#The forgetting to eat thing is kind of annoying

[stonedtaemin]

all my life i've dreamed of you, my love

❕creampie, jealousy sex, multiple orgasms, first time, pussy eating, first kiss | ao3 | wc 4.6k

mc goes on a date with another guy, caleb can't take this shit anymore *requested ♡

23 missed calls and 30 unread messages. all from caleb. she didn’t even know where to begin, what she would even say. what was his deal? why did he even care? it’s not like she wasn’t being safe. she had every right to do whatever she wanted. she was grown up, her own woman. 

she turned off her phone, tossing it onto the bed. she couldn’t deal with caleb’s incessant whining right now. she thought maybe since reuniting he would be less annoying and clingy. but he’s been nothing but that. not to mention she had recently felt some… stirring in her heart. the scary kind. she couldn’t shake this feeling off, like it was more than just her affection for her old childhood friend. it was ridiculous. to be honest, she had only went out with zayne to see if she could return his obvious affection for her. it was a bust in the end. all she could think about was idiot caleb. she was sick of it.

fleeting, nothing more.

a quick shudder washed over her, taking a deep breath. she couldn’t— wouldn’t— think about that right now. best to just forget such a stupid thing.

she went to the end of her bed, looking at herself in the mirror. she sighed deeply, undoing her hair. her hands went down to her earlobes, earrings dangling. she took them out and set them on her jewelry dish. she was about to take her dress off until she heard a loud banging on her door. she jumped out of her skin, palm planted over her chest.

she slowly crept towards the door, grabbing her gun off the dresser. she pulled it up, cocked and ready to shoot.

she was close to the door when the banging happened again, another startle coming from her. she gulped, finger flexed onto the trigger. she looked into the peephole slowly, squinting with perplexity.

fuck.

she sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. then a groan of pure anger.

"what the fuck?" she opened the door, only to be greeted by a drenched caleb. it had begun to storm outside and he had taken a direct hit from it. his hair had water droplets that were crashing around him, purple iris' swirling with a darkness.

he was breathing heavy, pushing her inside so he could get into a dry space. she grunted, stumbling back. the door auto locked behind them, caleb pressing her further into the apartment.

“no, i should be the one asking you that. why have you been ignoring me?”

“what are you doing here?” she dodged the question.

she backed up, placing her hunter’s gun onto the side table of the entryway. her hands went to her hips, deadpanning at him. he looked so lonely like this.

“answer me.”

she sighed deeply.

“i haven’t been ignoring you. you just tend to be overbearing. per fucking usual.”

he scoffed, closing the space between them, only for her to back up again, distance returning. he stared down at her feet as she walked backwards, feet stumbling in the process. he let out a dark chuckle.

“overbearing? i told you to not go out with that loser.”

“that loser has a name, caleb. zayne has always been close to me, so what’s the harm in going on a date?” her finger went to point at his chest, digit digging into his peck harshly. he didn’t even flinch. he was motionless.

“because i told you not to, that’s why. that’s the fucking problem.” he snarled.

“oh, so now that you’ve walked back into my life all high and mighty mr. farspace fleet colonel you think you can just bark me around like one of your subordinates? well tough shit. things have changed. i’ve changed.”

his eyes flickered an unreadable emotion, one she didn’t think she wanted to know.

“he doesn’t get you. not like i do. nobody does.” he avoided her previous words, like he hadn’t even heard them.

“what does that even mean? like what are you even getting from saying that?”

his hand reached out to grab hers, but she turned away to walk the opposite direction. he yanked her with a force like none other, his grip tightening around her wrist. he pulled her onto his chest, their faces impossibly close.

“don’t be dense, sweetheart.”

ouch.

she scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. she took her hand up to slap him, but his evol stopped her dead in the air. he glanced between her hand and her eyes, a small scowl forming on his lips.

“let— me— go!” she growled, struggling against his hold.

“stop playing these games. i’m tired of them.” he sighed, letting her hand drop down to her side. his grip on her wrist loosened but it didn’t let go.

“i don’t even— ugh— know what you’re talking about!”

“do i have to spell it out for you? i don’t want you going on dates with other people.” his voice started to sound desperate, like he was trying to prevent himself from bleeding out to death. maybe he was.

her struggling paused, her eyebrows softening, then bending in confusion. she shook her head slightly.

“caleb, i—��

“i don’t want to see you with other people. you’ve been avoiding me lately and i feel like you’re doing this on purpose. why are you driving me crazy?”

“you’re so full of yourself!”

“why don’t you ask me to go places with you? have a nice dinner, walk around linkon, buy you expensive things. why? am i not enough?”

her eyes widened and snapped to his. he was dead serious.

“because… because— i don’t know. that’s weird. you wouldn’t even see me like that. jesus, just drop it, okay?”

he pulled her closer.

“why should i?”

“because this is my life and it’s my choice!” she yelled, breath heavy.

the silence was sickening, the only sound was the rain and thunder around them. a water drop from his brow splashed onto her face, falling down her cheek. his hand reached up to cup her face, thumb tracing her jaw.

“if you’re going to stand there like an idiot then go ahead and see yourself ou—“ his lips smashed onto hers with a jolting force.

his lips moved against hers, but she couldn’t even respond. couldn’t even register what was happening. like she was in a dream but with sleep paralysis. she wanted to move but she didn’t know how.

her arms moved first, wrapping around his slick neck, lips finally moving with his. their teeth clashed for a second, trying to find a steady rhythm. his tongue swiped across her bottom lip as an invitation, her mouth opening for him. he groaned against her lips as his tongue met hers, the sweet taste of her dancing on his buds.

one hand gripped her cheek for dear life and the other went to claw at her hip, fingers dangerously close to her ass. he pulled her closer, her chest pressing hard onto his.

she moaned at his teeth biting her bottom lip and tugging, mouths finally separating to breathe. she didn’t want to open her eyes and look at him, scared and nervous. this was all she had ever wanted. still, she was terrified.

“look at me.” he whispered, jerking her lightly, as if to wake her up from her dream.

her eyelids peeled open slowly, first finding his swollen lips covered in spit. then trailed up to his nose. then those eyes— god, those eyes. she thought she would drown in them.

“tell me you want this. that i’m not crazy, please, pips…” he whined.

she blinked several times before swallowing her pride. she couldn’t even lie to him right now. she was drunk off his kiss.

“i need you so fucking bad caleb.” she admitted, chest rising and falling. her hands pet the back of his neck, stroking softly.

he choked out a needy sob, lips finding hers once more.

“shit, i can’t even fucking think straight right now.” he murmured against her as she made out with him.

“then don’t.” she whispered back, resuming their kiss.

he moaned as she pulled him impossibly closer. his hands went down to her thighs, lifting her up and carrying her as they kissed each other like their lives depended on it. in a way, their lives did depend on it.

their lips separated for another brief period so that he could focus on walking them into her room. she lifted her dress off of her in one swoop, tossing it to the ground carelessly. she cupped his cheek and dragged his mouth to hers once more, sucking onto his tongue deliciously.

he walked them over to the edge of her bed, finishing their kiss before plopping her down. she stared up at him with glossy eyes and puffy lips. she bit her bottom lip as he took his jacket and then his shirt off, chest broad and fit. it wasn’t even her first time seeing him shirtless. yet it made her impossibly horny. she wanted nothing more than to ride on him while palming his abs.

“pips…” his eyes drank in her figure, bra straps loosely hanging off of her shoulders, tits begging to be released from their hold. not to mention her underwear, small and thin with barely and coverage. her folds basically were popping around the sides, obvious that her thongs were too small for her. he didn’t know where to begin.

she moved forward, hands undoing his belt sloppily. she unbuttoned and unzipped him, pulling both his pants and underwear down in one go.

she couldn’t help but lightly gasp at just how huge he was. there in front of her was his veiny, monster cock. it stood red and proud, needing to be taken care of.

“holy shit.” is all she managed to blurt out.

he carressed her cheek softly, letting her take him in. he was flustered beyond words, but tried to keep his confidence high. he didn't even know how they ended up like this, him naked and hard in front of her. he wasn't complaining. just confused.

"lay on your back." his words came out like honey.

she laid back, pushing up further onto the bed so he could crawl towards her. she propped her knees up, opening herself up to him. it was quite the sight to behold. as he drew closer she hooked her legs over his meaty shoulders, feet rubbing sensually onto his back.

“shit, baby. wanna touch you so bad. can i touch you?” he begged, hands gripping onto the plush of her thighs tightly.

her breathe hitched at his pet name, never having called her baby before. she nodded fast, her stomach doing flips. she needed him like she needed air right now.

“please, caleb. need you.” she whined, hips thrusting into nothing.

he chuckled softly, hands trailing down to her crotch. his swiped his index finger softly in between her folds, slick sopping around her entrance and completely wrecking the fabric of her underwear.

she hissed at the contact, biting her lip. she would give anything for him to hurry up and finger her.

“so wet for me. all for me.”

“yes,” she breathed out, “all for you caleb. please, i can’t—“

he ripped her underwear to the side, two fingers dipping inside of her.

“fuck!” she yelped, hips swiveling to his slow push.

his fingers hooked inside of her, curling and caressing her insides so deliciously. she could see stars.

he watched her as she furrowed her brows in pleasure, mouth slightly agape. she was going stupid on his fingers. just her expression alone could make him cum.

“you like that? like it when i play with your pretty little cunt, hm? tell me, sweetheart.” he was toying with her.

she nodded feverishly, hands gripping onto her sheets with white knuckles.

“yes, yes, yes, i fucki-ing love it, baby. please keep going oh god.” she blushed with a deep crimson.

his thumb went to play with her clit, rubbing in slow, deadly circular motions. he watched her fall apart, hips stuttering with stimulation.

“yes, just like that sweetheart. god, you look so gorgeous. you’re like a dream. been thinking about having you like this for so long.”

she sobbed, moans coming out in long whines. her stomach muscles were straining and sweat beaded around her skin. she was grinding onto his hand with a animal-like ferocity.

“i’m gonna cum if you k-keep doing that, ah shit!” she cried out. her fingers gripped into his hair, pulling harshly.

his head dove down in between her legs, tongue replacing his thumb and flicking onto her. she screamed, a few hairs getting ripped out from his scalp. he groaned, vibrating against her in the most sinful way.

“cum in my mouth.” he commanded, lapping up all over her.

she was so loud, she might wake her neighbors up. she melted under his tongue and fingers, each sensation drawing her orgasm to the surface.

“m’cumming, shit, yes, yes, yes, don’t st-stop caleb, oh fuck!” she rolled her hips in circles as her orgasm slammed into her.

he removed his fingers to replace it with his tongue, drinking her slick up as she came onto his mouth. she stared down at his face, barely even seeing him due to how buried he was onto her pussy. he moaned and made disgusting eating noises against her, tongue curling and then flattening against her.

with one final drag from the bottom to the top of her folds, he came back up, eyes darkened with lust. his lips kissed up the sides of her inner thigh, sucking dark hickeys into her skin. she moaned with each bite and pull.

“caleb…”

he landed a final kiss before lifting himself up onto his knees between her legs. he moved her legs off of his shoulders so he could pull her underwear off completely. he dragged it off slowly and sensually, kissing her ankle. when they finally came off he stuffed her soaking thong to his nose, inhaling deeply and letting out the guttural moan. his eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouthing at the fabric.

she thought she might die from it all.

“fuck, princess. smells so fucking good.” his dick was harder than it had ever been.

“y-you…” she stuttered, not even knowing how to react properly. she was jaded by her life-changing orgasm and the worlds hottest man sniffing her panties. it was all too much.

he finally tossed them aside, eyes piercing down onto hers.

“take your bra off.”

she gulped, propping up onto her elbows. she unclasped the hook to her garment with deft fingers. she pulled it off slowly, breasts spilling out. the cold air hit her bare skin, nipples rock hard. she tossed the article aside, laying back down.

caleb’s hand went up to touch her, not knowing which breast to start with. his fingers pinched her nipple, rolling it in between the pads of his fingertips. she hissed, biting her lip harshly.

“so beautiful. been wanting to see you like this. knew you would be so pretty, pip-squeak. just knew it.”

she whined with ecstasy, completely under the mercy of his addicting touch.

“could say the same about you.” she murmured, back arching into his touch as he groped and massaged her breast.

“yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow, biceps flexing with how hard he was working his hand onto her tits.

“mhmm. so big and strong, caleb. ever since seeing you it’s all i could think about. just want you to manhandle me.” she tried to sound as sexy as she could, but she was incredibly embarrassed, cheeks betraying her confident words.

he chuckled, lips curling into a small smirk.

“oh yeah? tell me more.” his other hand went down to his cock, wrapping around it and stroking slowly.

“yeah, um, and i would come home. touch myself to you, thinking about how fit you are. how you would fuck me so well. just kept imagining how you would feel inside me.” she stuttered, watching in awe as he stroked himself lazily in front of her. his hand slapped her tit hard, then massaged it. she yelped out.

“fuck, you’re dirty. you’ve got quite the mouth on you, pips.”

she was crimson all over her face, lips pouting.

“cock is so big, caleb. how is it so big?” she whined, hips rising as if to beg him to insert it.

he whimpered, squeezing himself hard. he wiggled it hard, is if to shake it awake from this dream. he lined it up with her entrance, slapping the tip onto her wet folds. it smacked three to four times, each one sending her into oblivion. she cried, bucking into his touch.

“wanna see if it’ll fit?”

“fuck… yes, please. please stuff it inside me.” she begged like a child, voice nasally.

“tell me how bad you want it.”

she groaned in annoyance, in disbelief that he can be such a tease. he was even a little shit in bed too. some things never changed. she rolled her eyes at the cocky smile that was plastered onto his face. that beautiful god damn face.

“i want you to fill me up with your huge fucking cock, caleb. i need you to fuck me now. like yesterday, actually.”

he barked out a laugh.

“such a needy little slut.”

she couldn’t believe her ears, heat pooling all over her. she could die from his words. she was pretty sure she was already dead.

“caleb, i swear to god if you don’t—“

all of the sudden he slammed himself into her, unforgiving and tearing through her like a knife. he was only halfway inside because of how tight she was, not used to such a huge object inside of her. her dildo was only half the size of him. she screamed out, hands scrambling to purchase anything to hold onto. they settled for his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“just a little m-more, princess. open up. so damn tight— shit.”

she grunted, eyes piercing at him.

"i'm trying! you're just too fucking big caleb, jesus christ." she tried to be as mad as she could but the moan that stumbled out of her mouth failed her as he wiggled deeper inside of her.

his breath fanned over her face, jaw clenched as he finally pushed all of his length inside of her. she was being absolutely split in half, legs trembling with the weight of him between her.

"oh shit. shit, shit, shit!" she cried out, feeling his hips start to move slowly but surely.

he huffed out a laugh, hand gripping onto her hip as he steadied himself. his veins that trailed down his v-line bulged with each thrust, pumping all the blood to his thick cock.

"holy fuck. squeezing the shit out of me, baby. gonna fuck you so good this pussy's gonna remember the shape of me." he gutted out, hips starting to slam into her harder with each word.

her tits bounced up and down with each thrust, stomach jiggling softly. she swore she could feel him in her fucking guts.

"fuck yes, please, caleb, harder please!"

he groaned out in pure primal desire, lips attaching onto her neck and clamping down with his teeth. he bit her so hard it drew blood, teeth leaving an imprint onto her supple skin. his hips were moving faster with each time his cock drew in and out, the smacking of their skin growing louder than the thunder outside. the lights flickered as lightning struck outside next to her window, power almost giving out.

"feels. so. good. jesus, baby. look at you." his hand gripped her chin hard, yanking it to the side so she could watch herself getting rammed in her full length mirror. she thanked her lucky stars that she put that mirror there. she cried out in bliss, watching as caleb stared into her soul through the reflection. his thumb crept up to her mouth, letting her suck and bite down on it.

"look how fucking sexy you look, taking my dick so well." he hummed, whines following after.

she let out high-pitched moans in rhythm with each time his cock slammed into her cervix, watching herself get absolutely dominated by him. she could watch it all day. it made her clench around him, eliciting a long string of whimpers from him. he sounded boyish, surrendering completely to the feeling of her walls surrounding him.

his thumb dragged down slowly out of her mouth, salvia trailing down her chin. her eyes went back to look at him in front of her, batting her eyelashes in seduction. he leaned down to kiss her slowly, mouthing onto her bottom lip. he licked up the saliva that drooled down her chin, hand wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head.

"tell me you love this dick."

"i love your dick so much, caleb. can't fucking stand it." she responded quicker than the lightning that struck outside. the light illuminated her, curves accentuated.

"yeah? love it so much you could take it forever?"

she nodded her head and hummed out in agreement, mouth agape with the most obnoxious sounds coming out.

"love you so fucking much." she whined out, not even realizing the weight of her words that she had just admitted to him.

sure, she had said she loved him before. but it was never under this context. his hips faltered, dick twitching inside of her. he choked slightly, hands tightening their grip around her restrained wrists.

"say it again."

"i love you, i love you, i love you— shit!" she let herself go, climax about to hit her like a ton of bricks.

"love you too, sweet girl."

and with that she was cumming onto him like there was no tomorrow, crying out in utter bliss. he watched her as she fell apart, letting go of her hands so she could grip his chest, fingers pressing hard into his skin. her legs tightened around his waist, hips circling with her waves.

"cu-mming so— fucking— hard, oh god, caleb!" she was tearing up, eyes glistening with an indescribable pleasure.

he leaned forward to kiss her crashing tears, cupping her cheek softly.

