he says and his eyes do sorcery on you, enchanting you not to argue with what he's said.
"I love you and I want to spend this little humanly life I have with you, not arguing about me becoming immortal" you can't argue with him. And all you can do is place a passionate kiss onto his lips which he happily accepts.
Somewhere in jungkook he knew the reason why he didn't want to become immortal, was the fear of living forever with her father's wrath for taking his daughter.
"And now we are gonna have the gift ceremony" the voice of the officient draws you out of your wonders. The gift ceremony is where offerings are given to the couple and even though you're gods and their gifts are meaningless, in value of course but you still appreciate the fact that people give them to you even though you know they do it to get blessings. It's an important part of the process and even though you don't like it you have to do it.
You watch people in the queue present their offerings. Some to you and some to the man next to you, you bless them as they do so. You scoff at how the man next to you feeds off the offerings of the people, that's one of the reasons you love jungkook. He's a selfless man, he doesn't feed off the power and glory. You remember the time he saved a litte bird and set it back in it's nest after you fixed its broken wing. Even though he never had any magical powers he did his best to help others.
"you don't need magical powers to be a good person" he once said to you. And you always smile at the memory.
Speaking of smiling, you watch jungkook smile in the queue as he aproaches quickly. You keep your eyes on him as you wonder what gift he could possibly give you.
Soon enough its his turn and you watch as he bows for you, something you never wanted him to do, but he always insisted. He lays down his gift.
"I hope you like my gift and can bless me adequately" he says as though he didn't just fuck you blind yesterday. His head is bowed to you and his knees on the the golden floor. When you catch his gift you gasp.
Oh jeon what have you done, do you not care for your life. You say in your mind. And like he can hear your thoughts he whipsers your name and speaks. "you are my life"
The ashes of a golden phoenix, given to a goddess on her wedding day by her husband. A symbol for the new golden life that will rise from the ashes. It's a gift only given by gods cause no human and afford the golden ashes of a golden phoenix. This gift is only given once and shows the enternal union between the giver and the receiver, if the receiver accepts.
"what type of gift is this?" the man seated next to you exclaims angrily. "how dare you give my wife a gift I'm meant to give her? How can you afford the ashes of a golden phoenix" at this point people start to stare and whisper at the scene.
"He must be a thief" he accuses. You watch jungkook's body which is still bowed to you. You cant believe he actually risked his life like this. Stupid mortal. Jungkook chuckles like he isn't being yelled at by a god and at risk of death.
"You dare laugh?" he dares to strike but you stop him.
"Leave him" everyone stares at you with surpise.
"Why should I leave someone who dares to discredit my honour and glory"
Fuck your honour and glory, you dont deserve it. Jungkook is the one who deserves to be seated in that seat, you want to say but you can't instead you keep it in your heart.
"I say leave him cause he's just a foolish and stupid mortal who doesn't know what he's doing" you say and jungkook's head lifts to finally meet your eyes. There is truth in your statement but its not as harsh as you say it, and jungkook knows he can see it in your eyes that avoid his. He knows what he's doing.
"And its not like im going to accept it anyways, he probably stole it from the poor phoenix. I don't accept stolen gifts" you finally meet his eyes and he can hear lies you're telling.
The man seems to have relaxed by your reassurance. "Fine I wont punish him because of my wife's mercy"
You and jungkook gag at that internally. "But wont you bless me?" jungkook asks you confidently.
"The nerves, you dare ask her to bless you after the scene you have just caused you." he spits at jungkook. "its her duty t-"
"Fine ill bless you" you say stopping jungkook from ruining his chance at life. "What would you like me to bless you for" jungkook smiles at the opportunity you've given him
"I ask that fate may always be on me and my lover's side" your heart pulls at his request. What is jungkook doing, he could've taken this chance to free himself from you and the danger you carry for them. He could've gone in to find maiden who he would spend the rest of his life with and have children with, even if it hurts you its better for him. But he's so stubborm. He's a very attractive man no maiden would say no to him. So why doesn't he just go that route.
I don't want to go into road where you won't be.
"it is done" you say, and it surely is done.
You don't know how to feel, a part of you wishes jungkook could have just gone away to a better life, but then another part of you knows a better life is when you're with him.
Jungkook knows the consequences, the risk, the challenge. he knows it all and he still wants to be with you as he said nothing is going to stop him not even you and your attenpt to push him away by not accepting the gift. He didn't do all this for nothing, he's not going to let his efforts go into water. And lucky for him fate is on his side even though you don't want to accept it, worrying about what will happen.
"What do you mean his name won't write" your father asks the officiant his voice thunderous at the revelation. Everyone is in a panic and in a shock, your mother, your father and your never-gonna-be husband. Even the people are whispering and gossiping theories. But you arent surprised. Jungkook is not surprised. You knew this would happen you expected it.and your heartbeat grew strong as the moment drew closer amd Jungkook's smile grew wider. People were gonna know who you were fated with.
"His name cannot be written for fate has written another's name" the white bearded officiant speaks. Fate is never wrong and there are no take backs with fate. What fate decides is what's gonna be and even if you try to run from it fate will bring you back to what's destined for you, even if it takes a million more tries.
"Who's name?" your father asks angry from this embarrassment.
"It's a mortal" you can hear a thousand plus gasps in the hall "his name is jun-" it's like he's taking his time saying it on purpose, when he gives you a look you immediately turn to the crowd scared eyes meetng jungkook. You know what's gonna happen when they find out the name of the mortal and so before he says his name. You immediately scream.
"JUNGKOOK GO!" Your voice thunders in the hall. And he does. He goes, to where? he doesn't know but he knows you'll know and you'll find him.
Just as the crowd opens up so jungkook can run out your father screams for thunder. But jungkook is protected not by you, but by yor mother's power and the part of you that's in him.
You turn to your mother who rushes to grab you from the chaos. She takes you to the open room, where all official meeting are held.
"is he -" she knows what your worry is.
"He's gonna be perfectly fine" she comforts you. And you begin to weep and you're glad you have your mother's arms to fall into. She understands and knows your pain, she to was once in love with a mortal, unlucky for her fate was not on her side but love was, it wasn't enough and he died.
"where is it?" your father walks in yelling "where is the tattoo that bound you to that mortal" you shiver under your mother's hold as your father grabs your arm to pull you from your mother. Which he does. "I will srcap it myself" he says to you coldly and you don't expect more from him. "if I have to I will cut the limb its on... NOW WHERE IS IT?" he says starting to tear the sillk covering your body. You cant do much apart from scream and try and stop him.
"you cant disobey fate!" Your mother exclaims and he drops your hand now approaching your mother who doesn't coward from him.
"i don't care about fate, I am a god and I'm  more powerful than fate" he exclaims. "my word is fate"
"And after I scrap that tattoo off her, she'll be married to Min-ho" you sob even more your cries causing a storm outside. And whereever jungkook is , he knows by the way the thunder roars and the lighting strikes he can tell what you feel. Anger, fear and sadness. He wishes badly to be with you but your mother warned him he should go away for a while. And she promised to help him when the time is right.
"Where is it ?" he asks and you try to collect your thoughts.
Before he can ask you again you speak "my heart..." you speak finally saying  where it is.
"You let a mortal engrave on your heart?" he's pissed and you can tell but you aren’t afraid of him. All you're thinking about is jungkook. Is he okay?, is he safe, is he even alive? "a mortal?" he asks again. He knows a mortal does not contain enough power (or any at all) to engrave on a god's heart.
"He's not a mortal" both you and your father turn to your mother who speaks. "He's not a mortal" she repeats.
"What do you mean?" he asks and you too pay attention to her as you wonder what she means. "you made that idiot immortal" his anger is now moving to your mother, but she doesn't fear him.
"No I didn't, she did" your mother nods to you and you widen your eyes prepared to defend yourself.
"I never made him immortal" you defend when your father's eyes burn holes in you.
"Actually you did" your mother says and you wonder if your mother is on your side. But she is on your side. "gods don't engrave their names on mortals hearts and then nothinghappens after" she continues.
"whoever told you to engrave your name on his heart might not have told you, but by doing that you made him immortal."
And then you remember who you went to for help.
Hoseok, the cast out god himself; your uncle.
"You're so rebellious huh? Wanna be like me" he asks you mockingly when you explained everything to him.
"If I do end up like you atleast I'll have somewhere to go" you say and he chuckles at that. He's always told you that if you ever became rebellious you'd have a home with him and that still stands.
So hoseok helped you, he got jungkook's name engraved in his. He's the god of marriage and prosperity after all.
He's the one who told you to engrave on jungkook's heart, in any other situation he'd be worried for jungkook that he might die but the fact that jungkook and you we're fated (he doesn't know how and he still wonders) he knew instead of killing jungkook it'd make him immortal.
Unlike in his sister's case she had begged hoseok for the same thing that you are begging for, but only she was not fated to the mortal. And even if he told her what would have happened she still begged and he did it. And expectedly  the mortal died.
Your mother still feels guilt and curses her hope and how hopeful she was that maybe he would've survived.
You wonder if jungkook knows he's immortal and if he did know why didn't he tell you. Now you understand why jungkook's presence and gaze caused much pressure, no mortal could've had such an effect on you. And why he became immune to you gaze and touch.
Your heart relaxes knowing that your father can't kill jungkook, but that doesn't stop him from being cast out like hoseok.
Wherever jungkook is he grunts and groans at the feeling that pulls at his heart. He lays down as his tattoos flicker on-off like a bulb.
"Hurts to be away from your love right?" Hoseok asks giving him something to drink.
Jungkook nods. He knows who hoseok is, so it's not weird being in his presence but he doesn't know how he got here. But hoseok remembers he's sister's instructions.
"Watch for him and when you see him take him with you" she says the day of the wedding knowing what would unfold.  After hoseok told her what was going in with you, she knew what was going to unfold and she needed a plan. "He needs your help. Train him to embrace and use his power"
Hoseok's home was simple, warm and comforting, but he misses your presence.
"Well you're going to have to deal with it a little longer cause you won't be able to see her anytime soon"
☆☆☆
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doobea · 8 months
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WHEN THE SUN RISES - SAE ITOSHI
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synopsis: You have doubts about your relationship. Sae provides reassurance.
contents: early established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, reader is a tad insecure, mentions of other couples and pda, talks about all things mushy with love word count: 1.1K a/n: waaahh cant believe i didn't post anything for my husband on his birthday im so terrible - this is something short and sweet ;-; i haven't posted anything in a bit bc I've been so tired lately LOL
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You have doubts. 
Doubts about your work performance, test scores, your friendships, and sometimes the future — you know, the less important things. 
Your least favorite doubts are the ones about you and Sae. 
He’s not a bad boyfriend by any means. You’ve been dating each other for a while now, just shy of six months, and it’s been going well. Like any other college couple, you spend your free time together either marathoning a shitty reality TV show, studying, or eating at the local diners near campus once in a while for a ‘fancy’ burger and pizza date night (which Sae hates, by the way, but he goes because there’s nothing better around). You don’t blame him for these doubts because it’s just the way he is. You’ve always known this, along with everyone else around you. 
“Itoshi Sae? Yeah, he’s pretty cold and blunt.” They’d say in a hushed whisper. 
Another would agree, followed by an exaggerated shiver. “I heard even professors are scared of him.”
They’re annoying rumors and passing comments you've gotten somewhat used to. So you don’t blame the gossipers at your school either. Who you do blame are all the couples you would see, whether it’d be at school, at the grocery store, and sometimes even your own parents. Seeing things like holding hands, hugging, and even kissing each other goodbye sets something weird off in your chest.
And, well, you’ve known Sae for a while. You know that maybe he isn’t the type to be comfortable with these things, especially in public. And maybe you’re not going to guilt trip him into doing things that are out of his ordinary. But here’s the problem.
You do want to experience all of it.
“Sae?”
“Hm?”
“Do you like me?”
Your question throws him off just a tiny bit. He fumbles slightly with his flow of writing before catching himself and throws you a questioning look from across the table. 
It’s the midterm season so every floor at the university’s library is packed. All but the top floor, which is mainly reserved for graduate students, who are rarely even on-site. So you two manage to snag a booth in the corner by the bathrooms and water fountain. You’ve been studying for about two hours straight and the thought of going over the rules of the Krebs cycle again haunts you so you let your doubts take over. Hence, why you blurted out the question that’s been burning on your mind for the past week. 
“I do, why do you ask?” He doesn’t sound bothered by it, so you take that as a good sign.
But how do you go about asking him to show that? Maybe asking upfront would be too demanding right now. You decide to dance around the subject a little more.
There’s a moment in silence, your eyebrows creased in deep thought before you finally speak, voice clumsy and almost rough sounding. “When did you realize you liked me?”
He answers without missing a beat, eyes never leaving his notebook. “Dunno.”
Well, that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. 
“Huh?”
“What?” Sae breaks his focus and stares at you, as if you were the one who had said something weird. “You asked and I answered.”
“You have to explain with that sorta question, you know?”
In just the tiniest of motions, Sae frowns. He’s holding his breath for a few seconds in preparation and his eyes soften. “I’m not sure when I fell in love with you.”
Woah—wait love? This is also not what you were expecting out of this conversation either. Is it too late to go back to studying now?
Sae picks up the worried look on your face and manages a soft chuckle. “You know when the sun rises?”
You’re patting your face with your hands now, hoping to eliminate the burn on your cheeks. The sweat forming in your palms doesn’t help at all. And, frankly, you’re confused by his question. “Um, between six and seven?”
“Well, yeah,” he laughs again and you’re not sure if that was the answer he was looking for. “But it always rises, right?”
“Right,” you say slowly, still confused by what he’s trying to get at.
“I’m not sure when I fell in love but whenever the sun rises, it reminds me of you,” Sae explains with a leveled expression, ignoring the little surprised squeaks from your direction. “It’s been like that for a while now and brings me comfort whenever I do wake up early to see it rising.”
“Did you get that line from a K-drama or something?”
He rolls his eyes and fake scoffs. “Thought you wanted an explanation?”
“Well,” you bite back a giggle and continue, “you never struck me as a metaphor type of guy.”
“And you never struck me as the jealous type.” 
You grow hotter because wow guess you haven’t been that great at hiding away your feelings—or maybe your boyfriend is just that good at being perceptive as he is being a top honor student. “Was it that obvious?”
“When you’re looking at other couples and grumbling right after then yeah, it’s pretty obvious.” Sae’s tone doesn’t carry any ounce of tease and he gives you a fond look. It makes you feel slightly guilty and embarrassed. 
You shrink deeper into the booth, holding your textbook up to your face. “Sorry…”
The seat next to you dips and a familiar pair of hands gently snatches the book away from you, revealing Sae’s rare soft expression again. 
“Don’t be,” He reaches over to ruffle your hair before moving his laptop and notebook over to your side. “Plus, you shouldn’t worry that much, I’ll always be with you.”
A pause and then you decide to blurt out your other burning question because things are already out in the open at this point. “Would it be alright if we start doing more couple-ly things together?” 
“Mhm,” he’s about to dive back into studying but stops, humming in thought. “What should we do more?”
“Well, aside from me,” Sae deadpans and you straighten your posture. “Sorry, sorry, what I meant to say is I guess more PDA? Holding hands would be a good start.”
“Okay,” He says quietly and drops his pen, carefully interlacing his fingers with yours.  
Sae’s hands are warm, maybe even sweaty if you’re not mistaken. You look up and oh — his cheeks have the tiniest amount of red on them. Probably no different from the resurgence of warmth you’re currently feeling too.
“Better?” Sae asks and squeezes your hand.
“Yeah, better.” You squeeze back. 
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garoujo · 1 year
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REUNITING WITH THEM AT THE AIRPORT — BLUE LOCK
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feat : nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, mikage reo & kunigami rensuke.
♱ warnings — sfw ! some minor making out, f!leaning petnames, all characters written as pro players. / note. i have finally come w sum bllk sfw ! im sorry ive been mia all day it’s scara day so ive been buried in genshin < 3
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・✶ 。゚ NAGI SEISHIRO
nagi sighs as he tries to control the sudden race of his heart — almost there, he thinks as he makes his way through the gates at the airport. the pillow he stole from your side of the bed is still tucked under his arm and he still looks drowsy, no doubt from the nap the landing has just woken him from but he still brightens when his lidded gaze meets yours.
his feet are carrying him to you before he can even realise, completely cutting off whatever reo was grumbling about as a soft sort of smile threatens to curl at the corner of his lips, because although he wasn’t the type of boyfriend to swap spit with you in a crowd, he’s the type who’d always find you in one.
“seishiro?” you grin as nagi finally comes to stand infront of you, giggling at the way he reaches to let you wrap around him like he knows you want to as he presses a few gentle, drowsy kisses along your face. “welcome home, i missed you,”
it’s subtle, the way he loves you but it’s never felt like a sacrifice of the finer things because when you feel his arms squeeze around you tighter you know he missed you too.
nagi almost takes you both down with the way he lets himself immediately melt into you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck like he’s burying himself into a pile of blankets after a long day, sighing at the familiar warmth he feels surround him as you both sway.
but you bat him away playfully as you try to drag him back to the car, making the striker pout down at you as you really take in the drowsy look on his features — moving to smooth his bangs out of his eyes slightly before you watch him nuzzle and lean into the touch. “we have to leave, sei. we can relax when we’re home.” you laugh and his shoulders drop with a sigh, a little grumpy he doesn’t get to cuddle up to you yet, but his eyes still flutter closed at your touch again.
“eh, but thought you missed me, was such a drag ‘m tired — just lemme be clingy, pretty thing. please.”
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・✶ 。゚ BACHIRA MEGURU
bachira is already grinning when he takes his first step through the airport gate, bringing him a moment closer to you for the first time in what’s felt like forever as he longs for your touch.
his hairs a little messy from his nap and his headphones are haphazardly hanging around his neck, your shared playlist playing quietly through the speaker as he teases the rest of his teammates. his suitcase wheels behind him but suddenly it feels weightless when he catches his first glimpse of you.
“baby! did you miss me?” bachira sings before he immediately makes his way towards you, giddy smile in place as his luggage lays long forgotten on the ground behind him because when you run to meet him, his arms are already outstretched and you both would’ve went down hard onto the airport floor if it wasn’t for his balance.
his lips find yours almost immediately, shamelessly but there’s love in his words despite the way they come out in small pants into the kiss. “gotta tell me you missed me, baby. mhm—been waiting to hear it.”
“i did miss you, bachi!” you reply, quickly and it only seems to make bachira hug you even tighter as he giggles, peppering your skin in quick presses of his lips like he’s making up for lost time. but it’s even faster the way he casts a quick wave over his shoulder, eager to get you back home so he can finally wrap himself in you like he’s been longing to as he bids his teammates goodbye.
but then he turns to press another quick kiss to your lips as his hand intertwines with yours and he swings them by his side with a cheekier sort of smile.
“did you see me play for you? i was good, hm.. was all for you, you gonna reward me for it?”
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・✶ 。゚ ITOSHI RIN
rin sighs as he tries to control the way his heart seems to kick at his ribs with every careful step he takes towards the exit gate, towards you. his eyes are a little darker than usual, he’s a little more uptight and his muscles ache more than usual — he’s told himself he should stretch more after training but he knows it’s because he really only rests best beside you.
he readjusts his training bag across his chest as his eyes take in his first glance of the crowd waiting on the players arriving, before they finally land on an all too familiar smile that has his feet carrying him closer before he can even register the movement.
rin’s gaze doesn’t leave yours once with every step and he always found it harder to hide the way his lips threaten to curl at the mere sight of you. he thinks you’re even prettier than the day he left you, there’s still love in your gaze and you still feel warm when he lets his hand reach out to brush along your cheek.
the touch is subtle, but it guides you into him as he leans into meet you — exhaling with the first, soft brush of his lips along your temple, because you still feel like home to him when you reach out to pull him closer.
“did you have a good time?” you ask, a little giddy hes back with you and you feel the soft smile on rin’s lips when he offers you a grunt in return, subtly reaching to intertwine his hands with yours before he’s stuffing them into his pocket and luring you away from the rest of his rowdy teammates.
“i’m glad to be back.” he breathes and you know he means to tell you he’s missed you when it accompanies a pretty little blush on his cheeks, his gaze still locked on the path ahead before he’s squeezing your hand in his and clearing his throat as he continues. “you watched, didn’t you?” he hopes.
“ofcourse i did.”
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・✶ 。゚ ITOSHI SAE
it was charming the way you immediately watch sae’s carefully neutral expression soften as he makes his way through the gates with the team. but what you don’t see, is the restlessness in his hands as he longs to reach for you, to hold you as he ignores the long journey ache the flight has left him with.
he notices the reporters, the ones waiting to catch interviews with the team but he couldn’t care less — not when you’re standing all pretty and waiting for him, just how he left you as he doesn’t even spare them a glance.
sae’s missed the feeling of your skin against his, the warm press of your body against his chest as he slept — maybe that explains the crook in his neck and how cold his hotel bed felt, like it was missing something, someone.
but then he’s suddenly standing across from you as you send him a starry-eyed sort of look that makes him breathe out a chuckle, his fingertips tilting your chin higher before he’s pulling you in for a quick kiss. it’s one that makes him melt slightly, some of the tension leaving his body as he exhales against your lips — it’s not long enough, but he’s always been especially careful about keeping you safe from gossip.
“have you been good, sweetheart?” sae asks as he pulls away, his thumb smoothing along your skin as his sharp gaze remains on yours and his free hand presses against your lower back.
“aren’t i always?” you reply, teasing and that makes him breathe out a real laugh when he watches you lean into his touch after, making something warm burst in his chest before he’s tilting his head at you with another soft smile.
“yes, you are. so let’s get you home, i want to hear what you’ve been busy with.”
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・✶ 。゚ MIKAGE REO
reo yawns drowsily as he stretches his arms above his head, he’s sore from the flight and he wants nothing more than to melt into his bed but there’s still a grin on his lips because he knows you’ll be wrapped up right beside him.
“there’s my bunny.” he breathes, mostly to himself when he catches his first glimpse of you and he gives his teammates a quick, eager goodbye before he’s making his way towards you — sending you a teasing sort of look as he watches the way your own grin mirrors his.
reo’s arms wrap tight around your figure as he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck, mouthing at the skin as you giggle and twist in his hold but it only makes him realise how much he missed you, this, when he finally pulls away to press his lips against yours.
it’s eager and a little messy the way he kisses you, but he couldn’t care less because you’re here and he’s home and he’s waited to have you back with him. he feels your fingers graze through his hair, twitching into his roots and the touch makes him groan against your lips before he pulls back to raise his brow at you, taunting.
“did you miss me, hm?” reo grins despite the way he knows the answer, leaning in closer to press more kisses along your jawline as you reply with an eager little yes that makes him laugh — squeezing his arms around your waist even tighter before he presses a final kiss against your cheek.
his chest is tight against yours as he lets his lips graze along the shell of your ear, like he’s making sure he can still draw those reactions out of you, making sure you’re still his.
“yeah? so cute, bunny. i hope you were cheering extra loud for me.”
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・✶ 。゚ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE
kunigami groans as he feels every hour from the long journey grind and ache through his muscles, stretching out his neck before he’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes. he wants nothing more than to feel you in his arms right now, his hands twitching from where they’re longing to hold you as he looks around the crowds at the exit gate.
but despite his fatigue, he moves quickly when he finally finds you — shrugging off his luggage in favour of holding you instead as you rush your way into his hold, throwing yourself into the muscled chest that you’d missed pressing yourself against every night.
you feel one of kunigami’s palms rest against the back of your neck before the other wraps tight around your hips and he’s pulling you in eagerly for a kiss. you hear his gruff i love yous mix with yours, exchanged between rough presses of his lips against your own but it’s feels so very him and so very much like home that you can’t help but eagerly drink up everything he gives to you.
he kisses you dizzy, but still manages to hold you upright as he keeps you pressed against his chest — only pulling away when he’s breathing deep and he’s letting his palm press against your cheek, soft despite the way he’s just stolen your breath away from you.
“did you miss me or something, kuni?” you giggle and you watch the way kunigami’s rolls his eyes despite the way a grin twitches at his lips, not very well disguised by the frown that tries to nestle its way onto his handsome features.
“course i fuckin’ did, princess.” he grunts, low and rugged as he lets his fingers pinch at your cheek and you huff before you shake him off — making a deep croon of a laugh fall from his lips before he’s pressing his lips against your forehead once more.
“come on, gotta get you home. gotta make up for lost time.”
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beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year
Text
Goodbye, Fourth of July (18+)
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pairing: lee chan x fem!reader
genre: college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), hints of crack?
description: it's the fourth of july when you realize you're in love with your best friend. unfortunately though, it seems that he doesnt love you back, and this knowledge sends you spiraling. you push him away, but chan just wants to know why you're so upset
warnings: v v sad, pining, brief mention of s/a, chan is kinda dumb in this fr, reader is dramatic af tho, unprotected sex, desperation, praise kink, finger sucking, titty sucking, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl, sweet heart, good girl, cumslut once), mentions of alcohol and weed, irene is chans gf in this but shes not a villain shes mother fr
quotes from my proofreader: "my soul left my body", "no this is too personal", "i feel like im having a panic attack"
wordcount: 8.2k
Fireworks exploded across the sky the night your life was ruined. 
Down the gray, dim corridors of your campus where room after room was ablaze with idle lights, daring to imitate the stars above them. Every crevice of the left wing was filled with the noise and decorum of a college frat party, where people lived out their own lives simultaneously to yours - yours, that was shattering into millions of pieces onto Yoon Jeonghan’s kitchen floor. Every moment of teasing, of lingering touches, of adoring smiles, of secret memories and exchanged glances came hurdling onto you on the 4th of July, red solo cup long forgotten in your hand. You were in love with your best friend. 