"pretty girl. my sweet baby." he cooed, hips slowing to a gentler pace.

"caleb, please cum inside of me, please. wanna feel you inside." she sobbed.

he let out a sob, head dropping with defeat. he couldn't believe this predicament. he didn't even think he was awake right now.

"shit, are you sure? you have to tell me now or it's gonna be— ugh— too fucking late, sweetheart."

her gaze met with his, pulling him into a soft kiss.

"just cum inside of me, please. don't make me ask twice, baby." she mouth against his lips, making out with him passionately.

he groaned against her mouth, hips smacking against her hard as he rutted sloppily inside her.

"c-cumming. i'm cumming, baby." he grunted against her, their lips hovering over eachother. she breathed in his moans as his release filled her up in ways she didn't think was possible.

she squeezed down on him, milking him to death. he whimpered with each ounce of cum spilling into her, kissing down her jawline.

their chests were slick on top of each other, her breasts squished against his pecks. her fingers traced down his back as he thrusted through his orgasm, back muscles pulsing under her touch. with two final thrusts, he slowed, pulling away to look at her.

"shit." he muttered, hands feeling around her everywhere. he could feel his seed trying to push past his cock where he was plugging her up.

"yeah." she hummed back, a small smile curling at the corner of her lips.

he gripped her face and wiggled it around, biting his lip.

"good girl." he approved, his cock twitching lifelessly in her pussy.

her cheeks flushed with her arousal, chest rising and falling with her heavy breathing. she could stay like this forever. he let out a small laugh, a sideways cocky smile forming onto his face. he slowly pulled out of her, cum spilling out soon after. he winced as his cock fell out of her, missing her already. she cried softly, holding onto his chest for dear life. she had never felt so empty in her life before.

"caleb..."

he ignored her, dipping his head down to her folds to lick a thick stripe onto her. she yelped out, hand smacking over her mouth in shock. he lapped up their juices, tongue swirling around inside of her.

"holy shit, caleb, i can't—" she was absolutely taken aback from his brazenness. he was so disgusting in the best possible way.

"think you can cum again for me, just one more time?" he begged against her pussy.

"shit, yes, please!" she couldn't have agreed any faster.

never in her life had she came more than once, now here she was, working up to her third orgasm of the night. she just knew caleb would be fucking good at this. dreamt about this shit everytime she was alone, touching herself.

"taste— mhmph— so good, it's addicting. love eating you out, like a fucking dream come true." he made out with her folds, lewd sounds of his lips squelching against her wetness. she couldn't help but cry aloud, thinking she would lose her voice for sure come morning.

"caleb, why are you— ugh, fuck, yes!— so good at this?" she didn't even think she wanted to know the answer to that.

he smiled against her, chuckles sending shockwaves through her. he began to flick his tongue devilishly fast, her orgasm already coming over her. her hands threaded into his soft hair, nails digging deep into his scalp. she fucked herself into his mouth, legs shaking from the overstimulation.

"oh god, caleb!" she came undone onto his tongue, feeling every ounce of goodness that was in her. he lapped at her incredibly well, humming along with her climax.

he kissed her gently against her cunt, fingers squeezing onto the plush of her thigh.

"wanna kiss you." she sighed, pulling him up from her crotch.

he complied, crawling back up to his love.

they kissed softly and slowly, the taste of them exchanging between their tongues. he caressed her cheek, her hands petting through his hair. when they pulled apart, he rested his head onto her chest, collapsing beside her. he was absolutely fucked out.

she played with his hair while he traced nonsense onto the valley of her chest. the rain was still pouring like crazy, wind slamming it into her window. she glanced outside, watching as it slanted sideways. it must have been a monsoon.

"hey." he muttered.

she kept her gaze on the weather.

"hmm?"

"don't go out with other guys. don't like it."

she turned back to look at him, tugging his hair hard.

"you just made me cum three times, caleb. come on."

he huffed a laugh out, rolling his eyes.

"yeah. still."

she leaned down to plant a kiss to the top of his head.

"i want this. i want you." she whispered.

his heart skipped a beat, fingers pressing firmly into her skin. he watched as it left a red imprint, then slowly faded back to normal. he hooked his hand around the handle of her hip, pulling her tightly into his grip.

"mhmm. i've wanted you since the moment i laid eyes on you."

she hid her surprise, not sure if she really should have been. she let them sit in silence again, enjoying their presence together. it was comfortable and warm.

"don't leave me again. ever." it was a command.

he looked up at her with a distant sadness in his eyes. he promised himself he would never put her through that pain again. he used his free hand to brush her fringe aside and away from her forehead.

"never."

[thetreetopinn]

My ADD Medication Journey - Jan 1, 2024

1/1/2024 – Monday

Happy new year!

Slept pretty poorly, spent a lot of the time lying awake trying to sleep

Managed to lose consciousness a few times, but not long enough to be a proper sleep

Ended up staying in bed later to compensate

Morning dose taken at about 10 am

Appetite was suppressed and forgot to eat lunch

Tremors intensified for a short while, then calmed down again

Went to the grocery store to pick up some staples I ran out of

Picked up a very late lunch, early dinner while I was out

Will continue to stick with the one dose in the morning, though I may try 2 doses again

While it still affects my sleep, it feels like I might be overcoming the insomnia

Hard to say, will continue trying as opportunities present

[alinathinkstoomuch]

TOO PRETTY TO BE STRESSED

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader summary: aaron swears he's not the clingy type...until you show up, and suddenly it's a full blown PDA parade in the bullpen, based on this request. warnings | an: fluff, they're so in love it makes me sick, lots of touching, hotch soothing r's stress with his credit card, i am once again spreading the suggar!daddy!hotch agenda, the team being annoying, hotch enabling r's spending habits. word count: 2.1k

✧ masterlist

Walking through the doors of the FBI never quite feels normal. You’d think being married to the man who runs one of its top units would earn you a little immunity from the nerves, but nope. There are still plenty of tight-lipped smiles from men who clearly think you don’t belong (to be fair, you technically don’t), and those awkward elevator rides where you end up clarifying, again, that you’re just here to drop off lunch for the most handsome agent in the building. Not that you say that part out loud. 

It doesn’t happen often, hardly ever, really. Aaron’s not the kind of man who forgets things, especially not lunch. Maybe twice every four months, if that. And even then, he never asks for you to bring it. He usually brushes off your offers with a quick ‘I’ll grab something from the cafeteria’ which, of course, actually means ‘I won’t eat until dinner.’ 

And that just won’t suffice. Especially not when he’s been filling out his shirt so nicely, lately.

So there you were, pretty shoes dragging against the dull bureau floor, lunch in one hand, cookies and your purse dangling from the other, wrist definitely starting to ache. You weren’t exactly sneaking into the bullpen, but you weren’t strutting either. Just stuck in that awkward middle space reserved for people who technically shouldn’t be there, but have the authority to show up anyway, because boss man said so.

“There she is! Hotchner’s better half,” Emily called out, spinning her chair around with a grin.

You offered a sheepish wave, trying not to drop anything. “I come bearing gifts…and mild wrist pain.”

“Oh! Are those the butterscotch ones?” Penelope squealed, jumping up from where she’d been perched on Spencer’s desk.

“Yes, new recipe,” you said, carefully setting your things down on JJ’s desk as she kindly unhooked your overloaded purse. “I swapped out the dark brown sugar for light, added a little sea salt on top, and I may have used browned butter this time. I was feeling ambitious.”

“You browned the butter?” Penelope gasped. “You absolute kitchen goddess!”

Spencer leaned in for a closer look as you popped the lid off the container. “That actually changes the flavor quite a bit. The Maillard reaction from browning—”

“Yes, yes, science, great,” Emily cut in. “Can we eat them now, or is there a presentation we have to sit through first?”

You laughed, nudging the tin closer to everyone. “No presentations. Just cookies. Though if anyone gives them a rating out of ten that’s higher than a nine, I won’t complain.”

Morgan was the first to grab one, swiftly using it as a pointer to gesture towards Aaron, who was pushing back his chair. “Oh look, here he comes.”

You glanced up just in time to catch it—that little motion he always did, fingers brushing his tie flat against his chest as he stood. A completely innocent gesture. Totally routine. And somehow still enough to make your mouth water.

“You know,” Morgan added, mid-chew, “that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen him leave his office. Last time he moved like that, we had an active shooter in the building.”

“Alright, don’t scare her,” Rossi scolded, swatting Morgan’s bicep with a file. “She already doesn't like coming here as it is.”

“Now, that’s not true, Dave,” you corrected, grabbing Aaron’s lunch. “I love seeing you all. I just prefer doing it without all the security nuisance, badges, metal detectors and guns.”

Morgan nudged your elbow, eyes still on Aaron as he made his way over. “For a guy who claims he’s not clingy, he’s practically tripping over himself right now.”

“Oh, he’s definitely clingy,” you grinned, just as Aaron reached you, wasting zero time before leaning in and placing a swift kiss to your lips, murmuring a dreamy ‘Hi you’ before pulling away.

“Come on.” Morgan shook his head, reaching for his second cookie. “This is the same guy who made us sit through a mandatory refresher on workplace boundaries, and now look at him, breaking every single one.”

“Let them be in love,” JJ said sweetly, sipping her coffee like this was all perfectly normal.

You looked up at Aaron, eyebrows raised, trying to coax some kind of reaction to all the teasing. But he didn’t even glance at the others, just kept his eyes on you as he took the lunch bag from your hands, his fingers brushing along your wrist with just enough pressure to say thank you, I missed you, without saying anything at all.

“You didn’t have to come all this way, honey.”

“I know, but I overbaked and figured I was due for my monthly dose of shocking the system.” You glanced around the bullpen, cringing a little at the endless clacking of keyboards and constant ringing of phones. It was all starting to give you at least four different headaches. “Feels like there’s less oxygen in here somehow.”

“That’s because no one is allowed to breathe until all the paperwork is done,” Emily interjected dryly. 

“Is that true, Aaron?” you asked, reaching up to fuss with his tie. “Are you working your team too hard?”

“They live to complain.”

A chorus of groans and mock-offended noises rose up around you, just as Aaron’s hand slipped to the small of your back, steering you gently towards his office.

“Blinds stay open, you two,” Morgan called after you, pointing two fingers from his eyes to yours. “We’re watching!”

“Just keep walking,” Aaron murmured into your hair, voice quiet and beguiled, giving your hip a subtle squeeze as he guided you up the stairs.

You bit back a grin, feeling far too smug—and frankly, far too giddy—for someone standing in a federal building. Inside his office, he quietly closed the door behind you and you made yourself at home by sliding into one of the chairs across from his desk. 

“Think Morgan might have a point, you are getting a little reckless with the PDA. You’re going soft.”

He moved to his chair, smoothing his tie against his chest as he sat. “I’ve always been soft with you.”

That answer knocked the wind out of you in the quietest way. You blinked once, then shook your head. “Wow. Okay. That’s not even fair.”

He just looked amused, unpacking the lunch bag while sneaking glances at you like he couldn’t help himself. “You know they’ll be talking about this all afternoon.”

You waved him off and kicked his foot gently under the desk, because footsies, like true love, didn’t have an expiration date. “Let them. Let them talk about how you have a gorgeous, brilliant, amazing wife who is kind enough to hand-deliver your lunch.”

“They already know.”

“Good answer.” You nodded, satisfied, and handed him a few tissues just as he took the first bite of his sandwich. “Now, how's your day been? And don’t say ‘fine’, or I’ll start pulling out my therapist's voice and asking about your coping mechanisms.”

He chewed, giving you a dour look over the top of the sandwich like he was already reconsidering speaking at all.

“Busy. Two consults, one profile draft, and I’ve had to remind Morgan three times to finish his report.”

“So… business as usual.”

“Basically.”

He took another bite, and you used the pause to admire him. How pretty he looked. He was getting subtly more rugged with time, never quite managing the clean-shaven look, not for lack of trying, but that had always been fine by you. You loved him exactly as he was.

Your eyes wandered over his desk, taking in the meticulously organised scene in front of you. Everything was in its place, except for a single pen and one loose file slightly out of line, a tiny disruption in an otherwise perfect system. It made you smile.

He wiped his mouth, and in that moment, his wedding band caught the thin stream of light this moody building begrudgingly allowed in. As if the universe was saying, yes, look—he’s yours.

And you thanked her silently for it. Because he was.

“Want to ditch the rest of the day, fake a headache, and run away with me to somewhere that doesn’t require badge access?” you proposed, straightening the photo of you on his desk. 

He tilted his head. “Tempting.”

“You’d never actually do it, though.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I’ll think about it the whole time I’m here.”

Your smile pulled a little wider. “That’s enough for me. That—and as long as I’ll have you home in time for dinner,” you said, though it came out as more of a question. Maybe even a tiny, minuscule threat. 

“Don’t worry, I will,” he assured you kindly. “I know your parents are coming over tonight. I wouldn’t dream of making you face that alone. I’m guessing that’s what’s been bothering you, hence the industrial-sized cookie batch?”

You sighed, slumping back into the chair. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to me.”

“You know they’re hard work. And I can only fake-smile and nod my way through so many stories about people I don’t remember and opinions I didn’t ask for.”

Aaron set his sandwich aside, abandoning it on the tissue you had passed him earlier. He used another to wipe his hands, then stood, taking two steps to get to you. 

Before you could say anything, his hands were on either side of your chair, gently turning it to face him. He crouched down, and you instinctively parted your legs so he could slot in between them. 

“Hey,” he urged softly. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through it together, and if it gets to be too much, I’m excellent at coming up with polite excuses to get them out of the house.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart.”

And just in case his words were not confirmation enough, his hands came to cradle your face, thumbs circling your skin before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go to that bookstore you like,” he said next, already reaching into his pocket. “Grab your favorite coffee, roam around for a while, and try not to stress until they text you that they’re on their way, okay?”

He pulled out his wallet and fished out his card. “You’re too pretty to be stressing in this skirt.”

You raised a brow, lifting one leg and watching the flowy fabric settle back down over your knee. “It’s cute right?”

“Very.” He nodded, dead serious. “Go buy yourself another one.” He extended the card towards you like it was non-negotiable.

You laughed, giving his hand a light swat. “I’m not taking your card like some 1950s housewife.”

“You’re not. You’re my very independent, endlessly capable wife who I happen to love spoiling any chance I get. Now, please, take it. Call it payment for lunch…and for making you come all the way here, knowing full well how much you’d rather avoid this place.”

You pouted, eyes dancing between the card and his face. “Fine,” you relented, plucking the card from his hand. “But I’m only getting one book. Two max. The bookshelf is about to collapse.”

“Buy as many as you want.” He reached down, helping you to your feet with a gentle tug. “I’ll build you a new bookshelf.”

“You?”

“Yes, me.” 

“You’ll build me a new bookshelf?”

He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “With actual tools.”

“Okay, now I have to see that.”

He pulled back, straightening your cardigan, fussing without ever making it feel like fussing. “Then you better pick up a lot of books.” 

You rolled your eyes, tucking the card away into your pocket. “This is enabling.”

“This is love,” he corrected, stealing a quick kiss before walking you to the door. “Text me when you get there. And if you see a ridiculous romance novel with a cheesy title, get it. I want to hear the plot.”

You grinned, poking his chest. “You just want to make fun of me.” 

“No, I just like knowing what’s taking up space in that beautiful head of yours.” 

“It’s mostly just you.”

He looked like he was trying not to smile too hard at that, so you saved him the trouble by leaning up and giving him one last kiss, ignoring all the hollering behind you from Morgan. 

“I love you,” he promised, smoothing a hand down your arm. “Now, go before I change my mind and fake a headache just to come with you.”

tags - @fandomscombine @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue @kiwriteswords @anvdala @supersanelyromantic @yourallaround-simp @percysley @wowitsafemale @cinnamoncunt @mggslover @khxna @keiminds

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[hanniebaeee]

Something Like Love

Han Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, suggestive MDNI

Genre: friends/friends with benefits to lovers, fluff

Summary: You've been in love with Minho for so long, but he's already in a relationship - a really toxic one. And your best friend Jisung, who is also like your best friend with benefits, is your only source of comfort. And it looks like there's more cooking here than just benefits.

Your favorite fuzzy blanket did absolutely nothing to cushion the blow of watching Hana shove her tongue down Minho's throat in her Instagram story. You’ve watched it three times now (you didn’t even know why but you liked torturing yourself). 

Why does he stay with her? She was bossy and such a narcissist! Jisung noticed the pout on your face and sighed, plopping down beside you.

“Put that away,” He said softly, wrestling the phone off your hand and tossing it aside. 

You looked at him and saw him giving you that look. The one that made you wonder why you even want Minho in the first place.

You huffed, throwing your head back dramatically.

“She was literally eating Minho’s face like it was her last meal. And he looked so miserable, Ji. Miserable!”

Jisung raised an eyebrow as he popped open the wine bottle.

“Maybe he likes being miserable. Some people are into that. Like you and this whole ‘pining after your taken best friend’ thing.” Jisung teased, and you glared at him. 

But he just grinned, handing you a glass of wine. 

“Don’t.” you bit out. 

“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? That you’re wasting your time on Minho when you could be -”

“Jisung.”

“Fine, fine.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender, but there was that glint in his eye. That Jisung glint. The one that promised things you didn’t want to think about right now.

Because Jisung? Jisung was safe. He was your comfort zone. The guy who knows exactly when to show up, exactly what to say (or not say), and exactly how to make you forget about Minho.

Like right now.

He set his wine down, leaned back, and patted his lap. “Come here.”