“I’m in love with Chan,” you whispered, looking blankly across the room to see him leaned back against the couch, flashing a bright smile at Mingyu beside him. His blonde mullet - the one, that he had been so terrified to get, and only did so, when you told him he would look great - was tousled and spiky across his neck. He was wearing a red bomber jacket over a white tee, and he looked so good you thought you might cry. 
Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard your confession - was it a confession? Admittance? Defeat? - had he not been standing right beside you. He thanked God that your words were not lost to the music and to the ambiance, to lay and die in the sticky, hardwood floor. “What?!”
He was yelling over the music. You turned over to him, mouth cracked into a frown. “What?! You’re in love with Chan?! Seriously?!” He started bouncing and giggling, ignoring your hands coming to grab onto his forearms. He had predicted this exactly five months ago. 
“Shut up, Soonyoung, seriously!” You were yelling too, barely overcoming the booming voice of Kesha on the speakers. Bathed in pink light, letting your nails trail over the kitchen counter, you felt your heart becoming soft and trembling.
Your life was ruined. 
“What the fuck am I gonna do?” you cried, feeling Soonyoung spin you at your shoulders until he was right in front of you, alcohol dampening the air between you.
“What do you mean? You’re gonna confess to him. You guys are literally in love with each other” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if you hadn’t been best friends since freshman year; as if you didn’t know his favorite animal cracker shape and the exact model of his everyday sneakers. 
“I can’t do that.” 
“Yes, you can.” 
“I can?” 
“COMINGGG THROUGHHHHHHHH!” Frat-house dork Seokmin pushed between you and Soonyoung with a sky-high Vernon on his trail. Vernon shimmied apologetically, eyes sunken and red. “Getting cross-faded,” he supplied helpfully. 
“As you should,” Soonyoung mumbled, slightly peeved in his tone, but Seokmin and Vernon seemed too intensely high to notice his disdain. You were too floaty to be offended by their sudden intrusion. The party, the floor, the music, the stench of sweat had become distant and you felt very alone with your heart. And Kwon Soonyoung, of course.
“You can! Right now! I’ve been telling you for months!” He shook you by your shoulders, apparently sensing your distance. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, tugging at the strapless end of your short, glittery dress. “But he’s-” you inhaled sharply. “He’s not gonna love me back, Soon.” Soonyoung cut you off with a scoff. “He’s so in love with you! He looks at you like you’re the only girl in the…” 
Soonyoung trailed off, eyes peering past you into the crowd. “Oh shit,” His eyes widened, settled on you, then flicked back up. What the fuck was he looking at? “Uh, as I was-” you moved to look, struggling against his suddenly deadly grip on your shoulders “- no, don’t look!” He moved to stop you, but it was too late. You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes, finding yourself confused as to what he’d been crying about. That is until you saw him. Red bomber now discarded, Chan had removed himself from the couch and was currently grinding on your biochem-classmate, Irene. 
Oh. Okay. 
You felt like cold hands grabbed onto your throat from within, as it contracted and tears stung your eyes. There it went, your heart and all its pieces on the floor, and weighing you down like an anchor, was the knowledge that you’d spend the rest of your life picking them up. 
”God fucking damnit. This is awful, I’m awful,” your head was spinning, and you could barely make out how your fishnetted legs started moving, let alone how the tips of Soonyoung’s fingers brushed against your bare back to pull you back to him. You needed to get out. Out, out, out. 
You squeezed through the tight crowd, avoiding the gaze of your classmate Seungcheol, who tried to smile at you from where he stood. This had to be some sort of mistake. Some sort of illusion brought upon you by the rhythmic movements and the loose slip of alcohol. Maybe you were hormonal? You didn’t know, but you couldn’t think while some bass-boosted playlist built dams of pressure on the sides of your head.
You finally squeezed through the door, closing it behind you and locking away that cursed, wretched memory. The further you got, the fainter the image of him. By the time you were slipping out of the hallway and into the yard, you could almost convince yourself that it was a mistake. A foolish moment, that you would tuck away and keep in a locked chest. 
God, you were cold, shivering in your scrappy fabrics, as you slid down the brick wall by a flower bed, staring into the sky. It was the fourth of July, and your chest had exploded in fireworks while looking at your best friend. Every line had simultaneously been crossed and uncrossed. 
You had realized it just a few minutes ago, just standing in the kitchen, when Wonwoo from history had asked you for a lighter. It had just been a graze, but you’d still felt it, in the faraway reaches of your purse. Amongst crumbs, concealer, a couple unraveled cigarettes and wired earphones with only one working side. What was that? You’d handed Wonwoo the lighter and then dug around for it again. A little slip of paper, edges soft and worn. You pulled it up. 
It was just a drawing. A little scribbled dinosaur. God, you couldn’t even remember when he’d given it to you. But there you were smiling at it. And then looking at him. And then you knew. 
You started crying. Hot, fat tears dripped down your cheeks, and your lips were trembling, and suddenly your body was stuttering and convulsing against the wall, and you were in love with your best friend and he was obviously not in love with you. 
“Y/n?” 
You snapped your head towards the door and the person you wanted to see the least in that moment (that thought made you cry even more, because when had you ever wanted anyone but him by your side when you were upset?) was peeking his blonde haired head through the door. Chan had such a heavy frown, looking down at you from the wide opened doorway. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was immediately crouching down, hand burning hot on your back, stroking the muscles. Another hand on your knee and it was all too much, so you pushed him away. He backed off immediately, and you wished you missed the flash of hurt on his face. He looked at you with so much worry. “What happened?” 
He was sitting across from you on the pavement and you couldn’t bear to see him, lit geometrically by the moonlight and the explosions in the sky, brows creased. Averting your eyes, you fiddled with the edge of your dress and sniffled. What were you supposed to say? It was hard to say anything. You fought down the tears pressing at your eyes again, swallowing your emotions before you looked at him again, almost robotically.
“I’m fine,” you said, nodding, and only adding more when his face twisted in confusion. You were always honest with each other, he thought, why were you lying? “It’s stupid, I’m.. I’m on my period and my hormones are just.. Bleugh.” You found it in yourself to giggle.
Silence, only decorated with the constant stream of fireworks and distant laughter of drunk college kids. Chan studied you for a moment, legs crossed and arms slung over his knees. “Cheol said you looked upset.” 
“Yeah, I, uh, I was thinking of that sad dog movie.” 
Another pause. “Old Yeller.” 
The distance between you had never felt wider and you were certain Chan could feel it too. 
“You know you can tell me anything right?” You wished your laughter hadn’t been so heart-achingly bitter. He looked so confused. All he wanted to do was make you feel alright, why wouldn’t you let him?
A nod. “Yeah,” you breathed in deeply, tear-streaked makeup drying from the gentle wind. “I know.” 
The air had become so thick, you had to gulp down breaths. Chan cocked his head to the side and looked at you soulfully. You were staring at your knees, nervously playing with your fingers, and a flush had crept up your neck to the very tops of your shiny cheeks. He sighed. “I can get, uh,” he hesitated for a moment, “I can get Soonyoung down here. If you want.” You nodded before he was even done talking. Anything was better than sitting across from him - not now. This time you knew better than to look at his face, because you knew your entire facade would break down the moment you’d catch the frown on his face at those words. 
The moment Chan left, you sighed so deeply, relief and despair coming in a pair to crash over you like a wave. Soonyoung came not two minutes later and, ever the great comforter, immediately tried to make you laugh, sitting in the grass right in front of you.
“Oh my god,” he put on his best Jennifer Coolidge voice, “you look like the fourth of July!” _____________________________
Your first instinct was to hide - to turn over a stone and lay under it without breathing. Maybe then, if you separated yourself from him the feelings would simply dissipate, like perfume throughout the day. But you and Chan had a ridiculous amount of classes together, - something you used to enjoy and cherish - and every interaction had become half-awkward. 
What also didn’t help is that him and Irene did not seem to just be a party fling. You were walking the halls with him, backpack slung across your shoulder, and listening to him drone on and on about a date.
“I think it’s the blonde,” he explained, “I think she likes the blond.” He peeked his eyes over to you, as you walked and you nodded. “It looks good,” you smiled, heart crushing when his face lit up, that sharky smile playing on his lips. “Right? But I don’t know what to wear. I don’t think she liked my jacket. You know, at the party.” At the mention of the party, his giddy expression faded a little, eyes flicking back to look at you again.
You’d been different since then. A little quiet and every word a little strained, every breath a huff, every smile somewhat unable to reach your eyes. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. For the life of him, Chan couldn’t. You’d told him when you got a tampon stuck a couple months ago, you’d told him about your awful dates, about your most embarrassing moments in your life. Something had to be serious, he thought, watching the way your eyes had become darker and sunken, for you to shut him out completely.
“Y/n,” he said and his voice was abruptly so, so soft. His hand came to cradle your own, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyebrows cinched together when you looked at the way his thumb caressed your knuckles. “You are okay, right?” and all of a sudden he was so close to you, head bopping downwards to catch your eyes, a little breath becoming humid on your cheek. For just a split second, he saw how scared you were, an emotion that took up all the space in your head, widened eyes darting up to his. Then it was gone. You smiled a tight line, ripping your hand from his. “I’m good. I’d be better if we actually made it to class on time.” 
You were bouncing away and for a few moments he stood still, watching you. 
“Alright,” he whispered to himself.
_____________________________
 You and Chan met through Seungcheol. It was your first year and you were fresh-faced, young and a totally different person. It was your first biochem project and the teacher had paired you with Seungcheol - Seungcheol, who you just so happened to know was amongst the most popular guys at school. He was sweet though, if not a little slow, but he was excited to get into the project and had invited you to his place to study. You had graciously accepted, seeing as your roommate-situation at the time was less than ideal. 
You had just hunkered down with stacks of books and laptops open on his desk, when Seungcheol got a call; to this day you’re not sure about the specifics of it, and all the information you’d later been able to pry from Seungcheol was that “Jeonghan was in trouble”. Whatever the case, the man had taken the phone and immediately taken on a crease in his forehead and a small frown on his lips, before apologizing profusely and promising that he’d be back in 20 minutes or so. 
And there you were, wearing a dress and hairclips and sitting idly at his desk, while his roommate sat, just a few feet from you, on his bed with a controller and a headset on. That was the first time you saw Lee Chan. He had sharp eyes that you found intimidating at the time - especially with the focused grimace he wore, something you later found endearing. And, of course, you knew he was popular as well. How couldn’t he be, when his muscles were showing through his t-shirt, and he looked beautiful even in the domestic state you found him in. Maybe especially in that situation. 
“D’you wanna see me play?” he’d asked, eyes not even leaving the screen. “Um,” your voice was meek, “sure.” 
Seungcheol didn’t come home for another three hours. The sky turned from a bright blue into an orange hue outside the campus-curtains, and you sat cross-legged beside Chan on his bed, watching him play Overwatch. Had it been anyone else, you were sure this would’ve been the longest, most awkward three hours of your life. But for whatever reason, you and Chan just clicked. It was all laughter and smiles, and it felt like you had known each other forever. Fate had whisked the two of you together with a gentle push. That was two years ago. 
Chan defied all your expectations. Surely, a young man who was attractive and popular would be an asshole, you’d thought, but he was so sweet, something that was most apparent when he smiled and laughed, eyes becoming crescents and toothy grin becoming sharp at the upturned edges. 
Maybe you’d always liked him. You’d started reflecting on your relationship after that party, and came to realize that there’d always been a faint mist in your chest. A soft hum that drummed within your ribcage, when you saw him. It was warm, pleasant and constant when you felt his warmth at your side. 
And sure, your relationship had had its moments. You distinctly remembered sitting between his legs while watching a movie once, and how you’d been so uncertain if he was okay with the skinship. His face behind your ear, you heard the smile in his voice, as his hands ran along your arms: “It’s okay, N/n. I’m cool with this if you are.”
You found yourself thinking about that often, but now there was a distinct pain to the memory. It was especially painful, when the gap between you and Chan was widening with every day. He tried to reach out, tried to catch you in the halls, but you were always “busy”. 
Chan caught on to the fact that you were avoiding him when you started showing up late to classes, just so you wouldn’t have to walk with him; hear him talk about Irene, while that once soft drum had become a marching band in your chest. So you scrambled inside 5 minutes late, much to the dismay of your professors, and found a spot with some random classmate - far away from Chan. You’d have your eyes turned to the board, but you couldn’t focus, not really. Like a constant thorn in your side, you felt Chan’s sharp eyes across the room, boring into with such an intensity you thought you might catch on fire. Scribbling useless notes and focusing your energy - what little energy you had - on the class, you determinedly avoid his eyes. Had you seen them, never once darting astray from your form, you’d see the tenderness they held. “Why are you avoiding me?” His eyes said. 
And then: “Why are you avoiding me?” his mouth said, out of breath from chasing after you in your hurried exit. You turned to him, almost bleeding into the blue of the accented-wallpaper. His eyes softened at your wounded expression. You were gently ripping apart at the wish to see him and be around him, with simultaneous urge to ignore him and become free from his scrutinizing gaze. He would never not know that something was wrong.
He scanned the crowded hallway, and gently, almost as if testing the waters (which he hadn’t felt the need to do in years) placed a hand on your upper arm. “Come on.” 
You gave in. God, it was so easy to give in. You missed him. You missed him like a fish might miss water, had it been taken away from it. You missed him like a priest misses God, when his presence ebbs away and the sky is suddenly so very empty. So it was so easy to be led on, to sit down in the passenger of his car and just close your eyes and enjoy how it felt to be beside him. Chan scanned you as he drove, laying there with closed eyes, willing yourself to not look at him again, and realize you had to throw this all away. 
He said nothing that entire car ride. Maybe he sensed the desperate need you felt to just have this silence. You clung to it as if it were tangible, as if someone would take it away. He would, once you entered his apartment. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. You placed yourself on bed and played with the fraying edges of his IKEA duvet cover.
“I miss you.” he said. You sighed, pursing your lips and looking at your fingers. “I miss you too.” 
“You’re avoiding me,” he said, only a faceless presence in your peripheral. 
“I’m not avoiding y-...” you trailed off when he crouched down in front of you, your entire vision cursed (or blessed?) with his frustrated face. “You are,” he said, eyes boring into yours. You trembled. “I’m not, I’m just busy.” He backed away, sulking, and you tried not to make it obvious that you heaved in a shaky breath from the proximity.  “I can tell when you’re lying, you know?” 
You laid down on the bed, arms crossing over your chest as if you were a corpse. Was there a way out of this, you wondered. Every glance, every touch, and every word that dropped from his mouth poked and prodded at you sadistically. 
“I’m not lying.” 
You heard fumbling and raised your head to see Chan, having discarded his shirt, putting on a new one and you cringed at how your heart sped up, seeing his toned stomach, before it disappeared under a sweater. “What are you doing?” you asked. He sighed. He glanced at you before studying himself in the full-length mirror Seungcheol had stolen from Mingyu. 
“I’m going on a date with Irene in, like, twenty minutes.” 
A pause. You sat up.
“Oh.” 
He went on, throwing around scattered clothes and grappling for a cologne in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t cancel this, I don’t think she’ll really appreciate it,” he laughed a little. Throwing his head over his shoulder, his smile faded when he sensed your sorrow. His heart hurt then, so he moved, freshly spritzed with the cologne you bought him last Christmas, to stand in front of you on the bed. Your breath hitched when his hand found your cheek and he was suddenly dripping with sincerity and an emotion you really hoped wasn’t pity. “I just- I really wanted to talk to you, Y/n. I’m really worried about you.” You leaned into his hand pathetically, almost whimpering against it. You missed how his embrace felt. His thumb brushed over your cheek and he lingered there, eyes trained on you for just a moment - perhaps a moment too long - before he pulled away.
Suddenly he was putting on a jacket and ruffling his hair in the mirror again. “If you want you can stay here until I come back? It’ll only be, like, an hour and a half, two hours. Cheol will be home soon, he can keep you company.” 
“Yeah, maybe,” your eyes were huge, when you willed yourself to stare at the floor. Chan must’ve sensed the meekness in your voice, because he looked over at you through the mirror, a frown on his lips. “I promise we’ll talk, I just- I don’t wanna disappoint Irene.” 
It ached when you responded: “There’s nothing to talk about, Channie. I’m fine.” 
“I’ll see you in a couple of hours?” you only nodded half-heartedly. 
“Bye, N/n.” 
“Bye, Channie.” 
He left with a rustle of his keys, and when the door was closed, your body contracted, muscles pulling inwards until you were hugging your knees in his sheets. And you were crying because it smelled like him, and because he had held your cheek with such care, only to leave moments later for another woman. Everything you held dear, every moment you lingered on was just one-sided. Your tears were crystalline confinements for your most treasured memories with him and you were bleeding out on his bed, sliced in the heart.
It was Seungcheol who found you there like that, curling up in his roommate’s bed with painful sobs squeezing your whole body. You told him. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. “I love him,” you cried, and Seungcheol stroked your back, as he listened. “And he doesn’t love me back.” 
You apologized abashedly when you had calmed down, but Seungcheol only tutted and shook his head. “That’s what friends are for,” he’d said and patted your hair, and you giggled even though you felt all silly with your red face and your puffy eyes. The older man promised not to say anything, and you found yourself trusting him completely. You bid your goodbyes and felt a little lighter.
When Chan came home a heavy duvet of regret settled in his stomach. You were gone, only the faint mist of your perfume left behind in his room. When night fell, he slept on a bed stained with your tears. _____________________________
A week passed and you spent every moment alone in your dorm room, ignoring papers and deadlines in favor of lying completely still under the covers. Soonyoung came over with food every once in a while, and always left devastated at how completely disarranged you were. He felt powerless and if there was one thing Kwon Soonyoung didn’t like, it was feeling powerless.
That was how you found yourself in a very John Mulaney-like situation on a monday afternoon, sitting before Soonyoung and, surprisingly, Seungkwan, Soonyoung’s roommate, in a nearby café. 
“What is this?” you asked, arms crossed and leaned back in your seat, unimpressed. Soonyoung smiled sheepishly, sliding a paper across the table. It read “Intervention” in big, bubbly letters, colored with cheap highlighters. “An intervention?” you said incredulously. 
“Yes, we’re worried about you!”
“He’s worried about you. I’m skipping physics for this,” Seungkwan butted in.
“The community is worried about you,” Soonyoung gave a harsh glare to the younger boy, who was mirroring your distaste for the current situation. “So we’re hosting an intervention.” 
“This is bullshit,” you said. “Agreed,” came Seungkwan. 
“Alright, you two! Let Daddy explain,” Hoshi waved his arms in outrage and the two of you groaned at the word choice. “Y/n. I am sick and tired of watching you cry and cry and sit at home over a boy who is fricken’ in love with you!”
“Did you just say ‘fricken’?” 
“Unimportant. The point is get your act together and tell him or get over him!” Soonyoung was determined. While you felt his point of view was certainly unfair to you, your demeanor gave way a little. He was right, you knew. This was ruining you more than you’d care to admit. “You are worth so much more than this.” 
“As much as I hate to contribute to this, Soonyoung has been telling me all about.. Your situation, and I have to say I agree. I thought you and Chan were dating until Soonyoung told me this,” Seungkwan said, smiling sympathetically at you. You frowned. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think, you know. He doesn’t see me like that.. It just fucking hurts.” 
“If he doesn’t see you like that, then fuck him--”
“Don’t say that, Soonyoung--” 
“You need to put your energy into a man who will know your worth!” Soonyoung sassed and Seungkwan snapped his fingers once for emphasis, face totally blank.
“I know you’re right, okay?” you reasoned, sighing. “It’s not as simple as that. I know you want to help, Soonyoung, but.. I just need time.” 
Soonyoung deflated, but he understood. I guess he was a little powerless in this situation. Even Seungkwan, who definitely was not thrilled about missing physics, smiled sorely. You watched them and hated yourself for bringing worry to everyone around. Like an oil spill in the ocean, your black mass infected everything around you. They’d done nothing and here you were, parading your sadness like My Chemical Romance in 2006. 
“Thank you anyway.”  _____________________________
Chan was theorizing. There were only so many things that could happen so suddenly, that could make you push him away like this. He hadn’t seen you in a week and he’d begun biting his nails again. Every waking moment had become consumed with this question: why? Why were you acting like this? Irene would pointedly comment on how quiet he was being, and his lies came like flowing water. 
Chan was certain that he’d never experienced anything harder than watching you unravel everyday. Every morning more disheveled than the last, every smile more dull. Let me help you, he’d think, watching you slump in your seat on the other side of the room, running an unsteady hand over your face. You’d even found a way to avoid him after class. Day after day he’d run after you when you sped out of class, and when he reached the hallway where students were pouring out, you’d be gone like a faint ghost. 
Irene ended things with him over a text. “I just don’t see us working out anymore,” it’d read and lying in his room he’d sighed quietly. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The text diverted his attention for only a minute, before he was staring at the ceiling again, thinking of you. It had to have something to do with him somehow. But no matter how much he scrutinized every interaction you’d had, he came up blank. 
“Are you okay?” It was Seungcheol, standing in the doorway and hanging his jacket on their clothing rack while eyeing him. He’d hardly heard him come in. Chan heaved a sigh, long lines of worry oozing out of him. 
“Y/n’s been acting really weird with me. I can’t figure out if it’s something I did,” Chan squeezed his eyes shut. “I just want her to be okay.” 
Seungcheol frowned sympathetically. “Maybe you should just leave her alone.” Chan’s eyes sprung open and he grimaced, before ruffling the sheets where he sat up on the bed. Seungcheol was settling himself onto his bed, phone in hand and head against the headboard. “Why are you saying that?” 
For a moment, Seungcheol flashed his brown eyes with a hint of ‘oh shit’ in them, before they relaxed and he regained composure. “I don’t know, maybe she just needs some time away from you.” 
A pause swallowed the room. Chan studied his friend with furrowed brows. “Did she talk to you?” 
“Uh-” 
“You know why she’s acting like this!” Chan raised his voice, weeks of frustration crackling in the pit of his stomach. He stood up, so he could tower over Seungcheol’s bed. “Relax, man, I don’t know anything-” 
“You do! Tell me what’s going on, Seungcheol-” Only a few words had been shared, but they’d tugged at the right strings, and suddenly Chan’s muscles were tightened as they buried into Seungcheol’s collar. The older man scowled and wrapped his hands around his roommate’s wrists in warning. Chan’s hold untightened and unscrewed and he slumped in on himself like a piece of paper, “please, Seungcheol, please. I’m going crazy.” 
Seungcheol’s gaze softened. He pushed the boy’s hands away and sat up on the bed, voice a low, solemn grumble. “I can’t tell you.” 
“Fucking please, Seungcheol. What if something happened to her? At that party. I keep thinking about it, how I wasn’t with her, and what if some asshole harassed her or something. I googled it and Google said women can feel lost, lonely and embarrassed over stuff like that,” Chan started pacing. “And then I was thinking what if it was a friend of ours? And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell me, but, of course, I’d support her in anything she told me.” 
Chan stilled in his wandering across the narrow floorspace. “Can you at least tell me she’s okay?” 
All sharp eyes and blonde hair and panted breaths Chan stood in the middle of the room and waited for Seungcheol to tell him that you were okay. Chan would’ve even been at peace with Seungcheol telling him that you never wanted to see him again, fuck, as long as you were fine and you still laughed and smiled, even if it was with Soonyoung and not him.
But the answer didn’t come. Seungcheol frowned and fiddled with his watch. “I don’t think so, man.” 
Whatever ties had held Chan back before snapped. He stood still for maybe three seconds in the unlit room, before his body burst into action and he was scrambling for his jacket and keys.
“Fuck this.” 
Sprinting down monotonous corridors, a hard-headed Chan let wisps of blonde hair flow behind as the air kissed his cheeks. He wore the crease in his brow that had become permanently etched onto his features. Chan had a one track mind; maybe that’s why things didn’t - wouldn’t - work out with Irene. Currently, the record spinning was you and he’d gone damn near insane, so this time he’d made up his mind. He was not leaving until you talked to him. Whisking past door after door in the quiet nighttime, catching Wonwoo exiting some random dorm and smiling sheepishly, he ignored him and braved forward. 
It was not until he was standing right in front of your door that he hesitated. The door framed his figure entirely, trapping him within its confines. What if Seungcheol was right? What if he was making things worse? 
But for Chan, he wasn’t sure that he could go any lower. Every day had become a new rock bottom, every day that you avoided him, every moment wondering what he could have possibly done. He missed your smile. So then he was knocking at your door.
“Fuck off, Soonyoung, I’m not going to anymore interventions!” you yelled, voice hoarse from beyond the door. Intervention? Had you developed a drug problem? He knocked again and heard you groan, before heavy footsteps thumped towards him. 
“What do you want, Soonyo-” you paused, door half-creaked open. Your eyes were two moons, and your nose and cheeks were red. “Chan,” you breathed, voice nasally from a stuffy nose. Chan said nothing, only pushed past you to get inside. You sniffled.
Your heart was a bomb, or maybe a firework. Chan had lit the fuse and standing before him, where he was half lit in the middle of your room, you knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded, chest blazing with a parade of colors for the fourth of July. Because it was him, a greek fucking god in your toy-decorated room, in his sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and it was you, wimpish and thoroughly out of order, in pyjama shorts and a pink sweater. 
“Come. Here.” He wasn’t asking. You nodded and took two steps, and the moment you were within arms reach he enveloped you in his chest. His arms were so strong and warm, one wrapping around your waist and the other bunching up your hair to keep you pressed into him. Your cheek bunched up against his heart, you closed your eyes and heard how fast it was beating. He was scared. 
“Talk to me,” you could hear it, too, the fear. His voice was trembling and even though you couldn’t see his face you could imagine his brown eyes glazed over and lips in a pout. The thought squeezed at your heart. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut at the raspiness in your voice. “Don’t be, just talk to me. Please,” his voice was a wavering breath. He pulled away, head ducking down to peer into your eyes. Your cheeks burned and you looked away, becoming completely enamored with the white of his shirt, just for the sake of not seeing his eyes. Then both his hands were on your cheeks, a little harsh at first, but then softening. “Look at me.” 