You hesitated, because you know where this is going. It wasn't like this was your first rodeo. But tonight, with Minho’s stupidly gorgeous, miserable face burned into your brain, you didn’t have the energy to resist.

You climbed into Jisung’s lap, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Let it go, babe” Jisung said softly. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. But you can make out with your incredibly sexy boy here to forget about him.”  

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“Ridiculously good in bed,” he shot back, leaning in closer.  

“Why am I even friends with you?”  

“Because I’m the only one who puts up with your Minho obsession and gives you orgasms on the regular.”  

You slapped his arm, but he caught your hand, tugging you closer with a smug grin.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice dipping. “Let me take care of you.”  

And that’s how it always is with Jisung. No questions. No strings. Just heat and comfort and the kind of laughter that made your tummy ache.

—-

Later, when you were lying in bed, thoroughly spent, he ran his fingers through your hair.

“You know, I’d treat you way better than Minho ever could.” Jisung teased. 

“Please. You’d annoy the crap out of me within a week.” you snorted. 

“True,” he admitted with a grin, kissing the top of your head. “But at least I wouldn’t make you cry.”

And damn it, if that didn’t make your stupid heart skip a beat.

You weren’t entirely sure why you agreed to this. Maybe it was the way Minho had looked at you, all big, sad eyes and that faint pout you couldn’t resist.  

Jisung smirked like the devil himself as he whispered, “We’re gonna regret this so hard, aren’t we?”  

Of course you did. 

The Christmas market was magical, with the twinkling lights, the scent of cinnamon and mulled wine, and obviously, the company of your friends - but Hana managed to suck the joy out of it faster than the Grinch with a vacuum cleaner.  

The mulled wine was too hot. The fudge was too sweet. The carols were too loud.

You gritted your teeth, gripping Jisung's arm so tight. Why the hell were you all letting her lead the way?! 

Hana stopped in front of a stall selling silk scarves and picked up a bright pink one. 

“Oh this would look good on me,” She announced, and Minho winced before gently saying, “It’s not really your color,” 

“Stop thinking about strangling her with that scarf, love.” Jisung whispered in your ear. 

You snorted, clapping a hand over your mouth as Hana shot you a glare. “Something funny?”  

“Nope,” Jisung said smoothly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoying the festive spirit.”  

“Can you not be so clingy?” Hana snapped at Jisung after she saw him move a strand of hair off your face. “It’s so… obvious.”

“Hana please-” Minho tried. He did.  

“Obvious?” you repeated, voice colder than the December air.

Hana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a condescending smirk.

“I mean, really. Do you need him to hold your hand all the time?” 

It took everything in you not to lunge at her, and only Jisung’s firm grip on your wrist stopped you from doing something you’d regret.  

“Relax,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. “She’s not worth it.”  

“I need to use the bathroom,” you hissed, yanking Jisung on your way, brushing past Minho.

“Why does he need to go with you?” Hana called after you, but you didn’t even glance back.

You stormed through the market, weaving past stalls until you found a quiet corner near a stand selling candied nuts. The scent was almost enough to calm you down. Almost. 

“I swear to god, Sungie, I’m gonna -”  

Before you could finish, Jisung spun you around and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “She’s not worth the jail time.”  

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, but your anger was already starting to melt under his touch.

“I just - ugh, she’s so -”  

“I know baby, I know,” Jisung said with a little chuckle.  

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself. 

“You’ve gotta let it go, babe. And honestly…” He grinned, his lips brushing yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re way cuter when you’re happy.”

“You’re so smooth,” you murmured, but your hands were already fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer.  

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, before finally kissing you.  

It definitely wasn’t the first time, of course, but it always felt new with Jisung. 

When you finally pulled back, your anger had dissolved into something softer, something sweeter.  

“You good now?” he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.  

“Better,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest.  

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from the world. “Now, let’s get back out there before Hana convinces Minho to buy her that ugly scarf.”  

“Do we have to?” You groaned.

“Hey, you dragged me here,” he pointed out with a grin.  

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”  

“I am,” he said, tilting your chin up to kiss you again. “Always.”    

The Christmas market outing hadn’t been great, but dinner was starting to look even worse. You all sat at a cozy little restaurant, candlelight flickering over the table while festive decorations twinkled. It should’ve been perfect. 

But then there was Hana.  

Minho had been eyeing the beef stew on the menu with excitement.

“I want to try this,” he said, but Hana barely looked up from her phone.

“That’s too heavy. Order the grilled salmon instead. It’s better for you.” she said, her bossy tone dimming the mood instantly.

Minho’s expression faltered as he said, “I kind of wanted the -”

“Salmon,” Hana interrupted, snapping her menu shut with finality. “Trust me. It's better.”  

You gripped your menu so hard you were surprised it didn’t rip in two. You wanted to stab her with the fork. No wait, you wanted to slap some sense into Minho.

But before you could actually do anything, you felt Jisung's hand on your thigh, his long fingers squeezing gently. 

“Salmon it is,” Minho muttered, deflating like a popped balloon. 

When the waiter came to your table, you watched Minho order two of those damn salmon.

 “I’ll have the beef stew, please.” you heard yourself say.

Jisung immediately chimed in, “And I’ll take the gnocchi.”

You snapped your head toward him, because you've been wanting that gnocchi. He winked at you and said, “It’s called teamwork, babe.”  

Your heart did a weird flip. Damn him and his perfectly calculated sweetness. Your eyes moved towards Minho, who was now clicking some pictures of Hana, and then to Jisung's hand on your thigh.

You placed a hand on top of his and squeezed tight.

—--

The food arrived a short while later, and Hana’s sharp eyes immediately darted to the beef stew in front of you. 

Without a word, you pushed your plate toward Minho.

“Here. Trade with me.” you said. 

Minho blinked, startled.

“What? No, I can’t -”  

“Minho,” you said softly, “it's ok, I want you to have it.”

He hesitated, glancing between you and Hana, whose mouth had tightened into a thin line.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his cheeks pink. 

“Positive.” You smiled, even as your heart twisted.  

Minho hesitated for another moment before switching plates with you.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice full of something you couldn’t quite place.

Before you could start on the salmon, Jisung slid his gnocchi in front of you and took the salmon for himself.

“Sungie, you didn't have to-” You stared at him, half smitten and half exasperated.

“It's for the greater good, you can thank me later,” he said cheerfully, digging in.

Hana’s glare could’ve frozen molten lava, though.

“Do you two always make everything about yourselves?”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, giving her a shit-eating grin.

“Mostly yeah.” he said, and you didn’t miss the way Hana’s eyes narrowed.

As you all fell silent, focusing on your food, you couldn't help but feel a weird pull in your heart. And it had nothing to do with Minho. And everything to do with this messy haired boy sitting beside you.

The cold air bit at your face as you and Jisung stepped out of the restaurant, the distant glow of holiday lights softening the edges of the night.

Now, you were walking side by side through the bustling city streets, holding hands. Snowflakes fluttered down, catching in his messy hair, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.  

You stopped walking, your breath clouding in the cold air. “Why are you so good to me, Sungie?”  

He stopped too, surprised at the abrupt halt and the unexpected question.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, making him look absolutely adorable. 

“Because I’m a mess,” you said, half-laughing, half-starting to cry. “Because I keep dragging you into this whole thing with Minho and I feel like I'm so damn selfish…you don't deserve this, Sungie-”  

“I'm doing this for me, not for you or anyone else. Can you try to accept that? I like being with you, ok?” he interrupted, his tone light but his eyes giving him away.  

Your stomach dropped. 

“Relax,” he added quickly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into that familiar smirk. “I’m just saying… I care about you. That’s it. No strings, no expectations. We agreed on that.”  

It was so Jisung - offering everything without asking for a damn thing in return. And it made you want to cry and kiss him all at once.  

So, you did the latter.

You stepped closer, gripping at his jacket tightly to pull him down to meet your lips. His breath hitched as you kissed him, soft at first, then deeper as he kissed you back.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as the world around you faded into nothing but the warmth between you two. 

When you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, he let out a breathless laugh.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“For being too good for your own good.” You smiled, your hands cupping his cheeks.

“Oh? Are you planning to ‘thank’ me properly?”  he asked, raising an eyebrow, his grin turning wicked.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you whispered, “Take me home then.”  

---

The second you stepped into his apartment, your back hit the door as Jisung kissed you like a man possessed. His hands were busy pulling your jacket off you, followed by your sweater and everything else. 

You sighed as you felt his lips and hands everywhere - as if he couldn’t get enough of you. 

“Been waiting for this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough. “You have no idea.”  

“Then show me,” you shot back, tugging him toward the bedroom.

He chuckled, both of you stumbling into his bedroom, and onto his bed. Clothes were shed, and he was settled in between your legs as he hovered over you.

As your eyes met, you saw something you didn't before - the softness of his gaze, a longing. And it made your heart flutter. Neither of you acknowledge it, and the rest of the night was a blur of soft whispers and sweet love making.

Jisung wasn’t just good - he was great, knowing exactly what you liked. And he did give, over and over again, until you were left breathless and completely exhausted.  

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“For what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your temple.  

“For being you.”  

Christmas Eve at Jisung’s place was always so chaotic. You both celebrate together when you couldn't travel back home for the holidays. 

Currently his living room was a mess with half-wrapped presents scattered across the floor, the scent of gingerbread in the air, and Jisung humming Christmas songs off-key. 

This year, though, Christmas came with an unexpected guest.  

Minho stood awkwardly in the doorway, a small bag in his hand and a defeated smile on his face. He looked exhausted. 

Hana was officially out of the picture. The breakup had been messy and so damn difficult, but Minho had finally done it. 

Jisung wasted no time pulling him into a tight hug. And you did too, because he needed all the hugs and love you could give because the poor man has been through a lot.

Minho slowly relaxed, even cracked a few jokes.

But it wasn’t until later, when the three of you were cleaning up in the kitchen, that he finally let the mask slip.

“You were right about her,” Minho said quietly, leaning against the counter as he dried a glass.

You glanced up from where you were wiping down the counter, surprised by the softness in his tone. 

“Minho -”  you began, but your eyes fell on Jisung, who quickly left the kitchen, leaving you alone with Minho. You didn't know why, but it absolutely shattered your heart to see him slip away like that. 

“No, let me finish.” He set the glass down and turned to you. “I shouldn’t have dragged it out. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I was scared to let go... I liked her so much, I kept thinking she would change…but deep down, I knew.”  

You stayed silent, giving him space to continue.  

“And I knew about you,” he admitted, his voice even softer now. “That you… liked me. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I never thought of you like that and I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should've said something.”

You exhaled slowly, leaning back against the counter.

“Love is weird, Minho,” You said quietly. “It's messy and complicated, and you don't have to feel bad about anything. Because you're ok, I'm ok… we're good.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours on the counter. 

“You and Jisung? I think it's great. He is such a nice guy, and it's so obvious that he loves you so much.” Minho said, giving you a grin. 

You smiled gently, your cheeks heating up.

“I think so too,” You whispered. “I’m glad you’re here, Lino…I’ll finish this up, you can go to bed. Get some rest, yeah?”

Minho nodded, pulling you into a quick hug before leaving the kitchen.

Your heart raced as you thought about what Minho said. You've been trying to decide how to bring it up with Jisung for a while now. But you were so afraid, because you know you wouldn't survive the heartbreak if you ever lost Jisung. 

He was everything to you. He made you feel wonderful - like the most special girl in the world. And it felt great. 

So you walked into the living room with wobbly legs, where Jisung was sitting by the Christmas tree, fiddling with a Rubik’s cube. The fairy lights reflected off his skin, making him look impossibly soft and adorable. 

When he saw you, his lips curved into that familiar, heart-melting smile.

“Hey,” he said, setting the cube down. “Everything ok?”

“Sort of.” You grinned, crossing the room to him. Without a word, you slipped into his lap, your arms draping around his neck.  

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, his hands instinctively settling on your hips. 

“Uh… not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?” he asked, his eyes darting towards the guest room where Minho was. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. 

Your eyes meet as you said, “I love you, Sungie.”  

His mouth fell open, and for a second, he just stared at you, completely shocked.

“You… what?”  

“I love you,” you repeated, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I have for a while now. I just didn’t realize it until - well, until recently.” 

The disbelief melted from his face, replaced by a slow, utterly pleased smile.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, pressing your lips to his forehead, before saying, “I love you.”

“Good,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been waiting to hear that for a really long time.”  

And then he kissed you - soft at first, but quickly deepening as his hands slid up your back. You put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, humming softly as his tongue caressed yours.

“I love you, baby,” He whispered against your lips. “God, I love you!”

You giggle, pressing kisses to his cheeks. 

“So,” he said, “How exactly do you want to ‘celebrate’?”  

You grinned, pulling him down into another kiss. “I have a few ideas.”  

This was your Christmas. And it was perfect.

Tags:

@moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix

[1d1195]

Two Negatives

~9.8 k words

From me: I promise it’s not going to be about math that much. This is an academic rivals sort of thing. It’s going to have at least two follow ups but this is the whole story overall. I think there are parts of it that are kind of hand-wavy and whatnot. Not completely connected or explained.

Warnings: Maybe if you read this the right way you may notice that Harry's a little bit of a sugar-daddy. Low self-esteem, cheating, mentions of sex stuff.

Summary: Harry loves annoying the girl in his classes. She's an easy target. And more often than not, she teases him right back.

Which Harry is an absolute sucker for.

“Hey,” he hissed.

She ignored him. Instead, her gaze bounced back between the board where Professor Charles was writing on the whiteboard and the paper in front of her alongside her notebook, dated and titled ready to jot down any issues she had as they worked through the new material.

Something hit the back of her head. Nothing that hurt. But she felt it in her hair. Probably a gum wrapper. Or maybe the actual piece of gum. She wouldn’t have been surprised. She reached behind her head without looking, grateful it wasn’t a piece of gum, and she dropped the wrapper in her bag beside her to dispose of later.

He dropped his calculator off his desk (flung it was more accurate) so it landed right by her foot. She didn’t flinch as it clattered and ignored the curious peeks of others looking at her like she was the one causing the noise.

“Give me a pencil,” he was right next to her, grabbing his calculator.

“Go fuck yourself,” she whispered so quietly she wondered if Harry could even hear her.

“Please! I forgot!”

“You always forget,” she hissed back.

Professor Charles cleared his throat. She glared at her paper as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. How dare Harry embarrass her in front of her professor because he was too stupid to bring his own pencil again. She placed dots on her graph as her professor did, stabbing at her paper a little too hard. Pretending it was Harry’s Voo Doo doll. Just so it would stop. So he would stop. But no. He was still knelt beside her.

“Mr. Styles, is everything alright?” Professor Charles asked.

“Yup, just tying m’shoe,” he said and stood up with a grin. That grin probably got Harry out of a speeding ticket, especially if he was pulled over by a female officer. Probably got him out of homework when he was in school because he knew how to make anyone feel flattered and good about themselves.

That stupid, pretty smile of his with the most adorable dimples probably melted any woman that looked his way.

Professor Charles rolled his eyes as he turned back to the whiteboard. At the same time Harry plucked her pencil from her grip mid stroke of the number eight she was writing. Before she could protest or even fully grasp that her writing utensil was stolen, Harry was back in his seat... right behind her. She took a deep breath and tilted her head to the ceiling trying to keep herself calm so she wouldn’t scream at him in front of everyone. So, she wouldn’t look like a lunatic. Why did he have to sit behind her? She reached into her bag and pulled out her pencil case and continued writing as if Harry hadn’t interrupted her at all.

*

She didn’t have a class following her lecture so she would have a second to breathe and eat, which wasn’t the case most days. Fortunately, she was head tutor at the academic center in the library which wasn’t far from the dining hall. It was also pretty easy going at the center, so she could eat while working. But it was always nice to pretend and be a regular student and eat in the hall. She listened to music and read her book. The only hour she got to read much these days. After tutoring, she would be headed to one more class before she was back to work at the college bar in the center of town.

Her schedule was mapped out to the minute. Her days filled to the brim with school and work. Because she didn’t have a choice. It was the same way every penny of her budget was scheduled and allotted for other things as well. It didn’t leave time for friends.

“Hey gorgeous.”

Well, one friend.

He pecked her cheek before sitting across from her. “Class good?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, how was yours?”

He reached over the table, held her hand, and skimmed his thumb along her knuckles. It was sweet. If it wasn’t so forced. “Good,” he smiled.

Isaac was an extremely handsome guy. He was popular, smart, and funny. His family had big plans for him and that was why he was on this prestigious college campus.

“Hi Isaac,” a flirtatious call sounded from across the room. He turned to find the culprit but came up short.

“By the door,” she said. Isaac turned releasing her hand as he did and waved at the girl who dissolved into giggles. After greeting the masses, he turned his attention back to her. “Can I suggest something?”

“Of course you can, girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you really want to be with the kind of girl who will openly flirt with someone in a relationship?”

“I think everyone knows it’s a fake relationship.”

“Regardless,” she shrugged.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, my love,” he winked. He grunted when she tossed one leg over the other beneath the table and perhaps overshot just a hair.

She met Isaac on the first day of college. She was bringing her own stuff into her dorm room alone. His parents caught sight of her. Recognized her as she looked like her mom’s twin from way back when they all roamed this campus themselves. But unlike them, she was there under very different circumstances. She greeted them politely, smiled, and chatted as she knew best.

But Isaac approached her later that evening. She was sweaty from unpacking all alone. Her saving grace was a dorm room to herself. Perhaps the only lucky thing about her freshman year. This place screamed money. Money that she didn’t have anymore.

Isaac screamed money. “I need your help.” So, Isaac made sure she didn’t die of hunger and didn’t become a complete social pariah. Made sure she was taken seriously because of course this campus was littered with people who didn’t believe smarts could come without money.

In return, she was to be a doting girlfriend. When his parents were around, she was to be a fixture on his arm. Would it last forever? Probably not. But at least she would be okay for four years. She was kind, lovely, the exact kind of girl they expected their son to find and help keep him stable to take over his father’s company.

The kind of girl that would let Isaac be with whoever. Of course they had their moments. Like the lunch breaks such as the current one. Making appearances so that if anyone asked it wouldn’t be unheard of that they were together.

But she was no stranger to the whispers. That poor girl has no idea her boyfriend is cheating on her.

Fortunately, she didn’t have time for a boyfriend. Especially not one like Isaac. So, if her fake boyfriend was cheating on her, then at least she didn’t have to deal with it. Each time his parents came to town it wrecked her schedule. Wreaked havoc on her study time. Her work time. After three years, it was starting to feel like more of a give and less of a take in comparison to him.

But Isaac was nice enough. He still thanked her profusely—especially when his parents were in town. He didn’t use a lot of tongue when he kissed her in effort to keep up appearances. Knowing where his tongue had been, she was grateful.

“I’m not jealous,” she told him. “I care about you enough that I don’t want your heart to get broken.”

“You know I don’t have one of those.” She rolled her eyes. “You know, I’d be happy to throw you a bone, my love,” he leaned toward her, his eyes flirty and his smile lascivious.

She snorted. “Not even if you boiled it in disinfectant.”

“Orgasms help with stress.”

“I’m not lacking in orgasms. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kinky, baby,” he winked. “You actually got me hard,” he told her. He wasn’t trying to sleep with her so much as he was willing to sleep with her. When they first arrived at college there were several firsts that both needed to accomplish and well, the fake dating wasn’t the only thing they were able to help each other out with. But after three years of rumors and knowing what Isaac was like outside their fake relationship, she was glad she got to him before all of the rumors swarmed around her.

“I have to go to work,” she told him getting up from the table.

Isaac really was a nice friend. Lovely even. But only if they were really alone. As time wore on, he got cocky and annoying—especially in public. It seemed like he was doing more of a favor for her than she was for him (even though she stopped asking him for things almost a month into their arrangement—shortly after she heard a rumor of a threesome).

But his parents loved her. They didn’t ask questions about his schooling or dating life because of her sweet nature. Originally, she felt guilty over their lie. But now, she was resenting that part of him more and more. He was a pretty good friend. But he was a dick of a boyfriend. “Are y’hungry, baby?” He asked.

She shook her head, cheeks blushing, and anger tingling in her blood. She hated the way he spoke to her in public; he sounded so condescending. Not at all like the kind and caring boyfriend he was supposed to pretend to be or even the kind and sweet friend he was behind closed doors. “Shut up, Isaac,” she sighed. His ego played a massive part in their friendship. He was rich and popular. She was not. “You sound like a douchebag.”

He pressed his lips to her ear, wrapped his arm around her waist. If she was looking in from the outside, she was sure it looked cute and romantic. “Mm,” he hummed ignoring her insult. “Can feed you something later,” he winked.

She knew people were watching so she smiled, leaned toward his ear. “If you’re going to feed me, I need a full meal.”

He chuckled, rolled his eyes and pecked her lips. “See you later, baby,” he kissed her softly again as he said it. “Gonna make sure you’re nice and full,” he promised loudly as he walked away. Not so loudly, that everyone would hear. But certainly loud enough for Harry Styles, who walked into the dining hall at that precise moment, to hear.

“Wow, bit extra for the dining hall,” Harry smirked. She glared at him, her cheeks warming.

“Don’t suppose you have my pencil?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his hands over his pockets. “Sorry Your Majesty,” he bowed in his over-the-top kind of way. “Clean out.” She rolled her eyes, grabbed her stuff, and made her way for the exit. Harry grabbed her hand at the last second pulling her back to look at him. “Y’okay?” He asked. “Y’look tired.”

She snatched her hand away. She was tired. But it didn’t feel good for it to be pointed out that she looked tired. “Thanks, I guess,” she rolled her eyes again. “I’m going to go now before you have a chance to insult me again.”

“Hey,” he frowned and called after her again as she continued walking away. “M’serious. Y’look like you’re getting sick.”

It was extremely unfair that Harry noticed that. “Are you concerned about me, Styles?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“Someone has t’remember t’bring me a pencil.”

“You could very much bring your own pencil.”

“Well, then I wouldn’t get t’have these lovely conversations every day, would I, Your Majesty?” She shook her head and ignored him as he continued speaking to her. “Hope he fucks y’good and full or whatever,” he called. She glared but refused to look back at him.

*

Harry appeared in one of her classes on the first day of her second year. A transfer from another school. His smile was panty-melting. Truly. Even she could recognize that. But regardless of how pretty he was, it was obvious how annoying he was going to be. He slid into the seat right behind her. “Hi,” he smiled. She ignored him, focusing on her professor starting class syllabus stuff. Besides, it seemed unlikely that someone like Harry was talking to her. “M’Harry,” he whispered.

She started scribbling on her notebook.

“He hasn’t even started yet,” he mumbled.

“Can I help you?” She turned around to look at him.

His smile was breathtaking. It really felt like he stole the breath from her lungs. “Sorry, Your Majesty. Didn’t mean t’interrupt y’doodle. Do y’have an extra pencil?” He asked.

She stared at the twenty-year-old man in his second year of college unprepared for his first day of classes. Perhaps if she rolled her eyes and ignored him, the trajectory of her life might have been something else entirely.

Instead, she handed her pencil to him.

“Thanks, Your Majesty.”

She rolled her eyes, anyway, facing forward.

*

In her Abstract Algebra class Harry was right behind her once more. “Psst.”

She ignored him. But his body was closer, his voice was closer. “Your Majesty,” he practically sang.

“What is your deal?” She hissed.

“I need a pencil.”

“Bring your own.”

“I like the one y’gave me. It wrote so smooth.”

She doesn’t know why she gave him a pencil.

But she really did know.

Harry was obviously handsome and from the way he chuckled under his breath over the lame jokes their professors made, he was quick and probably funny in his own way. But moreover, he had to be intelligent. Really intelligent to understand a pun about probability theory. The way others in the class fawned over him (guys and girls alike) it was apparent he was popular. Maybe popular like Isaac which made her dislike him just a bit.

It went that way every class. Harry was in four out of five of her classes both the fall and spring semester. Every class he needed a pencil. Each day he thanked her in his ridiculously attractive accent. Your Majesty.

What a dick.

But Harry talked to her. Even if it was just asking for a pencil. Or a picture of the notes he missed from when he went to the bathroom. He didn’t care that her family was broke. That she was broke. That she worked three jobs and hardly slept. He didn’t make her feel like she didn’t deserve to be on that campus.

“Did y’get the answer t’number nine?” It wasn’t a trick; he wanted her answer. Her opinion. “I got two different answers three different ways. There was no judgment that she couldn’t afford the extravagant lifestyle that her peers did. She had one winter coat. Not six to match her outfits. She didn’t have a car. She didn’t go out to eat and she made her own coffee except for on Saturdays when she splurged and treated herself to her favorite bagel and her favorite coffee.

Maybe it was because she saw him at a party. A girl at his side, smiling at him. Twirling her hair and touching his pretty chest. It was effortless. She didn’t have to try to flirt with Harry. It was a given. Rich, popular, perfectly pretty. The same as Harry.

Everything she wasn’t. Everything Harry would never want.

So she tended to Isaac. Kept to herself.

Gave Harry an absurd number of pencils.

Which continued into their third year. Where things got busier, harder, and more overwhelming.

But Harry was always right behind her. Asking for a pencil. Making her cranky.

But always making her feel normal when no one else did.

*

It was obvious Harry had money. The key on his ring had a symbol for a car that would never be in her price range. His clothes were pretty, the latest trends. Even his sweatpants looked like they were designer.

Maybe it could have been that way for her. Maybe if her dad hadn’t embezzled all their money. Hadn’t gone to jail and left her and her mother with anything more than a penny. Growing up she didn’t feel rich, but she never wanted. But right as she was applying to colleges, with only one college campus that made her heart happy, it was the first time in her life she thought about and hated money.

She imagined no one on campus ever felt that way.

But even if Harry had the nicest clothes and the nicest car, he never flaunted what he had. Not even to his friends. He didn’t show off or act like he had a ton of money. He was just there.

Which is why perhaps, when he annoyed her to pieces, she didn’t mind giving him a pencil in the end.

*

It was a bad day. She missed her mom. She was exhausted. Didn’t have time to make herself a coffee which just felt criminal. The test on her mind nearly brought her to tears as she sat down in her seat, seconds before her professor walked in.

Her pencil case was empty.

Part of her felt sad she wouldn’t have a pencil for Harry. Would he ask someone else? Would he stop asking her because of it? God, why did she even care? It was a blessing. He would stop asking her. She wouldn’t have to keep wasting money she didn’t have on pencils.

Plus, he wasn’t even there.

The test landed on her table. Her brain felt weary. Was she getting sick? Probably. Stress did a number on her immune system. It was a miracle she wasn’t sick all the time.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes she tried to calm her mind. It wasn’t the time to think about the reading she needed to complete, the shift she was covering at the academic center, or the dinner she was really looking forward to splurging on. It had been ages since she had chicken in her pasta dish.

“Hey,” how long were her eyes closed? How did she miss him coming to his seat.

“I don’t have a pencil, Harry,” she hissed back.

“Of course, y’do,” she could hear his eye roll.

“I don’t, I forgot my pencil case.”

He snorted. Her eyes flicked to Professor Charles who didn’t look up from his own paper at the front of the room. “C’mon, quit being a brat.”

“A brat?” She whispered.

“Quiet,” Professor Charles still didn’t look up.

“Sorry Your Majesty, jus’ give me a pencil and—”

“I don’t have one!” Her voice was quiet and maybe if she wasn’t only two rows from the front of the room, it wouldn’t have been a big deal when he pulled it out of her grip.

But she was towards the front.

Professor Charles stood beside their desks. “You’re both excused.”

Her face felt hot and pale at the same time. She felt like she was going to throw up. The feeling of eyes on her made her more embarrassed than the time she tripped and fell at her third-grade band concert. “Professor Charles,” she started.

“Enough,” he snagged her paper from her desk. Her throat felt tight, her eyes prickled, and she thought that maybe in a different life she could have been friends with Harry. Liked him, even.

But not then.

She bit on her lip to keep from crying as she packed her stuff into her bag and marched out of the room, head held high, and ignoring everyone’s stare. Especially the guy following her out of the classroom.

*

She slapped the door to the building as Harry continued following her. She was fuming. Practically steaming from his perspective. Yet he couldn’t help but think she looked absolutely adorable. “Quit fucking following me!” She snapped.

“My God, you’re so uptight,” he rolled his eyes.

“Harry Styles, you’re an absolute dick. Just leave me the fuck alone, for God’s sake.”

It garnered the attention of a few onlookers. But their path to the dining hall was quiet given it was the middle of class time. "Jesus Christ, do y’ever jus’ take a break? S’one fuckingtest, Your Majesty. For fuck’s sake. He’ll probably drop it. Quit being a baby."

A sniffle. One small, tiny noise.

"You don't get it do you?" She snapped. She didn’t want to. But she couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was too much. The final straw.

In the entire time Harry had known her he had never seen her this upset. Not like this. Not to the point where she was crying.

Because of him.

He made her cry.

"I have a squeaky-clean record. I have to be perfect all the time. I can't let one hair be out of place. I can't get one bad grade. If I do, then everyone around me makes comments and they assume it’s because I have no money. The poor girl can’t hack it here. It's this massive pressure on me all the time. I can't get caught doing normal party things. I can't get caught cheating on a test, Harry. I can’t. I lose my scholarship if I don't maintain my GPA. I can hardly afford to be here, Harry. I have to work three jobs. I have to budget every minute of my time as much as every dollar of my bank account. Do you know I haven't been home in three years? I miss my mom so much and I can’t even afford to go see her and I just pretend because—” she covered her mouth and Harry swallowed hard, willing himself to not cry as well. This wasn’t about him. This was all about her right now. “And now,” she croaked. “I’m going to have to skip dinner because I need to buy new pencils because I have been giving them to someone who’s too fucking inconsiderate to even fucking return them after annoying me for no better reason that for kicks.”

Her sniffles turned into sobs and Harry had never felt like more of an ass. He thought she was annoying at worst, but he never wanted her to cry.

Her crying, all her tears, they were all his fault.

"I study so hard. I have to. But I want to. I want to make enough money to support my mom, and I can’t do one thing wrong because if I do then I’ll lose everything. I have to study. I’m not like you, Harry. You just know everything and that's amazing, Harry, it really is,” and for the first time since he started interacting with her, Harry felt horrible for the way he had treated her. The compliment she gave was so thoughtful. The kindness in her voice was unmissable. He was practically shocked it even came from her mouth. “But not all of us are gifted with insane intelligence like you. Not all of us are God's gift to women and can go out and party and not be judged for kissing someone I like. Not all of us can afford to be here without help."

Harry kept his lip between his teeth to keep from speaking.

“I’ll get over it,” she sniffed. “Sorry for being so uptight.” She wiped her face and stalked off toward her dorm.

Harry had never felt worse about himself.

*

She wore her best interview dress. Her hair was pinned precisely so that the pieces that constantly flew away were at bay. She swallowed the rock that formed in her throat as she knocked on her professor's office door.

"Come in."

"Professor Charles," she was grateful he didn't look up because she was worried, she was going to curtsey or something equally ridiculous. "I wanted to apologize—"

"Your boyfriend already came to tell me he's at fault for the fiasco in class. He took full responsibility and said it was extremely unfair of me to refuse you the exam."

Her heart skipped a beat. "M-my boyfriend?" She whispered.

"Mr. Styles is very bold and I suppose I was a bit harsh. You are a brilliant young woman and role model to your peers," he praised. "Would you like to take the test now or schedule another time?" He asked looking up from his work.

She swallowed. "Um..."

"I would appreciate it, if you took it now. I need an answer key to grade the rest of them," his voice was steady, but she felt the compliment down to her bones. "I have a class in two hours, and I was hoping to check grading off my to-do list before it started," he explained.

She felt uneasy, overwhelmed, but not like she did when she sat down the first time to take the same exam. "I can do it now," she whispered and dropped her bag at her feet and situated herself at the table on the side of his office below the window. She got to work and completed the test as if all it asked was for her to write the alphabet down. She was checking over her work when she glanced out the window and saw the sprawling campus. There were people walking by at fast clips. Eager to get to the dining halls and rushing to make it to their classes on time.

But in the midst of all the people running by, there was Harry, sitting on a bench. His arm stretched across the back of it, while the other held his phone. He crossed his feet at his ankles and looked like a model for relaxation.

He took the complete blame for the test. She felt her heart aching and she stood from the table and went over to her professor's desk. "Is... Mr. Styles able to retake the exam as well?"

"I wasn't planning on it," he looked up at her. "Why?"

She bit her lip, looked at her feet. "I could have just given him a pencil."

"Mr. Styles should be prepared for his own education," he said knowingly. There was no way she was going to explain her relationship with Harry to her professor. Plus, she wasn't sure she'd be able to. She dropped her gaze and handed off her exam. "You can tell Mr. Styles he can come up and take the test," he said simply. "I have the answer key now."

She blinked.

"He'll probably ace it as well, but your handwriting is neater," he shrugged, tipped his glasses further down his nose and silently read her answers. She stood still, like she was waiting for the danger to pass. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?" He asked glancing back up. She shook her head, pinned to her spot. The strangeness of it all was overwhelming. "Men like Mr. Styles are going to have it a lot easier than you. The field you’ve selected is male-dominated and many will sell you short because of your gender," he said. "That doesn't mean you need to worry about your worth," he assured her. "You are a brilliant, hardworking, and talented individual. Mr. Styles should be bringing you pencils to class."

Her cheeks felt warm.

"Also, to be fair, it's nice to know you're not cheating off of each other because it was getting a little suspicious," he turned her exam back across his desk and wrote her score at the top of her page, upside down—98%. "Missed a negative."

"If Harry misses it, can you knock off more points?" She asked before she could stop herself then felt herself blush at how ready she was to throw him under the bus. She looked down shyly and covered her mouth before she looked up at him again.

Her strict professor made a face that resembled somewhat of a smile. "Of course."

“Thank you,” she hoped she sounded as gracious as she felt.

“Great work,” he nodded in response.

She headed out of the office and walked toward the bench. She sat beside him and faced forward. Harry put his phone back in his pocket and turned only his head toward her. "How'd y’do?" He asked.

"Ninety-eight."

He tutted. "Too bad," he smirked.

A smile twitched at her lips. She looked up at the sky briefly. "He said you can go on up and take it now," she told him.

He blinked. Surprise coloring his pretty features. Harry rarely seemed stunned, especially because of her. It was cute and also exciting that he was surprised by her. "What?"

She looked at her lap, trying to focus on her nails but not for too long because she was worried that she would gnaw on them if she let the nerves overtake her. "That was... the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," she whispered. "Especially for Professor Charles' class," she continued. Taking a deep breath, she looked at him. "I was obnoxious. Bad day or whatever... it wasn't your fault and I’m sorry I made a big deal of it."

"I just wanted you to stop crying. You look ridiculous when you cry."

She smiled. A genuine one. Not a forced one that Harry had seen her give everyone under the sun. Not the one that she plastered on her face during presentations. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. “Y’had every right t’be mad at me. I was a complete dick.”