He leaned closer, one hand straying from your cheek to hold you by the back of the head. “Look. At. Me.” he gritted his teeth and you felt the warmth of his face hitting yours. You did. You looked at him, saw him again, really, the guy you’d been avoiding and simultaneously praying closer to you standing before you like a kicked puppy. Suddenly you were crying. It felt like he’d turned you inside out. 
“No, no, no, don’t cry, pretty, talk to me, talk to Channie, okay?” he frowned before he was pushing your face closer, nosing your cheek and hair, just a big baby in front of you, with hot and humid breaths on your freshly wetted skin when his lips brushed over it. His hand on the back of your head was only urging you closer, and his back was hunched in a long arch just so he could be with you, as close to you as possible. 
And while his touch was bliss for a moment, the reality of it came crashing down, and your hands waved him off, taking a step back, which Chan followed with a step forward. He looked so hurt, hands held out for you to take but you shook your head.
“Don’t- Don’t do this to me, Chan. Not when-” you were shaking when you reached up to rub over your eyes. “Not when- Not when you have Irene to go back to.” 
“Irene?” He asked incredulously, almost in outrage, almost as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. It spurred you on. “That’s what this is about?” 
“No!” you cried, “Or- yes, I don’t know.” 
Chan was silent for a few moments when you began pacing, hands over your eyes. “You were jealous?” 
“No- That’s not the point!” your lip trembled when you removed your hands and looked at him again, his arms at his sides, now that he didn’t have you to hold.
“We were never going to stop being friends, you know-” his voice was quiet and yours overpowered his easily, when you screamed at him to say: “I didn’t want to be friends!” 
Boom goes the dynamite, indeed. Fireworks filled every crevice of your ribcage.
“Because I love you,” you paused only to flick your eyes over to his, and you sucked in the fear. Your voice shook when you continued: “And I think I have for- for, like, a year? And I only realized on the fourth of July and there you were with Irene, and I just… And I thought if I backed off these feelings would go away, because you obviously don’t-” 
“Irene broke up with me,” his voice was much quieter than yours. You wanted to scream and cry and yell, because what did that matter? Why did that matter when it changed nothing? But then he spoke again: “She broke up with me because I kept thinking about you.” 
Silence. It hit you that Chan was not informing you, he was telling himself this.
“Yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled dryly, “I kept being quiet on our dates, ‘cause I was thinking about you. I guess she sensed it.” 
You were looking at each other in the dim lights. He was so beautiful, cheeks shiny and soft lashes curling over his lids. You sniffled. “Does that mean that you-” 
Yes.
Yes, it did, because before you could even finish your sentence he was taking a step forward and his hand was on your cheek again and this time his lips were on yours and fireworks, fireworks exploded in your chest and on your lips like bursts of static, but this time it wasn’t pained, it was beautiful, and you’re melting into his hold, just as he was yours. Lips moving in perfect unison, he tilted his head down and you tilted yours up, and grabbed his neck, and his other hand slid onto your waist, resting there, as the two of you rocked under the artificial light of your overhead lamp. 
Everything you yearned for was in your hands and you didn't dare to pull away, only whimpering when you ran out of breath, and chasing his lips when he pulled away to breathe. He chuckled, mouth curved upwards in that beautiful smile that you love. You love it, and there’s no point in hiding it. He pressed his forehead against yours and you’re panting into each other’s mouths.
“I love you too,” he said. You grinned, a perfect blush spread across your rounded cheeks, and his heart soared so much that he had to kiss you again, pecking and mumbling it again and again against your lips: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 
His tongue slid over your lip and you opened your mouth with a squeak. His tongue was wet and warm in your mouth and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pushing them into his. Then he pulled away, blushing himself when a string of spit connects you. “Is this okay?” he asked, so softly, so gently, and you nodded, flushed and out of breath and pathetically desperate.
“Yes,” you whined, “need you so bad.” He cooed when you pressed your hips into his, long fingers brushing hair out of your face. “Channie’s gonna take care of you. Channie’s gonna make it up to you,” and yet again it's almost like he was saying it to himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he lowered the two of you onto your bed. Hair strands stretched from their roots in your head, when you hit your plush pillow, and you were all shiny and sparkling eyes, laid out before him in a way that he never dared to imagine. “Too pretty,” he whispered, kissing you again. 
He was grinding into you, anchoring himself on your waist and whimpering into the corner of your mouth at the feeling of your warm center through your shorts. “Baby, need you so bad. Can I take this off?” he tugged at your shirt and you nodded, unable to get anything out but whines. He pulled off the pink fabric, marveling at your bare chest before him. Of course, he’d seen it before, in tight shirts, on days where you’d decided to forgo a bra, and he’d always cursed himself for imagining the real thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he cried, as he hit your core just right and he stared at your tits’ slight jiggle. 
“Such a pretty baby, so ready for me, can I touch them, please, please?” he was babbling, somehow already pussydrunk, but you were no better, eyebrows cinched together in pleasure, nodding without even an ounce of hesitation at his request. He groped at your chest, thumbs brushing over the hardened buds, before he ducked his head down to suck on one. You’re gasping, as his tongue flicked over you, hands tangling themselves in his hair, moaning his name into the air. He hummed loudly, and you felt a thick glob of wetness escape your pussy at just the sight of him, hunched over you like a wild animal, panting into your chest.
“You’re so pretty,” you whispered and he let go of your tit with a small ‘pop’, lifting his head to look at you. He was grinning ear to ear, face still hovering over your chest. “Am I?” and suddenly he was so cocky, hand cupping your heat through your shorts, and watching as you buck into his hand with a strangled moan. “Needy girl, need pretty Channie to touch you, hm?” He teased, fingers gently rubbing over the fabric of your damp shorts.
“Please,” you whined, thrashing in the sheets, desperate enough to cry. He cooed and shushed you, hovering over you by one, strong arm: “Shh, sweetheart, shh, I know. I got you, I’ll make you feel good.” As much as Chan wanted to make you beg, he was desperate too, and he couldn’t help the slight guilt of what you’d been through. The thought almost made him frown, but he pushed it away and peeled off your shorts and underwear in one swoop. 
You cried out when his fingers were finally sliding through your folds. Your eyes, half closed, flicked up to see him, gaze trained on your core in amazement. “You’re so wet, baby,” he purred, spreading the warm slick up to your clit to start circling it with two fingers. “Just for you- Mngh!” 
He plunged two fingers into you with ease, wetness coating his fingers to let them slide in. You were panting and thrashing and moaning his name, and he just watched with the biggest hardon he’d ever had, how he made you feel good and how pretty you were, and how much he never wanted to pull his fingers out of your sopping wet heat. 
“Do you want my fingers in your mouth?” he asked, and you squeezed your eyes shut and nodded vigorously. “Hey, hey,” the fingers that weren’t plunging in and out of you and curling into your pussy’s sweet spot, squeezed your chin. Your eyelashes fluttered open, and you stared at him with blown out eyes. “You gotta look at me while you do it.” 
Then his fingers prodded at your lips, and you opened them with a whine, willing yourself to keep them open, to see how he smiled adoringly down at you. They were filling you just right, one hand stuck in your pussy and the in your mouth, teasing over your tongue. Your orgasm was approaching, knotting in your stomach, embarrassingly fast. 
He groaned at the sight of you, looking up at him with huge, adoring eyes while sucking his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, good girl, such a good, appreciative girl, taking my fingers wherever she can.” You clenched around him at that, and he chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, you like being my good girl? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.” 
You released his fingers only to moan - almost scream - his name, as you came around his fingers, curling into you and working you through your orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on Channie’s fingers. Look so pretty when you cum.” 
You were still dazed on your bed in the glimmering aftermath of your post-orgasm, when you heard Chan shuffling beside you, and then he was leaning over you once again, shirt and pants discarded and cock proud and stiff and leaking precum onto your stomach. You groaned at the sight, hand trailing over his exposed stomach, where abs dipped and rose, glistening softly. Then your thumb caressed and pressed against his slit and he hissed, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. 
He nosed at your neck, pecking a little, before speaking, voice too strained and too pretty: “Can I fuck you, baby? Please, please, I need to feel you around me so bad.” He had shut his eyes tight, fighting the urge to grab hold of your back and press your tits into his chest.
“Please,” you came back equally as whiny, writhing in his hold, where his thumb was rubbing soft circles in your hip bone. “Please, wan’ your cock. Need it.” He smiled into your neck, grabbing your head and kissing your cheek. “So cute.” 
You felt the head of his cock slide through your still impossibly wet folds, then pressing against your entrance. You were murmuring his name over and over and he was panting into your neck and licking a stripe of wet glistening saliva onto it, as he began to push in. 
You were writhing so much he had to place his hands on your hips to still you, whispering soft reassurances until he was pushed all the way, clit pushed into his abdomen. You’re so full, you can’t stop the wanton moans at the feeling of his pretty, red cock, every bulge and vein pressed against your gummy walls. “You’re so fucking tight,” he spat, fearful that he’d spill his load into you immediately from the way you were clenching him. Then, slowly, he was rocking into you and the both of you were clambering onto one another. Your hands found his neck, his hair, his flexing biceps, and his your hips, waist, boob, and then clambering up to hold your face and look into your eyes. 
“Look at me,” you almost didn’t catch the way he repeated those words from before, but you looked into his brown orbs, blonde hair curling over and tickling your forehead. “So fucking pretty, so cute, my little cumslut. Say you want my cum, baby, please, say it.” 
“Wan’ your cum!” you cried, as he angled his cock inside you to press into that spongy spot. He was giving in to all his wants at your words, pulling you up by pressing his arms under your back, so your tits pressed against his chest, and he was nosing at your face again, trailing kisses everywhere he could reach. “So good for me, so pretty, all mine. Fuck, sweetheart.” 
“All yours,” you babbled mindlessly, when his hand snaked between your bodies to rub circles into your clit. “Cum for me, cum for me, baby.” 
His thrusts were growing sloppy, and you felt the knot tightening in you once more, pulled tight and ready to snap. “Cum, cum, come on, my pretty darling. Fuck, Y/n, I love you!” 
At those words you came, pussy pulsating around his cock and clenching so tight, he was unsure if he could even pull out in time. He did though, pulling out just in time to see his seed spill all over your soft stomach. 
Panting and out of breath, his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of you, body covering yours. “Ugh,” you groaned and looked up at you, laughing softly. “Chan, you’re heavy,” you complained. “I’m a weighted blanket,” he countered, but climbed off of you anyway, lying down next to you. You looked at him, with the side profile of a god, and his blonde hair tousled and chest rising and falling.
“You are pretty,” you said, and you could almost cry when he looked at you and blushed. 
“You should’ve just told me,” he whispered, turning his head to gaze at you. You frowned and nodded. “But it doesn't matter now,” he reassured, one hand climbing from the sloping, bunched up duvet and running his hand through your hair. He tilted his gaze towards your cum covered stomach, some of it having smeared onto himself, and he pushed himself off the bed. "I'll get a towel."
Naked and divine, he disappeared into your small bathroom.
“Oh, God..” you groaned suddenly, face morphing into anguish.
“What?” Chan called from the bathroom.
“Soonyoung is going to be the most insufferable person on the planet when he finds out about this."
1K notes · View notes
03jyh23 · 2 days
Text
— i haven't kissed you yet today || choi san
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genre: fluff
trigger warnings: none
words: 900
reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
— hi there! this request was in my inbox for an unholy amount of time. currently, i need some breather from all the angst im working on and i decided to give this request a shot! hope my lovely anon will enjoy this small piece of work!
love, monika. ♡
if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!
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You were lying on your bed, the soft comforter providing a comforting warmth. The setting sunbathed the bedroom in a beautiful golden light. It was a lazy day, with your activities limited to fetching food or using the bathroom while binge-watching your new favorite series. In recent weeks San's schedule become incredibly hectic due to his idol responsibilities, leaving him little time for his boyfriend duties. He had left home early today again, and you were somewhat upset that he hadn't woken you up to say goodbye. Picking up your phone, you contemplated sending a message, but decided against it, not wanting to add to his already overwhelming responsibilities. Instead, you nestled deeper into the comforter. After several hours of continuous watching, even the most interesting series could lose its charm. So, you decided it was time to close your laptop and give your eyes a much-needed rest. You twisted and turned, trying to find that perfect spot. The bedroom was silent, save for the occasional rustling of the sheets. The golden hues of the setting sun had long faded, replaced by the soft glow of the moonlight seeping through the window. 