She shrugged. “I... I should have just given you a pencil... it turned out there was one at the bottom of my bag and... I kind of... like giving you a pencil. You just caught me at a really bad moment.”

“I know. M’sorry. I knew y’looked off.”

She tilted her head at him. “You knew I looked off?”

“M’pretty good at memorizing all your different looks,” he had a smile that made her melt. “Like right now, s’one of m’favorites. Y’look relaxed. It happens once, roughly, every three weeks, I think. Lasts maybe four minutes if m’lucky,” he winked. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. But Harry noticed how her cheeks turned red. It made him want to continue flirting with her. She was fun to flirt with. Her sarcastic comments were funny, even when directed at him, and it only amplified how smart he knew she was.

As much as Harry wanted to stay on that bench for as long as she did, he finally stood. Then rubbed the back of his head squinting at her, one eye closed. "Do you have a pencil?" He asked shyly.

She snorted, plucked hers from her pocket, and held it out to him. "I'd like it back," she reminded him. Even if he didn't, it was their thing now.

He rolled his eyes. "Wait here. It'll only take me half the time it took you." She rolled her eyes but pulled out a book from her bag and opened it to the page she was previously reading. "Hey kitten?" He asked. She didn't look up and Harry realized he never called her anything other than Your Majesty. He nudged her foot to make her look up. "Who did y’think I was talking to?" He chuckled.

"Who me?" She asked, but Harry noted the way her cheeks turned red. He rolled his eyes. "Sorry," she shook her head. "Did you need something else?"

His expression softened and he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," her voice was so gentle. "I'm sorry too."

"There's nothing y'need t'apologize for,” he shook his head quickly. “I was a complete ass," he admitted. She shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he said seriously. “Please don’t let anyone treat you that way.” She nodded silently. Knowing that she couldn’t promise that. Nor did she expect Harry to make her keep such a promise, but it made her heart squeeze with disappointment in herself. “Be right back,” he nudged her foot again as he headed back to the math building. She returned to her book and tried not to think about how Harry was probably right. This was the most relaxed she felt in months.

About forty minutes later Harry exited the building, walking at a leisurely pace. He sat on the bench once more. She didn't look up as he did but the butterflies in her stomach reminded her that he was there. Harry draped an arm across the back of the bench and then presented her pencil to her as if it were a bouquet of flowers. "How'd you do?" She asked gently.

He sighed, clucked his tongue. "Ninety-five,” she smiled but tried and failed to hide it from him. "I missed two negatives."

She giggled. "How embarrassing."

"How embarrassing," he mocked in a voice that was meant to sound like her. "You're so annoying. Do y’know he uses your work as the answer key?"

It had to be a record. The longest time they had been together without bickering. The number of times she smiled because of him.

The fastest someone had ever fallen for someone she was supposed to hate.

*

When Harry saw her boyfriend, he started looking for her. He was clearly busy with his friends and the women they were entertaining. But she wasn’t amongst them. He did a loop around the party. Looking for her even if he shouldn’t have. He stopped and chatted during his search so it wouldn’t be obvious. But even when he did stop and leaned against the wall, or grabbed another drink, he kept scanning for her.

When his loop came up empty of the pretty girl he liked to annoy, he wondered where she was and how he could ask without it being weird.

“Hey stranger,” Eleanor smiled and kissed his cheek. “Where’ve you been?”

Louis gave a polite wave to his best friend from across the way, a knowing smile on his lips, grateful that someone he trusted could keep an extra eye on his lady.

“Jus’ wandering around,” he mumbled.

Did he sound disappointed? He felt disappointed.

She stared at him and stood on her toes to reach his ear so she could speak to him directly over the loud music. “She’s not here.”

“What?” Harry pulled back like she slapped him. Was it that obvious? It couldn’t have been. He was just… wandering. Like a lost, lovesick puppy wondering where she was and hoping he would find her to make the weird feeling in his chest go away. Eleanor cocked an eyebrow at him. Silently telling him that hewas not fooling her. “Fuck,” he mumbled sipping his drink. It was pathetic and obvious.

“She doesn’t come to these things,” Eleanor shrugged.

“Why?”

She sighed, rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t want her here.”

Harry felt like the words Eleanor said were spoken in a language he didn’t know. “Who doesn’t want her here?”

“Her boyfriend.”

The grip on the bottle Harry was holding tightened. “Oh.”

“Go ahead. Ask.”

“Ask what?”

“Harry.” He closed his eyes and looked around to find him. It was like he already knew it was going to break him. He didn’t want El to continue even though he knew he needed to hear it. “What he told her to keep her away? She dotes on him too much. Worries too much about her reputation and everyone else’s. She doesn’t have fun. So, he doesn’t want her here. At these kinds of things.”

Honestly, a party didn’t seem like her vibe. She was more of a game night kind of girl. Someone you could take to a family cookout or a pool party with kids. But calling her not fun? Because frankly, Harry realized he hadn’t liked a single party he’d been to in months and it’s because her banter wasn’t there to keep him company.

“Oh,” he murmured. Trying to feign indifference.

“Don’t you want to ask what I think?” Harry didn’t look at his friend. His eyes finally landing on the man that didn’t deserve the sweet, intelligent, and beautiful girl he didn’t invite. He followed his path up the stairs to the second floor. Right as Eleanor told him the worst thing he had ever heard. “He hooks up with other girls and he has the common decency to do it behind her back,” she shrugged.

“What?!” He spit his eyes dropping to Eleanor again. How could she be so casual about this?

“She knows…or I would imagine she suspects,” she shrugged. “But she’s good for his family. They adore her. And he helps her reputation. She’s trying so hard to dig her family—”

It was like he knew. Everything. All of it made sense. Every tiny fiber of her being was made for someone else—whether it was her family who she adored and helped as much as possible, Isaac who didn’t deserve her at all, or even Harry, who honestly wasn’t sure he was much better than Isaac. “Does she know he sleeps with them?”

Eleanor looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t know if they sleep with him. I’m assuming. But I think it’s a pretty good assumption. He’s probably—”

Harry slammed his bottle on the ground shattering it and drawing the attention of those around him. He took the stairs two at a time and opened every door to every room—an unspoken party rule: never open a closed door.

He was breaking it.

A girl shrieked and he just knew he had found the right room. He didn’t pay any attention to her scrambling to cover up her naked chest and instead yanked him clean off the bed. “What the fuck!?” Harry shoved him back into the hall. He was only in his boxers. Piece of shit. Someone whistled and Harry shoved him harder as he tried to push him back and make his way for the bedroom again. “What the fuck, Styles?!”

“Call her,” he snarled. Shoving him against the wall again when he tried to continue escaping. “End it. Now.”

“What are you—”

“You’re going t’cheat on her?” Harry’s voice was venomous. “Her?” He repeated. Like that was really all he needed to say. Everyone was staring now. Harry kept going. “Call her and end it. Or I’m going over and telling her you’re done.”

The stupid prick tilted his head at Harry almost condescendingly. “Do you want her? She’s not like us.”

Harry didn’t like the way he said us. There wasn’t a single connection he wanted to be associated with in context of the vile piece of trash in front of him. Other than he managed to pick the sweetest girl he had ever met. But simultaneously, the very wrong girl to fuck with, because Harry also picked her. Unlike the moron in front of him, he was going to do everything he could to protect her and her heart.

“She’s doesn’t have money. She won’t understand—”

Harry punched him across the cheek before he could stop it and someone else watching groaned at the impact and Harry continued talking. “Tell her now.”

“Christ, Styles! What the fuck!” He rubbed his jaw.

“Tell her.”

“I’m not telling her shit. She knows she needs me more.” Harry jerked back like he had punched him back. “What? You don’t think she’d give up the reputation I have, do you?”

Harry watched him silently for only a moment longer. Without a word, he headed back into the bedroom grabbing the stray clothes. Before anyone could rationalize exactly what he was doing, he was sprinting down the steps and outside.

He threw them in the pool without thinking, ignoring the laughter and shouts from him as he hurried around the side of the house. He continued running and didn’t look back.

*

Harry was in her dorm. On her floor. Stopped in front of her door.

He knocked.

Repeatedly.

There was no answer, but he knew she was there.

So, he knocked again.

And again.

Eventually there was a click of her lock despite the fact it couldn’t be opened without her key card. Of course she was all about safety. Finally, he heard her voice starting to speak as she opened the door. “I’m off duty if you have an emergency, you’re supposed to see the RA on duty and—” The door was open and out of the way before she finished talking. Harry pressed himself inside. “Harry! What are you—”

“Tell me s’not true.”

“What’s not true?”

“Y’know he hooks up with other women?” He glared at her.

The color drained from her face.

Harry rubbed his hand across his face. “What is the matter with you?! Are you so desperate for a scrap of affection you’ll open yourself up t’diseases and shit because you—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed tears stinging her eyes instantly.

“—need him? You don’t need him. You’re a thousand times better than him. A million! Y’could have any guy y’want, and they would still want t’grovel at your feet. Why would y’pick the one Goddamn asshole who—”

“You don’t know shit. Harry Styles. Stop pretending like you know me because —”

“Then explain it t’me because I can’t think of one fucking reason someone as intelligent, kind, beautiful, and hilarious as you would—”

A weird noise left her throat. Almost a squeak. It was adorable. If Harry wasn’t so mad. He would have told her such. Would have reveled in it because she was so fucking sweet and cute. But instead, she asked the most heartbreaking question known to man.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Her question was so soft. So unbelievably shocked. Innocent. All the words left his head. It was too quiet. His shoulders were rising and falling too hard and too fast. “What?” He shook his head.

She looked at her feet. Harry scanned her. Her shirt was too big. It didn’t look like she was wearing pants. Maybe she wasn’t. Harry hoped she wasn’t. She only wore one sock. Like she lost the other in her sheets or maybe she only purposefully put one on because only that foot was cold. Those pretty eyes looked at him, anxiety, frustration, sadness, all staring back at him from the depth of her soul. “No one has ever said I’m beautiful before.”

Harry felt something die in his chest. He really thought he would start groveling on his knees for her because he was one of millions of guys who wanted to grovel at her feet. He wanted to be better. As soon as he made her cry over missing a test, he wanted nothing more than to be better for her. “No one?”

“Just... my family...” She shrugged.

“Kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “You’re… you’re really beautiful,” he rubbed a hand over his mouth, pinching his lower lip, as he scanned her. “In a way that probably makes a lot of girls jealous,” she snorted. He sighed. “Seriously. Your hair, kitten. It’s... so silky and shiny and your eyes,” he shook his head. “And your brain, my God,” he smiled softly. “M’not even going t’mention your body. Because you’re more than your appearance, but m’really...” he nearly sighed like a lovesick teenager. Maybe part of him still was. “You’re stunning, kitten.”

She blushed. Really blushed. So hard that Harry could see it in the dim light of her room cast from the twinkly lights she had strung around the window. Her cheeks were so red and utterly beautiful. For a second Harry thought it would be easy. All of it. Getting her to like him. Trust him.

Her face morphed into one of utter distrust. “That’s mean,” she whispered. “You’re... that’s mean to...” she shook her head.

“Kitten,” he frowned. Unable to believe she could think like that. He didn’t even know where to begin. Everyone had to like her. She was lovely, beautiful, so intelligent it took his breath away.

But she mistook his hesitation for the worst. She shook her head. “Forget it. You’re just... being nice to me because... because you feel bad or something,” she sniffled. The poor thing couldn’t even take his compliment. Harry wanted to cry. “Just the way everyone else does,” she laughed bitterly. “Thank you for being nice. Or whatever. For wanting to protect me. I don’t need it,” her voice cracked. “You can go back to your party or... whatever it is that—”

“Love,” his heart felt achy.

“No seriously. I get it. I’m too nice. I’m stupid to let him walk all over me but you don’t know the kind of reputation my family has in comparison to everyone here. So yeah. I let him use me as a prop—”

“Stop it,” he snapped and shook his head.

“—because I’m good for his image, too. Even if it makes me miserable and—”

“Kitten, I’m serious. Stop it,” his voice was almost raw. Like he had been screaming for hours. Maybe it was the combination of anxiety and frustration rushing through him. Like adrenaline but worse. He wanted to cry.

“—it’s pathetic that when people see me with him, they see this innocent—”

“Shut. Up.”

“—intelligent girl who doesn’t know anything because her family is poor and broken—”

“Stop it!” His voice took on a new octave. It made her words fall away.

They were both seething with anger and frustration. The tears in her eyes made him sick. Like when he made her cry because she couldn’t take her test. It was only the second time, but he quickly realized he hated it when she cried. “Stop what, Harry?”

“Stop minimizing who you are,” he practically growled.

“Everyone else does it.”

“Oh yeah? Name one time I’ve done that. If everyone has done it; tell me, kitten. When have I. Ever. Made you feel like less?”

She was silent. Finally.

Harry never made her feel like less. He annoyed the shit out of her. Pissed her off and made her sad. But he never made her feel like she didn’t deserve to be on that campus. Never made her feel inferior.

“M’going t’kiss you,” he warned stepping closer to her now that he made his point.

Her brain restarted. Her cheeks flushed again. “Harry, we can’t I’m... in a relation—”

He glared at her as her back pressed to her bed frame. Cornering her in her open room that was suddenly infinitesimally smaller than it was seconds before. “S’not a fucking relationship,” he snarled. “M’not sure what y’were doing. But you’re not doing it anymore. Not with him. Never again.”

“But we were—”

“Y’don’t need him,” he assured her. “Trust me.”

“But—”

“Y’have me, kitten. M’gonna do whatever y’need,” he cupped the back of her neck, making the words stop on the tip of her tongue and put one hand on the small of her back, pulling her to him swiftly and devouring her lips. She moaned instantly, seconds into the kiss. His lips felt like warm little pillows. Cushioning her own. It was intoxicating. Unfairly, he pulled away almost as quickly as it started. “Oh s’nice, kitten,” he praised. “Moaning already,” he pulled back and peppered kisses along her jaw. She whimpered softly, making him groan. “Y’make pretty little noises like that, kitten. M’not gonna be responsible for what comes next,” he warned pressing his lips back to hers.

Her fingers tangled in his hair at the back of her head. Harry leaned forward arching her backward and wrapping his arms around her tightly. He didn’t want to be aggressive, but there was something in the way her mouth tasted, the way her body felt, that he couldn’t stop kissing her. Hardly breathing, or maybe he was trying to breathe all of her in, he continued pulling her lips into his mouth. Hoping that somewhere along the way, they would get stuck like that. Destined to spend eternity attached by their kiss like a Greek punishment. Except the endless touch of her mouth wouldn’t be punishment. Because he wanted it to be endless. Wanted to spend forever showering her with affection because she deserved that and so much more.

“Can I stay the night, kitten? I’ll sleep on the floor if y’want,” his voice was practically ragged. His forehead pressed to hers. “I jus’ don’t want t’leave you. Please don’t make me leave.”

“You can stay,” she whispered, her voice breathless and airy. “Not on the floor, though.”

“M’not a bat, kitten. Can’t hang from your ceiling,” he joked.

She snorted. “C’mon,” she tugged him to her bed and pulled her in right behind her beneath her covers.

There weren’t many times Harry felt peace. “Harry?” She asked, as she settled into his embrace. His lips skimmed along her face, pressing every so often to whatever he could reach. Like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He squeezed her. “You’re welcome, beautiful.”

She sighed. “Your mouth is pretty nice when you’re not talking,” she said quietly.

He chuckled. “Just you wait and see, kitten.”

*

As lovely as the night before was, she tried to maintain a semblance of her routine between replaying the kiss(es) and the angry confession over and over in her head. At the moment, she was grabbing lunch for herself. It was probably going to set her back a bit since she’d need to buy more pencils since Harry stole them all, but she was a little too tired to go without supplying herself with more energy. She pulled her wallet out as the cashier rang her up. “It’s all set, love,” she said sweetly. Tilting her head, she gazed at the woman as if it were a joke.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s all set,” she repeated. “Your food’s been paid for already.”

She blinked, glanced around, looking for someone that fit the description of Good Samaritan. “Who...?”

“I’m not sure. I was just told that if you came through the line to tell you it’s been taken care of. You can get whatever you want,” she shrugged.

Blinking again she glanced around again. A line formed rapidly behind her. She gathered her items and headed for a seat. The one where Isaac usually joined her. But there was no Isaac. She read her book and listened to her music in silence. It was peaceful. When the hour was up, she headed back to the kitchen area to grab another snack, lining up behind the others waiting to check out as well. “Your food’s paid for.”

She felt like she was being pranked. “Again?”

“No, always.”

She felt like her mind was short circuiting. “What?”

“Your meals. All have been paid for. For the year.”

The snack she got was going to be uneaten because she felt like it was a prank. “I don’t understand.”

“I really don’t have more details than that. We were just told your food was paid for.”

“We?”

“My boss left, but I can have him reach out and explain it.”

“Please. Thank you.”

Stunned, she left with her snack. She headed to the library academic center. The tutors on her shift all waved to her. “That gift is for you,” Gabby said. At the front table was a fairly large giftbag. The kind you get for a kid’s birthday and put a board game in it. She looked at it curiously and pulled the tissue paper out of the way. She swallowed the lump in her throat realizing she didn’t need the dining hall manager to reach out to her after all.

She plucked the card from the slot on the side of the bag.

Half are probably for me anyway.

The bag was filled with packages of her favorite pencils. More than she would need for the rest of her undergraduate degree. Maybe even graduate. Or even the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath and pulled out her laptop and opened her email. She typed in Harry’s address, because she still didn’t have Harry’s phone number. Even after making out with him for hours. After waking up in his arms later than she was supposed to and letting his lips linger on her skin.