Awoken by the noise of unlocking doors, you were in a half-asleep, half-awake state. You clung to your comforter, pulling it closer to your body in a futile attempt to stay asleep. Its weight seemed to keep you in your dreams, but reality kept intruding. You heard the rustle of fabric as San removed his jacket, the sound a testament to the long day he must have had. Following that, the muted thud of his bag hitting the floor echoed in the quiet room. A few heartbeats later, the soft patter of his steps grew louder as he approached the bedroom. Soon after, you heard his footsteps getting louder as he came towards the bedroom. The bed dipped slightly under his weight as he slid in beside you. You could feel the warmth radiating from your boyfriend, his scent filled your nostrils, combining his faded cologne and a faint hint of sweat. 
"Baby?" San murmured, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "Are you awake?" he asked gently, trying not to startle you. Despite your best efforts to remain asleep, the sound of his voice pulled you towards consciousness. You hummed in response, still unwilling to open your eyes. He chuckled softly at your response. "I'm sorry I came home late," he whispered, his voice laced with guilt. 
You shrugged lightly, turning your face to him. "It's okay," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the comforter. "I'm just glad you're home." He smiled in the darkness, pulling you closer. His arms wrapped around you, providing a warmth far better than any comforter. 
San leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. "You know," he said, his playful voice filled with affection, "I haven't kissed you yet today." 
Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. You chuckled softly, looking into his eyes. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" you replied, barely a whisper against the intimate silence. With a gentle, almost shy smile, San closed the small distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made time seem to slow down, each moment lingering in the sweet love between you. "Better?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 
"Much better," he replied, his thumb tracing a soft line along your jaw. "But I think I need one more, just to be sure." 
You chuckled softly, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. "Well, if you insist," you teased, your lips finding his once more. It was just you and San, wrapped up in each other, sharing a perfect moment. It was a reminder of why you loved him so much, and why, despite the hectic schedules, you wouldn't change a thing. 
San pulled you in closer, your head now resting on his chest. You could hear the steady rhythm of his heart beating, a comforting lullaby in the quiet room. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for longer than usual. "Goodnight, baby," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection. As the whisper left his lips, you felt a sense of calm envelope you. The day's stress seemed to melt away with your boyfriend's comforting presence. A soft sigh escaped you, content as you drifted to sleep, nestled securely against him. San's hand gently ran through your hair, the action absent-minded yet filled with affection. It was a simple gesture, one that he probably wasn't even aware of, but it spoke volumes about his feelings for you. It was these moments, the quiet, intimate exchanges when it was just the two of you, that made everything worth it. You knew that no matter how hectic life got, you'd always have these moments to look forward to - the quiet nights spent in each other's arms, the shared laughter and whispered words of love. As you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, you knew that despite the challenges, there was nowhere else you'd rather be. 
174 notes · View notes
mhahaikyuus · 1 month
Text
Hair
wc:; 1.4k
tags: black reader x katsuki, newly established relationship (still trying to keep up the illusion for your partner), black reader doing her hair, emotional reader, Katsuki being the rational calm boyfriend, fluffy, cute ending.
a/n: i skimmed barely proofread sorry for any mistakes, hope you guys enjoy. reblogs appreciated.
“I can come over tonight?” Katsuki asked on speaker of your phone. 
You two spent everyday together since he had confessed to you by shoving flowers into your hands and running off before you had a chance to respond in slight shock. 
“Uh I’m busy tonight sorry.” You said watching yourself in the mirror studying your scalp distracted. 
“Okay what about tomorrow?” Katsuki grunted unhappy he would spend time away from you. 
“Tomorrow I'm busy too, i can’t hang out this weekend.” You said eyeing the thin black plastic bag filled with beauty supplies sitting on your vanity. 
He frowned, you always told him about upcoming plans you had. At lunch always rambling about whatever you wanted and him listening with small grunts and nods. You didn’t mention anything before about plans. 
“What are you doing?” He asked. Not wanting to pry so early into a relationship and scare you off. He had plans to make you his permanently but he was nosey. 
“My hair,” You answered honestly.
“What do you mean your hair? It takes that long?” He asked confused. 
“Yeah, it does. I have a lot of hair and it takes a lot of hours sometimes a couple of days.” You admitted with a sigh already dreading the process. 
Katsuki sat there on the other side of the phone with a small sigh of relief. You weren’t blowing him off with anyone else, just your hair. He had no idea about black hair but he knew he cared about you and that meant this was important. 
“Do you need help?” He offered making you silent in surprise widely blinking at the phone. 
The man that would tell his partner in the field to fuck off when he asked. Was readily offering you his help. 
You let out a small laugh, “I do but I don’t think you know what that entails. It’s a really long process and it’s tiring. Im okay though thanks for asking.” 
He just wanted to see you. After spending every day together for a month, he doesn’t know if he could go 3 days. 
“Alright the offer still stands if you change your mind. Don’t tire yourself out.” He sighed and you both said your goodbyes. 
You fiddled with the ends of your hair with a huff. 
“Let’s get this over with.” 
~
You wanted to ram your head into a wall. Staring at half your head being braided, 10 hours down and probably another 7 to go. 
Your back hurt, your arms hurt, your head hurt it was not ideal. Not eating all day and getting irritated at everything you were in a mood. 
Throwing the rat tail comb from your hands on the floor you flopped onto your bed in tears needing a break. 
Your phone began buzzing, face still in the mattress you reached around til you found it and pressed answer button. 
“Hello,” You answered muffled 
“Hey how’s it going?” Bakugo asked 
You sniffled pulling your head up tears running. 
“It’s fine.” 
Bakugo heard how upset you were causing his forehead to crease, “What’s wrong baby?” in a softer voice. 
“It’s nothing it’s just my hair and i’m tired and cranky and i haven’t eaten all day. I’ve only done maybe half of my head and i want to stop.” You said through tears. 
“Hey, hey please stop crying it’ll be okay.” Katsuki said trying to soothe you through the phone but it wasn’t working. Noticing a twinge in his chest at the sound of your soft sniffles.
You left out small huffs trying to control your breathing, “Yeah…sorry I should go you don’t want to hear me crying. Sorry to bother.” You realized you were probably scaring away the one guy you did like with your hysterics. 
“No I didn-“ 
“I have to go thanks for calling.” 
Katsuki stared at the phone feeling his stomach sink. 
~
You cried until your eyes were puffy and reluctantly went back to braiding your hair. You were so impatient and tender headed but you would not spend 200+ dollars on box braids. 
After about an hour you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to your boyfriend with a bag of takeout and one from the pharmacy. 
You yelped in surprise slamming the door just as fast as you opened it. 
Katsuki was very confused and kind of hurt at your reaction. 
“Y/n! What the fuck come on.” He yelled from the other side of the door. 
Your face held such embarrassment, hoping this was a figment of your imagination. 
Your boyfriend was NOT here when you looked like a hot mess. 
Your non-black boyfriend at that. 
This is a nightmare. 
“What are you doing here!” You yelled back through the door. 
“Baby you were crying and I haven’t seen you in almost 2 days!"
You groaned, “You can’t see me like this! you have to go home.” 
He grunted in annoyance, “You better open up. Im not leaving when you were crying.” 
You were silent waiting for him to go home and he wasn’t budging. With a sigh you opened the door peaking out at him. 
“Are ya gonna let me in?” He asked with raised blond eyebrows and pretty crimson eyes.
You opened the door and stepped aside. 
“What’s wrong why are you slamming doors and crying?” He asked looking down at you as he entered your apartment.  
You slowly closed the door behind you and leaned back against it. 
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You admitted thankful that you didn't blush noticeably.
“Baby like what.” He sighed dropping the bags on your coffee table and bringing you in close. 
Your head fell into his muscular chest, smelling his cologne.
“My hair.” You mumbled into his shirt.
He pulled back and used one hand to push back your hair to see your face. Your hair is in sections and a half-braided mess. 
“I like you and your hair. So will you calm down please?” 
“Really?” You asked with teary eyes looking up at him. 
“Yes, I do.” He reassured his hands gently holding you, his main goal to calm you down from this tired anxiety driven mood.
“Okay.” You mumbled head falling back into his chest. 
He rubbed your back, “What’s going on?” asking again. 
“I stayed up all night and im not even halfway done. I have a headache.” You mumbled in tears. 
Katsuki led you to the couch and made you take a seat. 
“Take a break. You look hangry and I brought food.” He said propping you in his lap and handing you takeout. 
You finished your food and leaned your head in his neck. Your headache stopping. He was right as usual, you were hangry. 
“I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face that was mean.” You said wrapping him in a side hug. 
His hand rubbed the side of your thigh with a light kiss on your nose. 
“It’s okay, ya didnt break my nose with the door slam.” Katsuki said making you laugh.
“Can I?” He asked gesturing to your head and you nodded. 
Katsuki’s thick fingers touching your blow dried hair. 
“It’s soft.” He said with mild surprise, “Like really soft.” 
You laughed, “Yeah I do have soft hair, but so do you.” Reaching up and lightly tugging on his spiky blonde hair. His hair was getting longer in the back. It may be because he loves your hands all over him and especially his head, giving you more hair to yank. Just a theory of course you would never say to him.
He grunted, “You feel better?” 
“Yes…” You nodded as he smiled knowing what he was gonna say
“Crying over the being hungry?” He teased showing his canines with his smile and you rolled your eyes. 
“Shut up.” 
“I’m just saying.” 
“Are you discriminating against a black woman?” You squinted but Bakugo had heard that before. 
“I just came over here with food to stop your crying and got a door slammed in my face.” He said with narrowed eyes matching your own.
“Uh fine.” You sighed, “Can you not be a good boyfriend so I can call you a bigot.” Your hand trailing up his stomach under his shirt, wanting skin to skin contact.
He pinched the inside of your thigh making you yelp in pain in response. His head deeply buried into your neck just enjoying your touch
“Ow…”You whined rubbing the bruised spot. 
206 notes · View notes
megalony · 8 months
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I Kept Calling
This is an Eddie Diaz imagine requested by Anon, thank you for this I hope you like it. Any feedback is always lovely, thank you all for the requests they keep me inspired.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway
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Summary: Eddie goes against his gut and goes to work even though Christopher is ill. But when he gets worse and (Y/n) can't get hold of Eddie, she has to go to the hospital on her own.
Enjoy.
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A morphed smile pulled at Eddie's lips around the toothbrush stuck between his teeth and a deep chuckle vibrated through his chest. He tilted his head to the right and leaned back a little but it didn't do him much good.
The little girl in his arm continued to bat her small fist out, aiming for the toothbrush she clearly thought was a toy he wouldn't let her have. A small gurgle left her lips and she batted her hand against his chest when she couldn't reach what she was aiming for. Her chin moved to prop up on his shoulder and she looked behind him for something else to occupy herself with, letting Eddie finally finish brushing his teeth and rinse his mouth out.
Just when he leaned over the sink to spit out the mouthwash, her legs started to swing and her feet bashed into his stomach making him groan.
"What are you doing to me, eh?" He mumbled quietly and she squealed into his shoulder and started to dribble on his dark navy blue shirt. At least she wasn't throwing up on him, he didn't have the time to change or the excuses to arrive to work with a messed up uniform.
Eddie bounced the six-month-old on his hip as he walked out the bathroom and wandered down towards Christopher's room. He had to get going in a few minutes and he wanted to say goodbye before he left.
He poked his head around the bedroom door but his smile started to fade away when he took in the sight in front of him. Christopher was sat on the floor next to the bed, wrapped up in his dressing gown with the sick bucket on his lap. He looked very pasty and grey with no trace of blood rush to his cheeks and his head was flopped against the mattress.
And then there was (Y/n), stood next to the end of the bed that she had just finished stripping. The bedding was balled up in a pile on the floor and (Y/n) had her hands on her hips when she turned around and a soft smile spread across her face.
"We had a small accident, couldn't make it to the bathroom in time," (Y/n) kept her voice soft and quiet but she smiled down at her boy to let him know neither of them were angry or annoyed. He couldn't help it, all through the night he hadn't been feeling well and he had constantly cried out for them. (Y/n) had found Eddie asleep in the bed with Christopher at midnight, staying with him had been the only thing that seemed to settle him.
And when she came in this morning to check on him and wake him up, he was trying to get out of bed but he didn't have the energy and he threw up all over the bed.
"Oh damn… you don't look so good buddy." Eddie's lips curled into a deep setting frown when Christopher barely raised his head and just about managed to look over at him and form a little smile.
"Are you going now?" (Y/n) glanced at the clock before she looked back at him and Lola who was gurgling quietly into his shoulder and kicking her legs out making Eddie jiggle and move along with her.
"I don't know if I should, he doesn't look well. I can call Cap and take the day off."
Eddie looked between the two kids before he looked back at (Y/n) and bit his lower lip. He never liked to leave Chris when he wasn't well, it played on his mind when he was at work and he couldn't settle until he was back home to look after him. And it wasn't just Chris anymore, (Y/n) would have to battle with Chris and Lola who both needed a lot of attention and care. He would feel guilty heading off to work and leaving (Y/n) with the pair of them to look after on her own.
"No, no you go, they need you. We'll be fine, it's a pyjama day anyway." (Y/n) crossed the room until she was stood in front of him and she could loop her arms around his waist, reeling herself closer to them both until Eddie took the hint and wrapped his free arm around her middle.