She wrote her message and pressed send before she could overthink it.

You didn’t have to do that. It’s way too much, actually. I’m a little uncomfortable imagining you spending THAT much money on food and pencils.

Well. If you died of starvation, I wouldn’t have anyone to bother. Kind of a boring way to suffer through the last two years of college—we have Real Analysis I and II next year. I can’t do that alone.

Thank you. That was... very nice of you.

You’re welcome, kitten. Coffee is free too; I went to every shop within walking distance and left your picture. An old ugly one from your mom’s Facebook page, don’t worry. Didn’t want you to get a big head about all of this. It’s not a big deal.

Help yourself to whatever you need and if you need something else let me know.

And this is my phone number so you can stop emailing me like it’s 2003.

She smiled fondly at the message. Closed her laptop and felt happier to be at work than she had in weeks.

*

Harry didn’t force anything. She was lying against his chest in her small room, on her small bed. “I’m sorry it’s so cramped,” she whispered.

“S’better for snuggling,” he shrugged and kissed the top of her head. “Go t’sleep, please, kitten.”

“Don’t you want to... I don’t know, fuck or something?”

“Well, when y’propose it so romantically like that,” he murmured.

She pouted. “I don’t know... I just assumed that...”

“That m’like Isaac? Please don’t make that assumption anymore.”

“So, you don’t want to fuck me?”

“Oh, more than anything,” he tilted her head up and brushed his finger on her warm cheek. “But not until you’re ready.”

“I literally just—”

“No. Y’think s’because we’re supposed to. Not because y’want to,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll wait,” he promised and kissed the tip of her nose, and it was the lamest kind of kiss imaginable. Being twenty-one and melting over a kiss on the nose.

Yet it made her want a thousand more of them. Made her want to cry with how adored she felt. Harry didn’t care that she worked a thousand hours. He didn’t expect her to make out with him. Or blow him. Or anything sexual. No, he practically begged her to sleep in his arms.

It was unfair how sweet he was wrapped up in the body of someone that made her infuriated for the last year and a half. Right as she was about to pass out, she jerked herself awake involuntarily. “Y’okay, love?” He hummed as if she so much as coughed and not nearly punched Harry in the face with her movement.

“Tired.”

“I know, baby. M’trying t’make y’sleep,” he combed her hair down. Traced her spine in the same movement. “Surprise, surprise, you’re a bit stubborn.”

“Who me?”

“Want me t’sing?”

“Don’t want my ears to bleed, no.” Harry chuckled softly. Ignored her.

Then hummed.

It was so warm, so soft, it felt like magic. Harry could sing. That wasn’t on any Bingo cards when she thought about Harry. She didn’t even know what song he was singing. But it lulled her right to sleep.

*

Harry was wrapped around her in the small bed, his head tucked below her chin, his face smushed into the front of her shirt. If she wore a lower cut shirt, Harry would have been drooling on her boobs. “You’re able to breathe in there?” She whispered, threading her fingers through his hair.

“S’the only way I want t’go,” he promised, his voice muffled with sleep and the fabric on her body. “Or with y’legs wrapped around m’head,” he shrugged one shoulder. If Isaac said that to her, she would have punched him. When Harry said it, it made her want to wrap her legs around his head. Made her squeeze her legs together. “Felt that,” he mumbled. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, so he had no choice but to feel it. “Did y’sleep okay?”

She nodded. “Did you?”

“Extremely. Wrapped up in m’favorite girl.”

Her heart fluttered and she kissed the top of his head. Never would she have imagined Harry being so sweet and lovely like this. “Are you... going to be mean in public to me?”

“I hope not,” he pulled away and rubbed his eye. He looked sleepy and boyish. A devilish combination for her skeptical heart. “Have I been mean t’you?” He asked. “I know I tease, but mean?” She supposed he wasn’t mean. Maybe the teasing tricked her.

“I guess the teasing—”

“M’so sorry love,” he frowned and cupped her cheeks, kissed her softly on the lips. “No more teasing,” he promised.

“Well,” she laughed softly. “I kind of like teasing you.”

He smirked. “I don’t want you to think m’mean,” his eyebrows pinched together.

“Can I ask you a question without making fun of me?”

“I think that depends on the question, kitten. If y’ask me some basic math problem like what’s the indefinite integral of x-squared times cosine x or what’s a negative times a negative—”

“Are we dating?”

He stopped his joke and cupped her face. Dropped his forehead to hers and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “I would fucking hope so, kitten.”

She swallowed. “You don’t care that I’m broke? Or that I work a lot and I’m crazy and—”

“No, I don’t care ‘bout any of that. You’re m’favorite person to annoy. The person I look forward t’seeing most in class. You’re the entire reason ‘ve never skipped class.”

Her heart fluttered. “You can’t pay for everything, Harry. It was a sweet sentiment but—”

“M’not letting m’girlfriend starve,” he rolled his eyes.

Her heart definitely fluttered. He was sweet. Harry was sweet. What a revelation. Or maybe she always knew that.

She looked into those beautiful green eyes that made her feel overwhelmed in the best way. “Why do you call me Your Majesty?” She whispered quietly. Almost scared to hear the answer.

He rolled his eyes again. A favorite past time of his. “Because kitten,” he pressed his lips over hers briefly, then kissed her forehead, and finally the tip of her nose. He met her gaze and made sure she was focusing when he spoke again. In a few minutes she would be busy, overwhelmed, and stressed. For the moment, Harry wanted to make sure she knew just how important she was to him. “I think you’re a queen.”

--

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[starrbishops]

⟡Sidelines⟡

(Bob Reynolds x f!Reader)

Summary: Your boyfriend worries about you. A lot. When you come home injured, he immediately focuses on taking care of you, in more ways than one. (Based partially on Sidelines by Phoebe Bridgers)

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: Set after the events of Thunderbolts*, established relationship, SMUT!!! oral sex (f receiving), reader injury (stab wound), Bob is a nervous but caring bf, and a MUNCH (bless his heart)

a/n: This is my first published Bob fic! I'm still trying to get a sense of how to write him but this is sort of me trying to character build what he's like post TB and in a relationship. But if there are two things I do know it is that he is Phoebe Bridges coded and that that boy eats pussy like the last goddamn supper so I give you this.

One thing Bob didn’t expect about being in love was how anxiety inducing it was.

He still didn’t fully believe your relationship was real; that you’d said yes to him asking you out, kissed him that night outside the tower, excitedly told everyone about your new relationship. It was strange, having someone be proud of him, but a feeling he had come to love.

You were kind to him. He still wasn’t used to the feeling of being wanted, or even tolerated, let alone loved. But the way you treated him, not like a burden or like he was made of glass, made him love you.

And with that, came with being constantly worried whenever you were out on a mission, even doing simple recon. He tried to stay calm, not be annoying about it, yet he always found himself imagining the worst, that one day the team would come home and you wouldn’t be there.

It’s why he sat, waiting by the door for you and the team to return from your mission of the day. You’d texted him when you’d all gotten on the jet home, reassuring him you were all fine and giving him and ETA. It was lonely in the Watchtower, although he did find ways to entertain himself. Still, he often found himself seated in his chair in the common room, twiddling his thumbs as he awaited you all. It was kind of sad, he knew. Still, he wouldn’t trade anything for seeing the way your face lit up when you saw him waiting, and the relief he felt when you walked in.

The elevator dinged, opening to reveal the six of you, everyone looking tired and beat from a long day. Bob’s eyes immediately searched for you, finally seeing you step out last, an arm around Bucky as he held you up. You hobbled in, not putting pressure on your left leg, where he saw a red splotch on your gear, clearly blood.

“What happened?” he quickly moved to you, Bucky automatically shifting to let Bob hold you up. You winced a bit at the transition, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s shoulders.

“It’s fine, it’s just a little cut-”

“She got stabbed.” Bucky announced as he began pulling off his holsters.

“You got stabbed?!” Bob repeated, eyes going wide as he looked down at the wound.

“Look, Bob, I’m okay, it’s just a minor stab wound-”

“There’s no such thing as a minor stab wound!” he exclaims, sighing as he kneels down to look at your calf. Sure enough, the blood looks dried but there is a gash in your gear, and he can see the stitches someone had given you on the ride home. “Who stitched you up?”

“Me!” Walker calls as he unclips his helmet. “Did pretty good for a mid-combat wound.”

You scoff. “Debatable.”

“Thanks, Walker.” Bob talks over you as he stands. “You are going to rest now.”

“Bob, I’m fine-”

“Nope!” He wrapped an arm beneath your knees, lifting you with ease as he carried you to your room. You forget how strong he is sometimes- how the Sentry Project changed him. He’s always wearing baggy crewnecks and long sleeves that hide the physique it gave him, the muscle. He’s a little embarrassed of it, honestly. He doesn’t feel like he earned it. Then again, he doesn't feel like he earned any of this- these friends, living in the tower, you.

You give up on fighting as Bob kicks your door open, putting you down softly on your bed. “Thanks.” you mutter as you scoot upwards to lay on your pillows, wincing at the sharp pain in your leg. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well I am worried!” he laid down next to you, gently putting a hand to your cheek. “I always worry. Every Time you guys go out there, I-I’m terrified something’s going to happen to you.”

You put your hand over his, a guilty look on your face. “Bob, I…” you trail off, staring at the ceiling. “I just don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Bob’s quiet for a moment, processing your words. “A burden?”

You nod, peering over at him. His face is confused, brow furrowed as if you’ve said that the sky is green and grass is blue. “You could never be a burden to me.”

“I know, I know, I just-”

“No. You are not a burden.” he silences you with a soft kiss, cupping your face gently. “You are everything.”

You smile up at him, kissing him back once more. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“It’s okay.” he punctuates his words with another kiss. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around him, the two of you laying still, just basking each other’s presence for the moment.

“A burden…” Bob mumbles into your neck. “You’re the best thing in my shitty fucking life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” he lifts his head, looking you in the eyes, dead serious. “Before you, it was like… everything was just so far away, just things happening to me. Now, it’s so much more…” he searches for the right word. “Real. Like I had something to keep going for. And something I could lose.”

You just look up at him, seeing the genuine look on his face, the fear primed in his eyes. Bob is no stranger to rejection; even after months together, in the back of his mind he worries every romantic gesture could be the wrong thing.

But instead of yelling at him, pushing him away, you just smile at him, run a hand through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? Not if I can help it.” you press a kiss to his cheek. “And I’ll be more careful from now on. I promise. I’ll always come home to you.”

Bob smiles softly, yet hesitantly, like there’s still something left on his mind. “Okay?” you ask, both a question of understanding and of his current mental state.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, I just…” his eyes flit around nervously, before landing on your face again. “I love you.”

It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, although he’s known it for a long time. He’s known since the first time you kissed, but he was too terrified of scaring you off to ever say it. So he held back, till now.

“I love you too.” you smile, chuckling a little as you see the joy light up Bob’s face. “I love you, Bob.”

“Really?” he grins, still unsure if this is real. You just nod, and then he’s pulling you into him, kissing you again, this time intense, with all the feeling and honesty he’s held back till now. His hands run down to your waist, pulling you close to him till your bodies are flush against each other.

When he finally pulls away, you see his brown eyes darkened with lust, glancing back down to your lips as if he can’t get enough.

“I want you.” He whispers, shifting himself so he’s atop you.

“You’ve got me.” you pull him in for another kiss, before he’s sitting back up and yanking at your tactical pants.

When it comes to sex, Bob is always eager to please. You make an effort to take care of him just as much as he does for you, but he insists he takes just as much pleasure in your ecstasy as he does his.

Now he’s swiftly pulling your pants down, taking your underwear with them as he tosses them off somewhere in your room. He runs a thumb along your wound, assessing how bad it is.

“I’m okay.” you breathe out. “Wasn’t deep. Please, Bob.”

He takes his place laying between your thighs, gently propping your legs onto his shoulders. His eyes take in your already soaked folds, his mouth hanging open, salivating at the sight.

“You sure?” he checks once more, glancing over at your cut. You nod fervently.

“Yes, please, Bob, God-”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s pressing kisses into your thighs, moving quickly to lick a stripe up your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, his tongue sending shockwaves through your body.

Prior to meeting you, Bob had had a few relationships, mostly short, sexual based things. He wasn’t an expert on eating pussy, but the first time he got between your legs, it was like he’d found God in there. 

He lapped at your pussy fervently, like it was his last meal. Bob Reynolds was nothing if not a pleaser, and after a few months, he had learned what worked. For instance, he knew that if he flicked his tongue against your clit as he did now, you would release a choked out gasp, fingers gripping his hair like a lifeline, which is exactly what you did.

He groans against you, the vibrations sending heat through the growing knot in your stomach. You writhed against him, his large palms holding you down against the mattress. God, you loved it when he showed his strength.

“God, yes, Bob, just like that, fuck-” you moaned out praise as he continued to delve into you, switching between lavishing your folds and sucking at your clit. His hips stuttered against the mattress as he desperately sought friction, growing impossibly harder by the second at your cries. “I love you, love you so much.”

The words go straight to his cock, his hips slamming against the mattress even harder as he groans into you. One of your favorite things about Bob; he is vocal during sex. The dirty things that came out of his mouth the first time you gave him a blowjob are still etched into your mind.

But now, you feel the coil in your stomach tightening, threatening to come undone. “Bob, Bob I’m close, baby, fuck…” you grip his hair with both hands, gridning your hips into his face as best you can while he holds you down. He stares up at you, his big brown eyes taking in every gasp, every moan that comes out of you. He moves up, sucking on your clit so hard you see stars as you finally cum, crying out his name as you do.

He doesn’t slow down, continuing to lap at you as you ride out your orgasm. You gasp as you come down from your high, his mouth finally slowing and smiling up at you, covered in your slick.

“You’re so pretty like this.” you pant out. “Me all over your mouth.”

He grins shyly, but with pride in his actions. “You liked it?”

“Yes I liked it, Bob.” you laugh as you pull him up to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him. You reach down to his groin, feeling a wet spot there. “Baby, did you-”

“Uh, yeah.” he mumbles, cheeks growing red. “I like seeing you like that.”

You just smile, kissing him once again. “That’s hot.” you murmur into his lips.

He hums against you, kissing you hungrily. He rolls his hips against yours, and your breath catches as you can feel him already getting hard again. 

You're in for a long night.

a/n: Bob my Shayla. Oh my Shayla. I hope I did him justice with this. Ain't much, but it's honest work.

[venusbyline]

Aegon teaching his little sister all sorts of new positions… At first he’s content with eating her out, taking her in missionary or teaching her how to properly suck him off. But then he wants more. He’ll take her from behind, he’ll make her ride him, they’ll do 69. He just cannot resist his sweet little sister 🤭🥰

⚠️: SMUT CONTENT. female!reader, Targcest (older brother/younger sister), corruption kink, loss of virginity, underage sex (no specific mention of reader's age tho), oral sex (female receiving & male receiving), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, blood licking, period sex, missionary position, blowjob, handjob, doggy style position, cowgirl position, 69 position, praise kink, kinda dubcon in the beginning BUT NOT REALLY.

Aegon is practically the master of corruption kink. He has become addicted to teaching all sexual things to his little sister ever since Alicent and Viserys announced the betrothal between the two of you.

He started by eating you out. You were feeling pain after your first moon blood, and he convinced you that the best way to ease it was with his tongue. At first, you denied the idea, not wanting to disappoint your mother, who had made it clear that the Seven did not give blessings to marriages if the couples had any kind of sexual intimacy before the official ceremony. However... When the pain continued for a few more hours and nothing went away... What else could you do, after all?

Then you let Aegon lift your nightgown, admiring the sight of your pretty little cunt covered in sticky blood. It was a sight from heaven. Your brother did not even care about the "disgusting" situation, he wanted to taste you immediately, trying to keep his promise about not lifting your nightgown any higher and also about not sticking his fingers inside your virgin hole.

"Seven Hells, little sister, you are so fucking gorgeous..." Aegon groaned against your cunt, his mouth sucking on your clit and licking the blood stains, making you whine and see stars, forgetting completely about the previous soreness, your body trembling when Aegon fucked a finger inside without any warning or real consent. "My apologies, sweet girl. But I cannot contain myself... You are so... Fuck... You are so fucking hot." He fumbled for the words, ignoring your pained facial expression and fucking his finger faster, his tongue still focused on eating you out like a starving man.

It did not take so long for Aegon to take your maidenhead. He even tried to limit himself to eating you out many times a week, but two moons later and he was already desperate to fuck his cock inside your tight core for the first time. You knew you should save yourself until marriage, he should not ruin you before the right time... But the offer seemed so tempting, and Aegon was not open to arguments either way.

You were lying on his bed, legs spread, eyes wide and full of tears as he thrust in and out of you. The sight of your little cunt stretching to fit him there was something heavenly to Aegon's mind. The feeling of finally being able to fuck his younger sister...

"I-It hurts, Aeg..." You whimpered the childhood nickname, tensing under his body. Each thrust caused more tears to run down your cheeks, your hole barely having time to adjust to that unknown intrusion.

"Shshsh..." Aegon's heavy hand covered your mouth to prevent the loud moans from drawing the attention of the guards patrolling the Red Keep. Even if he wished to hear your sweet tearful sounds, being caught fucking his innocent sister before their wedding would mean getting a long, annoying lecture from Alicent and probably his grandfather Otto as well. "It is almost over, sweet girl. Just hold on a little longer, alright?"