It was short notice to call in for the day and it wouldn't be fair when the station always needed as many hands on as possible. (Y/n) could take care of the kids, Chris was going to have a movie day on the sofa anyway and Lola wasn't a fussy baby, not really.
"I promise I'll call you if we need anything." She kissed his neck just below his ear where his sweet spot was and felt him shiver beneath her light touch. She knew he was going to worry but if anything happened he knew she would ring and tell him. Whether it was to ask him to come home because Chris was getting worse or just to let him know that he was feeling better.
"Okay," His hand moved from her waist up to cup her face so he could kiss her before she unravelled her arms from around his waist to let him move. He held Lola up in the air, grinning up at her lovingly when he brushed their noses together and pressed a big kiss to her cheek. "Bye princess." He muttered quietly before gently placing her into (Y/n)'s waiting arms.
He crossed over and bent down in front of Christopher, feeling his heart weigh heavy in his chest when he looked down at him. He didn't seem too bad, he was pale and clearly sick but he was still trying to smile and he looked like he needed a good rest.
"I gotta go now, bud. Do you want me to take you over to the sofa?" He could see that Chris didn't look like he had the energy to lift himself up, let alone walk through to the living room to collapse down on the sofa.
"Yes please," Chris nuzzled his face into Eddie's shoulder and looped his arms around his neck, giggling quietly when Eddie picked him up effortlessly and leaned him into his chest. It didn't seem to matter how old Christopher got, he always loved being carried around by his dad and Eddie loved to pick him up and swing him round. He was all for Christopher being independent and learning new skills, but he was still his little boy at the end of the day and if he wanted to be carried around, Eddie wasn't going to say no.
Eddie carried him down the hall and through into the living room and bent over the sofa, carefully laying him down before he scouted round for one of the many blankets they had lying around the house. He knew Chris would bury himself in blankets and pillows today and watch movies with (Y/n); he was in good hands.
"Here we go, alright I'll see you tonight. I love you, be good for your mum, yeah?"
"Yeah, love you."
Eddie pressed a lasting kiss to his forehead before he went to grab his bag and keys. It was only twelve hours, it would fly by.
***
"Mummy…"
(Y/n) pulled her lip between her teeth and quickly leaned over the crib to pick up Lola who was wriggling, red in the face from crying and sounding the alarm that she wanted something. She had barely been put down for her nap and she was kicking up a fuss again, most likely needing a change since she hadn't long been fed her bottle.
"Mummy!"
"I'm coming sweetheart, I'm coming," She leaned Lola in the crook of her left arm comfortably before she turned and headed out of the nursery.
Her steps were light but quick down the hallway towards the lounge where she had left Chris on his way to sleep with Scooby Doo on tv in the background for him.
When she got into the lounge, she carefully laid Lola down in the playcot beneath the baby window, letting her wriggle and whimper and kick up a fuss. She was going to have to wait a minute or settle herself back down to sleep becaise Christopher needed (Y/n) too.
"Chris, what's wrong honey?" (Y/n) could see the problem before she finished speaking. He was half sitting, half slouched on the sofa with the blue sick bucket in his lap and a mixture of juice and water dribbling from his lips. She'd kept placing new cups of juice and water on the coffee table for him so he stayed hydrated since he wasn't eating anything. But it was making him feel sick too and now anything he tried to keep down was coming back up with vengence. "It's okay," Her voice was gentle and she tried her best to smile despite her growing worry.
She knelt down on the floor in front of him and rubbed her hand up and down his back until she was sure he'd finished throwing up. And she placed the bucket back down on the floor right below him so if he couldn't grab it, at least he could lean over and aim for it.
Scanning her eyes across the coffee table, (Y/n) grabbed the thermometer and gently pushed it into Chris's ear. He didn't look too good and he was going to dehydrate himself if he carried on being sick like this.
He had a fever.
"Let's take this off, it's a bit stuffy in here," (Y/n) smiled but it didn't hide the concern in her eyes when she leaned over and helped him take off his dressing gown and move the blanket to the other side of the sofa. Keeping him warm was only going to elevate his temperature and if it got any higher it would be dangerous. She didn't like where this was going. "Okay, now let's try and get some medicine in you see if it helps."
She highly doubted he would be able to keep something as simple as calpol down when he was like this but she had to try. The one good thing about Chris when he was sick was that he didn't mind taking his medicine. Most kids his age spat it out, refused, cried and played up something rotten; Chris just took whatever medicine he was given. Even if it didn't taste nice, all he did was grimace and ask for a drink.
(Y/n) kissed his temple and helped him lay back down against the pillows before she got up and walked over to the kitchen to grab her phone. She needed to call Eddie.
No answer. Fuck.
"Hey babe, it's me… Chris still doesn't feel good and I might have to take him to the emergency room. Can you call me back when you get a minute please?"
She would give it an hour. An hour to see if the medicine did any good and see if Chris could keep a drink down and keep his temperature down. If not, she would call Eddie again and drive down to A&E with the kids.
Her eyes cast over to the crib in the corner and she felt a small swell of relief when she saw that Lola had settled herself down and was starting to nod back off to sleep. It was one less thing for (Y/n) to do if Lola could calm herself even if for a little while. She headed over to the sofa and sat down, moving Chris's legs so they rested over her lap and her hands gently rubbed up and down his legs to try and comfort him.
Every few minutes (Y/n) glanced down at her watch, wishing time would magically speed up or that Eddie would soon get her message and give her a ring. It was starting to feel like a mistake telling him to go to work rather than stay home with her. She hated being the one around when Chris was ill, Eddie was always calmer than she was and he always knew what to do. He had been trained for medical emergencies whereas she wasn't.
And people listened to Eddie.
(Y/n) didn't know what it was about him, but people always listened and accepted whatever he said. When Eddie took Chris to the doctors or down to A&E, people listened and understood. No one called him dramatic like they had done to (Y/n) once- which Eddie had threatened the man for- and people took him seriously. (Y/n) was always seen as the overprotective mother whereas Eddie was the calm rational dad who clearly knew what he was doing.
Tilting her head back, (Y/n) leaned her head on her hand and her elbow on the back of the sofa, but when she looked down at Chris after a while, her eyes narrowed.
"Sweetheart, do you feel alright?" She moved her hand from his leg up to his arm and gently rubbed his shoulder.
He looked like he was watching tv but his eyes were trained on something just to the side of the tv and they were flickering to the right quite a lot but there was something in his eyes. He was seeing through something rather than looking at it and when (Y/n) pushed up and leaned over him, she realised he was drooling on the pillow; he only did that while he was sleeping.
"Sweetheart?"
His jaw started to tick and move but it took a while for him to actually say something. "Mummy… I, I want," His voice was quiet and his words were slow and slurred and he didn't bother to turn towards her either, he stayed motionless next to her.
"What do you want?" (Y/n) brushed her finger against his cheek but when she felt his muscles start to tense and his legs go rigid on her lap, fear struck her chest.
His legs lifted slightly from her lap as they straightened and tensed like rulers and his feet bent and pointed like a ballet dancer standing on their tiptoes. The tightening sensation travelled up his body and made his arms push down and his fingers started to curl and twist before his head snapped back against the pillow, jutting his chin out in the air.
He was having a seizure.
(Y/n) moved into action, carefully getting out from under Chris's legs so she could kneel down on the floor beside the sofa in front of him rather than behind him. Her hands moved to cup his face and she leaned over, making sure he was still breathing before her finger hooked beneath his lip and gently pulled it up so she could check his mouth. His jaw was clenched tight but she was sure he wasn't biting down on his tongue; that was a relief.
He hadn't had a seizure in over a year and the last one he had barely lasted a minute, if that. The last big seizure Chris suffered had happened at night, he just managed to cry out for them and when they got in his room he was hanging on the edge of the bed. Eddie had collapsed on the floor and grabbed him before he rolled off the bed and they laid him down on the rug. It had been so bad that he pierced his tongue with his teeth and made it bleed and swell up.
"You're alright sweetheart, I'm here, shhh, you're doing so good," (Y/n) peeled his glasses off his face and put them down on the table before she carded her fingers slowly through his curls so he could feel her and knew she was still there with him.
He was mainly trembling but (Y/n) could never tell if he was conscious or aware of anything or not and he couldn't really express it afterwards. His eyes were open and visible so she tried to look as calm as possible in case he could still process and see her and she always talked to him so if he could hear, he was soothed and calmed down.
When a minute came and went, (Y/n) started to chew on her nail and her hand started to tremble through his hair.
After another minute slowly trickled by, Chris seemed to stop, the trembling started to wear off and although his muscles stayed pointed and tense, he went still except for his eyes. His eyes moved left and right like a metronome or a pendulum, slowly swinging left to right.
"That's it sweetheart,"
(Y/n) pushed herself higher up on her knees so she could lean over him but the timing was wrong. She leaned over as if to kiss his temple but his head shot back again and made her freeze before his arms locked and his body jolted forward into her. His weight and the shock knocked (Y/n) off balance and her back burned when she fell back into the coffee table with a crash.
Chris's body started to spasm and he rolled off the sofa, landing awkwardly on top of (Y/n) and his arms became trapped between their bodies, bashing both of them like he was throwing punches or fighting her.
"Fuck! Chris, baby… Shit!" (Y/n) curled her left arm behind his neck and curved her right arm over his lower waist so she could push forward back ono her aching knees and roll him off of her and onto the floor.
She kept him laid on his side so he was facing her and carefully tried to tilt his head up to keep his airways clear and open.
His spasms became furious, his arms were stuck with his elbows out and his hands curled into awful contortions and his chest pushed out while his legs jerked back and forth, bashing into (Y/n)'s thighs every few seconds. (Y/n) could hear the way his head crashed into the wooden floor but she didn't want to elevate his head or put a pillow beneath his head when he was like this so she tried to keep her hand on the back of his head.
With a deep growl, (Y/n) hit her hand around on the sofa until her fingers curled around her phone so she could ring Eddie again.
No answer.
"Eddie please call me, Chris is having a seizure- a bad one- oww, fuck! I'm gonna have to call an ambulance I need you to call me!"
Out of desperation, (Y/n) tried to dial Bobby's number just on the off chance he had his phone on him and could answer her, but she got his voicemail too. She had never actually spoken to Bobby but Eddie gave her his number in case of an emergency. They had to be out on an important call if they couldn't answer their phones, (Y/n) knew they took them out on most of their calls unless told not to.
"Hello? I need an ambulance to five Brooke Avenue. My son's having a seizure it's lasted almost four minutes without stopping and he has a fever. He's eight."
"Okay, is your son breathing? What's his name?"
"Christopher Diaz, yeah he's breathing, b-but I think he's started to bite down on his tongue. There's blood now." (Y/n) put her phone on speaker and laid it on the sofa so she could crouch down a little more and try to look but she knew he had bit his tongue this time. Blood and spit were dribbling down his chin.
"Paramedics are being dispatched to you now. Has he had seizures before?"
"Yes, but not often, this is his first one in over a year."
What kind of a call was Eddie on? How long was he going to be before he could answer his phone? He needed to get back to the station and check his phone now. (Y/n) couldn't do this on her own.
Eddie, I need you!
Crossing his arms over his chest, Eddie leaned back against the wall and glanced his eyes around the waiting area. He prayed they weren't going to be here for long, he was never good at waiting for anything, especially like this where he couldn't even be of any help or use to anyone.
Waiting with (Y/n) while she was in labour for her to dilate had been awful, Eddie hated how long it took when he had no patience for hanging around like that. But at least then he had helped (Y/n) pace up and down the room and helped her sit in different positions and talked her ear off to keep her calm.
He couldn't think of any conversation to strike up with the team while they waited for Chimney to be examined and assessed. He wasn't in a life-threatening condition, not like when he had been stabbed or when he got the metal punctured through his skull. But he was part of the team and they had to wait, they had to know he was alright.
"Wanna go grab a drink?" Buck patted Eddie's arm to gain his attention and when he nodded, Buck rose to his feet. "Anyone want a coffee?"
Eddie uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the wall, stretching his arms above his head but he felt his heart lurch up into his throat when a sudden voice caught his attention.
"Stop! Move him he's seizing, he will choke! Why aren't you listening to me?"
Lightening shot up the base of Eddie's spine and he felt every single hair on his body stand up on end. He knew that voice, he would recognise that voice in his sleep. It was (Y/n). What the Hell was she doing in the hospital? She was at home with the kids when he left this morning-
Christopher!
He turned on his heels, pupils blown wide with panic and his body fueled on adrenaline as he scanned around the waiting area and the reception until he caught a passing glance of familiar hair and the tight fitting purple shirt (Y/n) had worn this morning which always drove him crazy.
"No, no no!" Eddie's feet moved faster than lightning and he skidded across the polished floor towards his family. He could hear (Y/n)'s quiet hiccups mixing in with Lola's tepid cries and he could see his daughter bashing and wriggling around in (Y/n)'s arm, her bright red face a mess with tears until her beady eyes clocked on him.
(Y/n) had Lola in her left arm, juggling to keep her steady on her hip and her phone was clenched in her right hand.
Her whole body jumped when Eddie stumbled up behind her, his hands finding their place on her hips as he glued himself to her back and simultaneously pulled (Y/n) back into his chest. He could feel the gasp that vibrated up through her chest and she stumbled back into him.
But when her head turned and her eyes locked on him, there were too many emotions floating around in her eyes for Eddie to focus on.
"Eddie!" (Y/n) took half a second to let relief consume her body and she relished in the kiss he pressed against her forehead before he looked down at the stretcher she had been following.
Christopher was laid on his back with his chest partially pushed up from how tense his muscles were which were making his limbs go straight as a board. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head so the whites of his eyes were the only thing visible. He looked beyond pale like he had been painted with make up for halloween and his skin was flushed with sweat but the blood that was dried along with spit around his lips made Eddie's eyes water.
"What happened?"
"Sir who-"
"I'm his father, what happened-" Eddie dug his fingertips into (Y/n)'s hips but when he did a double take down at Christopher, something raged inside him like a wildfire. "He's choking!"
Eddie let go of (Y/n) and moved closer to the stretcher until his knees bumped against the frame. When one of the paramedics dared to grab his arm to move him, venom sparked in his eyes that set alight. His jaw ground down and he flung his arm out, silently telling the man to get away from him before he lost his very controlled temper.
He heard (Y/n) mutter an 'I told you' to the paramedic and it broke his heart even more but he had to try and focus if they weren't going to listen or help.
"Alright son, come here," Eddie held the back of Chris's neck and his leg and carefully turned his tense body until he was laid on his right side, facing him. Then Eddie crouched down to be level with him and tilted his head back.
He was lucky he had done training for this sort of thing and when Christopher was little his seizures were more prominent so Eddie had taken a course. He had to know how to administer emergency anti-convulsant meds to Chris if his seizures didn't stop. He was shown how to safely open Chris's mouth if his jaw was locked and how to push a dissolvable pill under his tongue which would hopefully stop the meds. Eddie was also shown how to move his tongue if and when he started to choke during a seizure.
Chris was strong but due to his cerebal palsy, he didn't have great muscle control and that went in Eddie's favour whenever he had to do something like this. It was easy to wiggle Chris's jaw loose and open his mouth and with two fingers, Eddie hooked them around his tongue and pulled it back so he could breathe.
Chris took a large gulp of air which seemed to fuel him into trembling more but he wasn't flinging and spasming his limbs out like he had been earlier, he was locked tight now.
"There you go, buddy." Eddie rubbed his hand up and down Chris's back and checked his pulse while he was there just to be safe but he knew he had barely choked for more than twenty seconds. It wouldn't cause any lasting damage or further problems. But as he kept his hand on Chris's back, Eddie turned his head to the left and his eyes went wide when he looked at (Y/n).
"He chomped down on his tongue during his seizure when I called 911 which you should have known. It's swollen and therefore a choking hazard so if I tell you something, as his mother you should listen to me. Get him to a doctor, now."
A quiet 'damn' passed through Eddie's lips as a small bubble of pride burst in his chest as he pulled away from the stretcher. He curled his arms around her and pulled her back into his chest, eyeing the paramedics carefully when they started to wheel the stretcher again.
(Y/n) could see in the ambulance that he wasn't going to stay conscious for long. The seizure wore off when the medics arrived but Chris had stayed tense and locked in place and he had been only half conscious, he could barely talk at all. He bit his tongue deeply and it swelled up immediately so (Y/n) knew if he seized again he was liable to choke if he wasn't in the recovery position.
They never listened to her.
"I called, Eddie I kept calling and I- I tried Bobby but I couldn't get through… I didn't know what to do he kept seizing, five full minutes he stayed in one-"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby," When she turned round in his arms, Eddie pressed a hand to the back of her head and kept the other tight around her waist, reeling her in until she was as close as possible with Lola wedged between them.
His phone was still in the truck. He didn't have a ziplock bag to keep it in and they were at a flooded house this morning, he didn't want to drop it in the water, then when Chimney got hurt he forgot to grab it back from the truck.
He should have checked in on them.
Eddie kissed the side of (Y/n)'s head before he locked eyes with Bobby stood a few feet away. Great, the whole team had seen an episode of his life that he would prefer to keep behind closed doors. A silent conversation passed between them and Bobby nodded, letting him know he could go with his family, as far as they were concerned Eddie's shift was now over.
His family needed him.
***
"Babe…"
Eddie's tired eyes looked from (Y/n) towards the door to see what she was looking and nodding towards but he felt his heart drop to his stomach like a sinking stone when he looked through the open blinds. The team. They were stood in the corridor, trying to peer through the window to check how they were doing.
They were a family and Eddie was part of this family, they wouldn't leave him behind without checking on him.
"I'll go talk to them."
"You could let them in, you know. We don't bite," (Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair but she managed a smile that sent Eddie's heart pulsing.
He didn't tell the team about his family, something just told him to stay private. He was so used to keeping his private life away from his work life, it wasn't normal for him to introduce the two worlds together. But he knew Hen's wife and son, he knew Bobby and Athena and her children, he knew Buck's sister Maddie and they all talked to him and asked him out for drinks after work.
Maybe letting the two world collide wouldn't be such a bad thing. It would be new people for Chris to charm and a few more people for (Y/n) to be close to who understood what it was like.
He kissed her cheek and brushed his thumb across her jaw before he headed over to the door to brief them all before he allowed them in.
Eddie could feel the nerves and adrenaline coming to life in his stomach and he cradled the back of Lola's head, tucking her a little tighter into his chest as if to keep her calm when he knew she was fast asleep snugged into his shirt.
"Is everything okay, how are they doing?" Bobby had his arms crossed over his chest but his expression was the picture of calm and serene, as always. He was stood beside Buck who was sat in the chair across from Chris's room next to Hen whose face lit up when she noticed the bundle resting in Eddie's arms.
"It's all okay now… that was my son, Christopher. He has an infection and it brought on some bad seizures but he's on antibiotics now. This is my daughter, Lola, and through here is my fiancee (Y/n). They'd like to meet you all,"
Eddie opened the door and walked through, leading the three of them into the room behind him where Christopher was sat up and awake, looking a bit more like himself.
"Guys, this is Christopher. Chris, these are my friends who I work with down at the station, they've come to see you."
Eddie wasn't surprised that Buck was the first one to sit down next to Chris and introduce himself. They were similar in mental age, Buck had a childlike side to him that was playful and easy going, he would click with Chris like two friends at school together. And Bobby perched himself at the foot of the bed, smiling as he introduced himself to (Y/n).
When Hen started to coo and rub at Lola's cheek, Eddie started to relax and a smile took over his face.
This wouldn't be so bad after all.
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forsworned · 2 months
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Thank you for the Hesh content, omg I love every single post you make of him!
OMG YOURE WELCOME BABYGIRL IM JUST SO INLOVE WITH HIMSNFJNVFSJV HERES SOME MORE HESH CONTENT BECAUSE I NEED TO GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD <3333
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MUNCH ft! DRUNKHUSBAND!HESH
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𓈒༑•̩̩͙ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗌𝗒/𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗎𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗌𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗒
⤷ links: masterlist rules buy me a coffee!!
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You were such a lightweight. You knew it, he knew it, everyone knew it. So when you're both stumbling back home from the bar, drunkenly waving to the rest of the Ghosts goodbye as Hesh holds you up to keep your feet planted firmly on the floor it's just all giggles from here on out. He wasn't nearly worse off as you were, clambering into bed as you give him a sexy pose and wink at him in an attempt to seduce your own husband. Hesh can't help but cock an amused brow at you between chuckles as he's helping you out of your heels.
And suddenly you're getting all teary-eyed and pouty. "Baby?"
"Yes baby?" He responds, trying his damn hardest to peel off your stockings.
Your lip jutting out even more, trembling as your voice quivers. "I love you so much, baby."
His brows raise and scrunch up together, tenderly gazing at you and his voice softens. "I love you more, baby."
He lets out a shaky 'aww' as his own lip juts out, the corners of his lips curving upward in a coquettish half-smirk as he finally shucks off your tights and mounts. Dulcet, tipsy kisses smothering themselves all over your lips, cheeks, nose, eyes.--anywhere he can get to he's laying the most candied, buzzed smooches on the exposed parts of your skin and it's igniting a fire in the depths of your groins.
A diminutive whimper leaves your lips as you cord your lithe fingers into his soft, dark hair laden with pomade. Who the hell told him to do that (you literally did it for him before you two left for the bar). You didn't know, and you didn't care. The feeling of desire surges through your body in the form of goosebumps at his fervent touch. "Oh, David." You coo, squeezing your thighs together and he's not stopping his feverish minstrations.
In fact, your little sighs and squirming is fueling the inferno, tenting in his boxers. "What, baby?" He whispers, in between kisses as he starts to delicately imbibe your cushiony earlobe. That was what truly made you buck your hips, grasp tightening on his locks as you moan out and he's already kissing you down your body to your inner thighs.
Legs spread, pussy on full display as he stares at your dewy, succulent folds before he's full-on assaulting it with tongue. Saliva mixing with your arousal and your hands are flying to his shoulders, clawing his skin as you let out an enraptured whine. "Fuck...! Davi...David!"
"So fuckin' good. You taste so good, [name]." He murmured, lapping you up at a dangerously quick pace. It so fucking filthy the way he's spitting on your cunt and supping you up like your his last meal. Sturdy hands clasping onto your thighs to keep your thighs propagated open, so he can continue devouring your overflowing cunt. Juices trickle down his lips, dribbling over his chin as he hums against the engorged flesh of your furls.
Fluttering eyelids reveal the whites of your oculars as your chest pitches at the euphoria of his raffish movements. "Oh my...! David...David I'm gonna cum!"
So good. It felt so fucking good. For you, Hesh was the biggest munch and drunk Hesh was a horny Hesh, only wanting to please you with the most toe-curling, pussy convulsing orgasms. The pyre in your belly, beginning to peak and the weakened, dragged-out sobs were a surefire telltale sign that you were going to be cumming all over his mouth.
And this only bolsters him, long, swift licks to your puffy clit that causes you to arch your back, and the tingly, inviting feeling of your climax begins to unfold all over your body. It pleasantly dissipates like ocean waves crashing onto the shoreline, seafoam bubbles fizzling as they reach the sand.
But Hesh is still going. Overarousing the fuck out of your cunt, savoring your sweetness as you squirm at his hyperactive touch, pushing his head away until he releases the hold his lips have on your clit. He licks his mouth like he's just had the best meal of his life. And if you asked him if he had, he would surely beam at you with that brilliant, sexy smile of his and tell you, "Hell yeah."
But you're too fucking tired for that, heaving from the insane orgasm your husband just gave you. He bestows your pussy with a soothing kiss before resting his head on your quivering thigh.
"David?" You call out softly to him, caressing the back of his neck letting his hair prickle against your palm. But he's fast asleep, konked the absolute fuck out and you're not even coherent enough to wake him. "Love you."
"Love you, too." He murmurs half awake, slotting another sweet kiss to your skin and you can't help but giggle at him. He always wanted the last "I love you".
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pedrislefttoe · 3 months
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heyy could you write something for marc guiu (i’d be happy with ANYTHING) maybe something like them on vacation with their friends or at a party just all over each other
pedrislefttoe,
-`✮´- ᝰ.⋆˙ ✶ .ᐟ
marc guiu x reader.
tw: language, marc being a dick, marc's new blonde buzzcut (i know, im sobbing over it too).
-`✮´- ᝰ.⋆˙ ✶ .ᐟ
blondie,
you walked back to your hotel from the mall as you and your boyfriend, marc guiu had been vacationing with a few of his teammates and their girlfriends in monte-carlo, monaco. you held a few shopping bags in hand as you walked down the sidewalks, eventually arriving at your hotel.
once you had gotten out the elevator and on your floor, you walked towards your room door.
gently tapping the key card against the scanner before the door unlocked, you entered just to come face to face with marc and fermin bleaching marc's hair.
the door clicked shut behind you as you stood there in utter shock and disbelief.
"what the fuck is going on?!" you asked, gasping before placing down the bags, unbuckling your heels and running toward them. you almost tripped over in the process.
marc blinked at you as fermin chuckled, trying to contain his laughter.
you glared at marc's bleached buzzcut, tears in your eyes.
"oh my days." you blurted out.
fermin burst out in laughter, earning death stares from you and marc before speaking, "im guessing this is where i leave you two alone. so... goodbye." he shrugged.
"good luck mate," fermin said to marc before heading towards the door and exiting.
"marc, you blonde bastard! why would you do this to your hair?!" you yell at him.
"calm down, mi amor." he says to you, standing up from his seat before opening his arms for you.
reluctantly, you accepted his peace offering, burying yourself in his arms.
"you look like eminem," you giggle into his neck which made him instantly smile.
marc kisses your forehead after pulling away from your hug, "you cant tell me my hair isnt cute though."
you shake your head, smiling before planting your soft lips on his.
-`✮´- ᝰ.⋆˙ ✶ .ᐟ
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