The first time Aegon taught you how to give him a head was also during the night he took your maidenhead. Your legs felt like jelly and you were a whining mess, too tired to want to do anything else, but also too tired to argue against your brother's wishes. After all, you had already cum around his cock, so it was quite fair that you pleasure him too, right?

At first, Aegon only wanted to cum inside your mouth because he could not cum inside and breed you yet. Even though he could have just pulled out of you and ordered you to stick tongue out and swallow his release, Aegon found it more interesting and exciting to control his own orgasm and pull you to your knees on the floor. It was a bit of a cruel act, given your aching body and confused mental state, but you did not complain. Perhaps because you were too exhausted to dare to object to the situation, or perhaps because deep down you liked the feeling of being corrupted by your older brother.

"Good girl... Learning how to suck my cock like a real whore." Aegon growled a moan after a few minutes teaching you how to do it right in your post-climax haze. His hand was grabbing your hair and his hips moved as the pleasure approached, forcing your head back and forth so he could dictate the speed needed.

At one point, Aegon wanted to teach you more. He really liked it when you learned something new. He liked seeing how excited you got when he was teaching you different positions, your innocence still hovering between the two of you with each new experience. Also... the jealousy on your cute pretty face when you realized your brother had learned all of those things with random whores always made him smirk.

You were lying with your breasts pressed against the mattress and your back arched so that your ass was up in the air just the way Aegon needed it. The thrusts turned deeper, your brother moving so hard and rough, fucking you like a hound, your ass bouncing and the sound of skin on skin echoing through the chambers.

"What a greedy slut, holy shit..." Aegon growled, hitting your ass cheek with a hard, stinging slap. "Your cunt feels even tighter in this position, little sister." Your brother's chuckled, making you shiver and let out more pathetic moans, especially when he grabbed your hair to pull you, forcing your back to be pressed against his chest while he fucked you, his free hand now squeezing the soft flesh of one of your breasts.

Teaching you how to ride him was complicated at first. You did not know exactly what to do, and the confusion mixed with the accumulated lust always turned you into a whining mess. You were still a needy little thing, a people pleaser, desperate to do everything your older brother demanded. Desperate to be his good girl.

Despite your lack of experience, Aegon took great pains to mold you the way he desired. He placed hands on your hips, preferring you to bounce up and down on top of him rather than just grind around his cock. Having your breasts bouncing so close to Aegon's face with each movement was like a heaven. "That is it, little sister... You are doing so well, riding me like this, like a trained little whore."

"Y-Yours..." You added with a cute frown of concentration, your pretty mouth half open and cheeks flushed as the orgasm was coming closer.

Aegon chuckled, nodding then. "Yeah, sweet girl. You are my little whore. The best of all of them." He purred before grabbing your ass, his tongue circling the peaky nipple that was almost rubbing against his lips during your ride.

Something Aegon wanted to try was to pleasure you while you pleasured him. Aegon had learned about that years before, at the beginning of his sexual life, when he was still just a little boy who had to beg Ser Criston Cole not to tell Alicent about his firstborn son's escapes to the Street of Silk's brothels, a secret that obviously was not kept secret for very long. But now... Now Aegon could teach you, his little sister, his future wife...

Aegon guided you until your body was lying on top of his, your cunt soaked and dripping on his face as he ate you out, his tongue licking your folds, flicking your pearl with the its tip and feeling your warm throat engulfing him so deep, the sounds of gagging hanging from your lips arousing him more and more.

“You taste so good…” He kissed your swollen clit, eyes widening and pupils dilating when you bounced your ass on his face, wanting to rub your wet core all over him. “Gods, you are turning into such a dirty little slut.” Aegon smirked, and you pulled his big thick cock out of mouth so you could look back at him, a shy smile on your reddened lips and your palm continuing to caress his entire shaft.

[lovesickchoi]

📁 FILE 04: KANG TAEHYUN

⋆·˚ ༘ * He fixes, he folds, and he fucks like he’s determined to show you just how much he cares. You want nothing more than to return the favor, be the one who takes care of him for once. But Taehyun can't imagine not being of service to you.

✦ Love Language: Acts of Service

pairing: taehyun x reader ✮⋆˙✐ 3.3k

warnings: f!reader, smut, domestic tension, switch but mostly dom!taehyun, kitchen sex, service kink, oral f!receiving, no protection

🗂️ click here to access all txt member’s files

˚₊ · »-♡→ main masterlist

Taehyun never said I love you like a normal person.

He said it through tasks, timing, and attention. Always quietly folding the world around you so you never had to ask for anything. And you’d let him.

Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d lifted a finger in his presence. You were independent when you met him—fiercely so. The kind of person who didn’t trust anyone to do things as well as you could, let alone take care of you. But Taehyun had a way of gently dismantling those walls, brick by quiet brick, until your hands were empty and your burdens shared.

There were meals cooked after long days where you both came home tired and frayed, only he wouldn’t let you touch the stove. Instead, he’d kiss your forehead and force you to sit pretty on the counter so he had a nice view while he worked. And when you were done eating? You wouldn’t dare attempt to help clean up. Not unless you wanted your hands swatted away and Taehyun sprinting upstairs to run you a bath, insisting you “go soak and relax, baby, I’ll join you soon.”

You’d never forget coming home from that terrible day, still raw from an argument with your best friend, and finding the apartment spotless, your clothes folded neatly on the bed, and a bottle of wine breathing on the counter beside your favorite takeout. No questions asked.

You couldn’t even recall the last time you carried your own purse. Traveling? He always found a way to juggle both suitcases without complaint, leaving your hands completely free.

And it wasn’t just the grand gestures. It was in the subtleties. The way his eyes always flicked toward you, searching for anything you might need. How he’d bring you water without being asked. Fix a squeaky cabinet at one in the morning because it annoyed you once. Rearranged his already busy schedule for yours, because stress on your shoulders was unbearable to him.

Not to mention in bed. God, the pillow princess he’d turned you into. Taehyun was as eager to please as he was allergic to being on the receiving end. The concept of letting you take care of him was laughable, sacrilegious, even. He never let you, not once. As if your love was something he didn’t need to feel. Only something he was born to give.

He never asked or expected. He only gave, and gave, and gave. But tonight, you decided to try anyway.

There he was now, creeping into the kitchen to make you a snack because he’d heard your stomach rumble while the two of you curled up in bed mid-movie. When you reached for him, questioning why he paused the TV, he only smiled softly, kissed your temple, and slipped out from under the covers.

For a moment, you lay in the dark listening: the clinking of metal, the click of the stove, the crinkle of packaging. Soon, the savory scent of your favorite instant ramen drifted down the hallway. It pulled you from bed like a thread tied to your chest. And the moment you step into the kitchen, your heart nearly stops.

He’s shirtless, facing away from you as he stirs the pot. The warm overhead light carves golden lines down his back. His shoulder blades shifting with every movement. Sweatpants hang low on his narrow hips, the waistband tugging slightly down on one side. He’s completely unaware of how devastating he looks, and that only makes it worse.

You swallow, mouth watering—and not just because of the ramen.

A few more steps forward and you're wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. Taehyun jumps, slightly startled, then relaxes into your touch with a smile. He sets the chopsticks aside and folds his arms over yours in a welcoming gesture.

"Hi baby," he hums with contentment.

"Hi," you smile into his skin, cheek pressed to the expanse of his back. "Smells good." A soft sigh leaves your lips, warm breath brushing his bare shoulder.

Goosebumps rise across his skin. He can feel the shape of you—your nipples faintly brushing through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, your hips pressing gently to his. He knows without looking that you’re wearing nothing underneath but panties.

Still, he doesn’t move. He lets you hold him. But you? You’re already planning to do more than hold.

Your arms tighten, lips beginning to brush his back. You feel the tremor that runs through him, the tension pooling just beneath his skin. And still, he doesn’t pull away.

You trail your fingers along the firm plane of his stomach carefully, until your palms rest flat over the waistband of his sweats. You don’t dip beneath just yet, instead holding him there like he’s yours to touch.

He draws a controlled breath through his nose. “Baby…” he warns gently, voice catching in his throat.

“I know,” you whisper. “Just... let me.”

You turn him around by the hips, and Taehyun allows it, chest rising now with more visible effort. He leans back slightly against the counter perpendicular to the stove, arms going loose at his sides like he’s trying to prove something to himself and to you. But his eyes are already dark, focused on your mouth intently.

You press a kiss to his sternum. He gulps hard. Another kiss to the edge of his collarbone. And then, finally, you tilt your face up and catch his mouth with yours.

It starts sweet, nothing but melted sugar and warmth. His lips move slowly, savoring the feeling as he holds himself back.

But then your hands slip to the sides of his neck, pulling him deeper, angling his head how you want him. Your tongue drags against his with hot need. You kiss like you’ve forgotten what patience even means.

Taehyun moans softly against your lips, involuntarily. You feel his knees bend slightly, as if his whole body wants to follow yours.

You pull back, just enough to murmur, “Sit for me.”

Before he can question it, you gently push him toward the chair at the kitchen table.

He stumbles back a step and halts. His brows twitch with uncertainty. You watch the flicker in his expression: a flash of confusion and resistance. He’s never been the one sitting like this. He doesn’t really know how.

But you step forward, crowding him slowly, guiding him with your hands on his waist like you’re offering him something for once instead of taking. The backs of his legs hit the chair.

You don’t force him down, you just press lightly. He lets out a breath and finally sits.

For a second, Taehyun looks bewitched by you in the most gorgeous way. Hair tousled, chest rising and falling too fast, mouth pink and kiss-bitten. His hands clutch the edge of the seat like it’s anchoring him to the earth. Because he really might float away if he doesn’t hold on.

You climb into his lap with reverence, legs folding around him, your hands smoothing over his shoulders. His skin is flushed. His cock presses hard against you through the thin fabric of his sweats, and the friction alone has him sighing like he’s seconds from losing composure.

You kiss him again, filthier this time. Your hips roll forward, just enough to force a strangled noise from him.

“Let me take care of you for once,” you whisper into his mouth.

Your hand snakes its way down Taehyun’s abdomen. He’s so tense it’s almost laughable. He’s fighting within himself, wanting so bad to give in. But it felt unnatural.

“Baby… you don’t have to.”

His eyes are wired shut when he speaks. You don’t even grace him with a response. He sits there, feeling useless, feeling you place your lips in all the right places across his neck and jaw, fingers finding their way to cutely snake into his sweatpants.

But all he can think about is how you’re probably soaked under those panties. How you must be clenching around nothing, begging to be touched. You must want to be cared for, and oh how he wanted it to be him doing it. Suddenly, he can’t get the idea of you whining and cumming at his manipulation out of his mind.

That’s when the panic sets it.

Taehyun huffs, a sharp and frustrated sound that floods your ears, before gripping your waist so suddenly it makes you yelp. His eyes snap open, blown wide with want. So much want it nearly breaks you.

“I can’t,” he says hoarsely. “You don’t get it—I can’t.”

He lifts you with too much ease, standing abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Your legs tighten around him out of instinct. He presses your back to the kitchen table, firm but not rough, breathing hard. His forehead falls against yours.

“I’ll lose my mind if I don’t touch you the way I need to.” His voice is a growl now, trembling with restraint. “You don’t get to make me feel good and expect me to just sit here. That’s not how this works. That’s never been how this works.”

You see it all over him—how badly he wants the pleasure you’re offering, and how violently it clashes with the way he’s wired to love. It’s sexy, yes, but it’s also so deeply revealing you feel it split something open inside you. It's not that he doesn't want it. It's that he simply can't compute it.

His hands roam. One cups your jaw, the other sliding beneath your thighs. He’s already rolling his hips into you, chasing friction like it’s air.

“You’re not supposed to take care of me,” he hisses against your neck. “That’s not—what I’m made for.”

You gasp as his mouth finds the edge of your collarbone, biting gently. His grip on your waist tightens, and just like that, the control is back in his hands.

He rises slightly, pushing your shirt up over your chest to see all of you. Nipples flushed pink and hard with need, black underwear that he picked out already soaked and hugging the outline of your folds. He stares unashamedly like he always does. His hands are rough, tracing you from your ribs to your thighs as if reacquainting himself with your body.

"If I stop giving... and I let you give, it’s like I’ve failed you," he mutters, eyes glazed over with lustful thoughts of you.

While he's too busy eye-fucking you, you take your chance. You sit up slightly, just enough to reach for his cheek, grazing it softly.

“You haven’t failed anything. You love me so well. Let me love you back.” You attempt to bargain.

You rise further, closing the gap between you with a slow kiss, your legs looping around his waist to tug him closer, ankles locked. But he catches your wrist mid-motion, grinning softly, already seeing through your plan. Of course you’d try to flip the script.

But he can't take it anymore, not with your bodies this close. The food sizzles on the stove, but he doesn't care. His desire to serve takes over.

He scoops your thighs into his arms and drags you to the edge of the table, then drops to his knees. Your legs fall open over his shoulders. A breathy moan slips from his lips as he drinks in the new view—now eye level with your dripping cunt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I need to. Please—just let me.”

Your soaked panties cling to you obscenely, a clear outline of want pressed against black lace. He hums low in his chest, the sound nearly guttural.

Taehyun presses a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, this one open-mouthed and wet, teeth grazing just enough to make you mewl. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs to anchor himself.

He moans just from the scent of you. “Fuck." His voice is muffled, lost in the heat between your legs. “So wet.”

“Oh my god-“ You gasp as his tongue presses flat against the soaked crotch of your panties. Taehyun doesn't bother pulling them aside. No, that would be too simple. He’s decided you’re getting ruined like this: his mouth taking you through the fabric, letting every flick of his tongue sink through cotton and lace to where you need him most, and it works.

Your hips are arching up into him. But he’s relentless, hands sliding up to hold you still, palms splayed across your chest.

“Stay still,” his voice vibrated against you. “Let me do this right.”

He licks you long and slow, savoring the way your arousal has soaked through and made the panties cling to you like a second skin. Every pass of his tongue has your thighs trembling, your hands reaching blindly for something to hold.

You fist his hair. Taehyun groans—really groans—like your fingers pulling at his scalp could make him cum untouched. He presses his face deeper between your legs, nuzzling the soaked fabric as if inhaling you could give him life.

His tongue finds your clit. Even through the damp cotton, it sends a bolt of pleasure tearing through your spine. Your back arches and a cry escapes you. He hums again, pleased, adjusting the angle so he can suck gently, just enough pressure to make your vision blur.

“That’s it, baby,” he inhales deeply. “Give it to me. Let me have all of it.” He exhales just as deeply.

You don’t know if he’s talking about your moans, your pussy, your entire fucking soul, but you let him have it. Maybe this was your way of giving to him.

Taehyun keeps eating, savoring, and drinking you in through the delicate fabric until it's useless and he’s so hard in his sweatpants he could cry. One of his hands leaves your hip to slip between his legs, palming himself through the fabric just for a second, just enough to breathe again.

Then his mouth drags lower, tongue teasing the spot just beneath your entrance through the sheer fabric before returning to your clit. You're writhing now, moaning like a confession, your thighs trying to close in around his head but he won’t let them.

“You're almost there, aren't you?” His voice is noticeably ruined. “Cum for me. I want to feel you shake on my tongue.”

He licks harder, and you shatter.

Your orgasm hits like a wave. Crashing and sweeping through your entire body until your hands fall from his hair and you’re barely able to breathe, whimpering his name over and over.

Still, he doesn’t stop, not until your hips twitch from overstimulation and your whines turn into helpless little pleas for him to end it. Only then does he pull back, panting, chin glistening, and your panties practically glued to you.

He looks up at you like he’s blessed. This is the only thing he’s ever prayed to.

“Better?” he asks, voice hoarse, lips curled into the faintest, self-satisfied smirk.

You're so busy coming down from your orgasm, about to respond, that you don’t even realize he’s stripped you. Your soaked panties gone along with his boxers and sweatpants, discarded somewhere on the kitchen table.

When you glance down, he’s already between your thighs again, his cock hard against your leg. You’re still catching your breath, body trembling from your orgasm, but his hands are already moving.

He lifts one leg, then the other, hooking the backs of your knees over the crooks of his elbows like he's done plenty of times before. His chest brushes yours, folding you in half on the table, breath warm against your skin as he lines himself up.

“Let me give you more,” he murmurs, every syllable soaking with need. “Let me stay inside you until you forget your own name.”

Then he’s pushing in devastatingly deep. Your breath stutters, your head tilting back as he sinks you down onto him inch by inch. His grip tightens around your thighs, holding you to him while your body opens for him completely.

You can feel every inch of Taehyun. But it’s not just the fullness that makes you a whimpering mess, it’s the way he’s holding you there, pinned to the surface.

“Fuck,” Taehyun exhales, eyes fluttering shut. “You feel—Jesus.”

Your hands reach to grip his neck as he starts to move. Each thrust is so expertly precise. The slow drag out, the firmer press in. His rhythm is just right, but his breath is ragged. You cling to the edge of the table and to him, legs still lifted, knees trembling slightly where they’re slung over his arms.

Taehyun's hands grip your body in a way they've never held you before. And he groans every time he bottoms out inside you.

The kitchen is filled with the slick, inappropriate sound of him moving inside you. The quiet hiss of the stove behind you both now forgotten, noodles cooking past perfect. The smell of ramen and sex drifts through the air.

“Taehyun!” you gasp, head tipping back. This is his favorite view of you.

“Yeah?” he pants, not stopping once. “Say it again.”

You do. Over and over. Not just his name, but everything. What he feels like, how he fucks you, how he makes you feel like no one else ever has. You don’t know what you’re saying anymore. Only that it pours out of you in moans and broken whines.

You feel it building again, this time too fast and way too strong. Your body tenses around him.

He must feel it too, because he drops your legs from his elbows and folds you close, hips never faltering as he hooks his arms around your waist and lifts you clean off the table. You gasp in surprise, clutching his shoulders.

Now it’s chest to chest, his forehead against yours, your legs wrapped tight around his hips. Your nails score his back as he fucks you suspended in the air.

“Come on, baby,” he pleads, voice cracked as he slams you down onto his cock. “Give it to me one more time.”

You shatter for the second time in your little kitchen. This one rips through you harder than before. You cry out, whole body shaking and convulsing around him, just the way he likes.

“Fuckfuckfuck—fuck,” he hisses, every muscle in his body going rigid as he drives into you one last time and cums harder than ever. His hips falter, then still as he pushes in as deep as possible, moaning into your mouth as he buries himself to the hilt.

Silence slowly follows. Beautiful, comfortable silence.

Taehyun doesn’t pull out of you right away. He lowers both of you down slowly, your back landing softly against the now-cleared table. His cheek rests against your thigh, damp with sweat, lips parted as he catches his breath. His arms are still around your waist. You brush a hand through his hair, looking down at him.

“One day, I’ll make you let me take care of you.” You can't help but smile.

He half-laughs and murmurs back, “I'll die trying to stop you.”

You feel the slight ache in his words. Because behind them, you worry Taehyun thinks he’s unworthy of being taken care of by you. That’s the part that guts you.

You sit up just slightly, shifting your weight until you're able to reach the stove. The ramen is still there, now slightly burnt at the edges, thick with overcooked noodles. Laughing quietly, you dish some into a bowl, scooping a bite with your chopsticks and blowing to cool it down. When you turn back and offer it to him, he almost hesitates.

But eventually Taehyun lets you. He opens his mouth, and you feed him. He chews, swallows, then drops his forehead into your neck with a sigh so deep as he relaxes into your warmth.

This is the kind of peace he’s never allowed himself. But tonight, just for a moment, he does for you.

tags: @bunnysoonie @zznblr @another-lemon-tree @gyudollies @beomgyusluver @dawngyu @boba-beom @taebatu @simpforseoho @beestvng @yyeonbinn @chubichubs @jooyeonsvape @txt-thelmi @zorange13 @jellyyjn @frenziedpiratetrap @gardnhee @txtsdoll @annovaz @morguebounddoll @melmochii @yunhorights @saccharinezennie @gyutaepie @313hwa @tyuncloudreamy @ijustwannareadstuff20 @bamtor1sss @iyoonjh

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated <3

[lovesuhng]

stranger + kiss cam = ?

fluff, strangers to ? / w.c: 1k / sorry if here’s any mistakes

If regret could kill, you would definitely be dead.

At this moment, you found yourself in a stadium full of strangers, understanding absolutely nothing about a baseball game happening right in front of you,just because you agreed to go on a date with an annoying guy you had matched with on Tinder.

Your conversations on the app had been nice. He seemed like the kind of guy you would get along with really well. It was your first date with him and you had even bought a Chicago Cubs shirt to impress. But when you got there, you found out he had invited some friends and was treating you like trash. If you asked him something, he would reply with an impatient tone. If he went to buy a drink, he wouldn’t offer you one. And the worst part? He made a joke about you just to seem funny in front of his friends.

You thought about going home, but the game had just started and you figured you might still have a good time. However, your face said otherwise.

"You don’t seem to like baseball very much, do you?" A deep voice startled you, grabbing your attention. You were about to say something but found yourself a bit mesmerized by the man standing beside you. He was also wearing a Chicago Cubs shirt, along with a team cap. He was tall, had piercing honey-colored eyes and a charming smile that could win over everyone in that stadium.

"Hello? Anyone there?" he said playfully, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Oh, hi?"

The man chuckled softly, as if he had noticed how lost you were. "You don’t exactly look thrilled for someone in the middle of one of the most important games of the season."

"The problem isn’t the game." You pointed toward the guy on your left, who seemed to have completely forgotten about you.

"Let me guess: boyfriend?"

You quickly shook your head. "First and last date. I don’t know much about baseball, but since I’m here, I should try to have some fun, right?"

"Then I’ll make sure you have fun here."

"But you don’t even know me…" you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at the handsome stranger.

That’s when he extended his hand, flashing another one of those breathtaking smiles that made you momentarily forget how to breathe.

"Johnny."

You hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand and introducing yourself.

"There, now we know each other."

Watching the game with a stranger—who you now knew by name—wasn’t in your plans, but it turned out to be much better than you expected.

Johnny was fun and explained things whenever you looked confused. You worried about bothering him, but he kept insisting he was enjoying your company. During a break, he even bought hot dogs and beer, asking if you wanted anything—unlike your so-called date, who had completely forgotten you existed.

You two had small conversations, Johnny made jokes that were actually funny (and not awkward) and you even took pictures of him—some of them featuring Johnny pulling silly faces while eating his hot dog, making you laugh at the whole situation.

During a pause at the game, the famous kiss cam started.

You laughed at the exaggerated ways some couples kissed, while Johnny whistled and clapped.

Suddenly, the camera landed on the two of you.

It took a moment for both of you to realize that your faces were now on the giant screens of the stadium. The person beside Johnny gave him a little nudge, encouraging him to kiss you.

You heard your date mumble something—he had finally remembered your existence—but your eyes were locked onto the man beside you. Johnny was looking at you too, silently asking for permission.

Nodding your head, you gave it.

The moment your lips met, his hands cupped your cheeks while one of his large hands rested on your nape, pulling you closer.

The crowd's cheers faded into the background. For a few seconds, you both forgot you were being watched by thousands of people.

His touch was gentle, making you crave more. When Johnny’s tongue touched yours, you felt like you could float right then and there.

The only thing that made you pull away was the lack of air—your image had disappeared from the big screen long ago.

You were about to say something to Johnny when your date demanded an explanation. Johnny seemed ready to respond, but you stopped him, a small smile on your lips that silently said, I got this.

“I’ll explain everything. You acted like a jerk, treated me like trash, ignored me completely to hang out with your friends and now you want an explanation? You deserve nothing more than to be dumped, you pathetic piece of shit. Now, excuse me, I’m going to spend time with a real man—not a piece of garbage like you."

Your date looked stunned by your words, ready to fight with you, but his friends quickly pulled him away, preventing any further drama.Johnny grinned at you, clearly impressed. "Do you always put bullies in their place like that?"

"That guy? A bully?" you laughed. "I think we should forget about him and focus on the game, don’t you?"

The game ended. Chicago Cubs lost to Dodgers.

Johnny offered you a ride home and you accepted. Once you reached your building, you turned to the man who had completely turned your day around.

“My mom always told me not to talk to strangers, but that was the best thing I did today. Thanks for saving me."

Johnny chuckled, taking your hand in his. "If you really want to thank me, let me take you on a real date."

"Hmmm." You pretended to think for a moment. "How about this? You give me your number, we talk a bit more and then we figure out our first date. Sound good?"

"Sounds good, but…" Johnny kept stroking your hand, leaning in slightly. His voice turned deeper, making you shiver.

"Do I have to wait until our first date to get another kiss like that one?"

"Of course not." And for the second time that day, you kissed. This time, it was slower, as if you were both exploring every little part of each other, savoring every second of it.

Who would’ve thought that a date that started so badly would end in the best way possible?

[sturn777]

FRATBOY!CHRIS SEES YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME.

CHRIS ISN'T USED TO BEING SPEECHLESS. but when you walk into the frat house, dressed to kill, heels clicking against the floor like you own the place—he damn near forgets how to breathe.

you don’t even spare him a glance, too busy fixing your lip gloss in the reflection of your phone camera, looking wholly unimpressed with the sea of drunk, sloppy guys around you.

“who’s that?” chris mutters to matt, eyes locked on you as you make your way to the bar, your dress hugging every curve just right.

“don’t even try,” matt snorts, clapping him on the shoulder. “she’d eat you alive.”

chris ignores him, already making his way over. because if there’s one thing he loves, it’s a challenge.

and you? you look like the type of girl who makes men beg.

he slides in beside you, resting an elbow on the bar, flashing that cocky grin that gets him out of trouble more often than not. “you look lost, sweetheart.”

your gaze flicks to him, bored and unimpressed. “do i?”

his smirk falters for a split second. he’s used to girls eating up the frat boy charm, melting at the attention of chris sturniolo, but you don’t even bat an eye.

“yeah,” he recovers quickly, leaning in just enough to get a whiff of whatever expensive perfume you’re wearing. “but lucky for you, i know my way around.”

“oh, how kind,” you deadpan, giving him a slow once over. “lemme guess. you’re gonna offer me a drink, then spend the whole night trying to get in my pants?”

chris blinks. “i mean—”

“because if that’s the plan, just save us both the trouble and go bother some other girl instead.”

jesus christ.

he should walk away.

he should.

but instead, he just grins, because if anything, you’ve just made him more interested.

“you think i’m that predictable, huh?” he muses, tilting his head as he watches you sip your drink, lips glossy and shining under the dim lights.

you arch a perfect brow. “i think you’re like every other frat boy in here. same cologne, same cocky attitude, same—” your gaze flicks down, lips twitching “silver chain.”

“you’re brutal.”

“i’m honest.”

chris laughs, shaking his head. “alright, darlin'. what does a guy have to do to impress you, then?”

you tilt your head, pretending to think it over. “hmm… not be a frat boy for starters.”

he places a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “ouch.”

you roll your eyes. “seriously? you’re actually still here?”

“yep,” he grins, popping the ‘p.’

you exhale through your nose, setting your drink down with a little too much force. “you just love annoying girls, don’t you?”

“only the ones who look this good when they’re pissed off,” he quips, eyes flickering down to where your dress hugs your waist.

you suck in a sharp breath, and for the first time all night, chris sees something in your expression other than thinly veiled irritation.

intrigue.

“cute,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“so, what’s your deal?” he presses, watching you twirl a manicured finger around the rim of your glass. “you show up looking like a fucking dream just to roll your eyes at everyone?”

you smirk. “maybe.”

“so you like the attention.”

“i like watching guys make fools of themselves over me.”

“huh,” he hums, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. “you get off on that, huh? leading guys on, watching them chase you?”

“why? you jealous?”

“nah,” chris says easily, sipping his beer. “just tryna figure out what makes you tick.”

you lean in, eyes flickering down to his lips. “you sure you can handle the answer?”

his grip tightens around his bottle. fuck.

he’s been with cocky girls before. girls who tease, who like the push and pull, the chase.

but you?

you’re something else.

© STURN777

💬 : idk what this is ! what should i do to celebrate 800 followers ?? lmk what u'd like to see in my inbox ++

🏷 : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory ; @matttsangel ; @awnmaneez ; @heartss4clauu ; @mattsstarlet ; @madisturni ; @marrykisskilled ; @inspiredangel ; @mattsdemi ; @sturnioloangell ; @ivyandthebeans ; @amelia-sturniolo3 ; @dominicfikeenthusiast ; @sophand4n4 ; @ch6rm ; @et6rnalsun; @sturniolossss ; @jetaimevous ; @chrissweetheart ; @secretlocket ; @courta13 ; @mattsleftball ; @chrislova ; @etherealval ; @throatgoat4u ; @oopsiedaisydeer ; @dearsoulmate3 )

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Creepy Bunny Hybrid

After a criminal conviction, the claimed hybrid shelter responsible for sourcing most of the beloved species of hybrid is set to shut down

It’s employees pleading with the public to take in their hybrids who’d be otherwise left on the street

Enough for your parents, who you’ve come to live with, to worry

While they were undecided about the morality of owning hybrids

Humanoids with some animal features

They were determined to be helpful 

whether they truly felt such justice or enjoyed the good samaritan role they’d take in a low-maintenance hybrid

A White rabbit with crimson eyes 

In your opinion one of the more beloved species that would’ve found a home somehow but you couldn’t complain

“Welcome Hori! We hope you can find a home with us!”

“Yeah make yourself at home. Don’t mind our kids they’ll be happy to explain anything you need.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Come come I have to show you all the cool things I have!”

Your family takes to him like metals to magnets 

Hovering near him and waiting on him like he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread

But he’s just so incredibly…quiet

Not just because he doesn’t speak unless spoken to 

But because he just doesn’t move

You’ve peaked at him sitting in the living room on a chair with no book, no TV on, windows closed, no music playing

What kind of bunny sits in the dark and does nothing

His large red eyes are huge, his ears incredibly long and upright

Skin  so pale, he could pass as the undead

Hori won’t even eat like other bunny hybrids

When your parents first gushed over his photo too many evenings were spent looking up what a bunny hybrid would need

Vegetables, fruits, bunny-hybrid pellets were what they filled the cabinets and fridge with

But he ate none of that 

Barely nibbling when your brother excitedly presented the spread

“This looks…good.”

Barely a quarter of the plate was gone

Before he claimed he was stuffed

The second your family slipped up though and handed him a plate full of steak 

he left nothing on the plate

“I thought bunnies weren’t omnivores?”

“...Maybe the original animal doesn’t but I am a hybrid. Things are…different.”

“Yeah (Y/n), things are different! Stop bullying Hori!”

It oddly feels like Hori is not all he seems 

Constantly seeking out hotdogs over the fruit you offer

Or spending unusual amounts of time staring at the passing neighbors

Or coming home at unspeakably late hours

But every time you tried to bring this up your family would scorn you

Writing off your observations as you being nitpicky

Or even jealous of the newest member of the family

“Just know (Y/n) you still hold a special place in our hearts.”

“Yeah no need to whine, we won’t forget you.”

“Just don’t take it out on Hori he’s been through so much.”

So you settle to avoid him

Just let him be in his parts of the house and you in yours 

But that doesn’t seem to work with his edition

“(Y/n)...will you accompany me on the grocery run?”

“I thought my older sib was taking you?”

“Originally…but I’d like for you to take me!”

“Uh…”

“Come on (Y/n)! Take this time to bond with Hori! Maybe you’ll find something’s in common between you two.”

It’s annoying that he insists on doing things with you

But it’s just some things

And of course, because he’s so creepily quiet it almost feels like you’re by yourself

It just gets worse

“I want to sleep with you, (Y/n).”

It was way past midnight and Hori was above you 

Caging you between his arms as he practically laid above you 

There was blood around his mouth and if you had the space you’d check over you body for a wound

“W-wh-what?!”

“Hori? (Y/n)? Please?!”

“T-t-that’s not even a real sentence! Please get off me!”

Once he does reluctantly give you space

You flick on a lamp or use your phone’s light to light the room

Hori’s hair is much longer, flowing past his tail 

Which was no longer a small puff ball now bloomed into something larger

His ears were incredibly long and twitching as though it was filled with joints of its own

His teeth seemed like they had no end, just rows and rows of spiny teeth all coated with the gunk and gooey mess of a carnivore’s meal

“All that blood?!”

He licks an abnormally long tongue around his mouth

“The left-of-overs from dinner.”

“Dinner was hours ago!”

“Not your dinner my dinner.”

The implication made your stomach twist

“Uh was it good?”

“Very. Now, sleep with you?”

You hoped he’d forget but if only to get some semblance of control and maybe be able to fall back asleep 

You relent

“Fine, but I’m not going to share my blanket…you’re a lot bigger than before.”

“It's okay those covers are not the heat I am after.”

You decided not to comment on it, wrapping yourself in your comforter

Letting Hori’s much larger limbs wrap around you tightly

This creepy bunny continued to surprise you

You could only hope that you’d figure him out soon 

Or your family might be the one to pay the price

[thetxtdevil]

Hybrid TXT Thoughts

content: nsfw/smut, hybrid, human fem.reader, very vague smut, p in v, no wrap, cuddlefuck, mention of somnophilia, biting/nibbling, pool sex, outdoor sex, kai's scenario mentions mental health, let me know if I'm forgetting anything

average word count: 380 (each member)

the devil's note: thank @fairyofshampgyu for inspiring me :) I did use different animals for the boys because I wanted to be different 😎 I hope you enjoy!!!

Panda!Yeonjun 🐼

Yeonjun is a unique hybrid. It often leaves people guessing what he is as he seems docile but his body is big and broad body makes them think otherwise. It's not until they stop and admire Yeonjun’s smokey eyes, small round black ears hidden in his dark hair, and his cheeks lifting in a happy grin is when they can identify that Yeonjun is a panda hybrid. Panda!Yeonjun is a chill addition to your home most of the time laying around snacking on various foods. He’s so cute when lounging on the sofa you just want to snuggle your big bear, and he will never stop you from doing so. Panda!Yeonjun may be lazy at times but he does put in the effort to show his appreciation towards you. Yeonjun cooks for you and keeps you company. Panda’s are vocal so he wants to hear about your day and talk about everything and anything. Panda!Yeonjun doesn’t like confrontation though, so when he hears you masturbating in your room he doesn’t say anything. He’s too lazy to move and give you privacy, it's not like he would, he actually likes just listening to you, the wet sounds, pathetic whines, and your smell are nice.

However, one day something washes over Panda!Yeonjun and his tired eyes feel more alert. His body is fully awake and he’s not in the mood to just hear you. Continuously walking back and forth in front of your door, it wasn’t until you walked up to him and asked what was wrong is when he lunged at you. Big hands pawing at your body, knocking you into your comfy bed, and just like how Yeonjun is vocal in a normal setting he’s blabbering during sex. Telling you all the dirty things he wants to do to you, “Do you not realize that I can sense that you touch yourself, and how you’d be happier if you asked for my help?” His long dick pushes into your cunt hitting where your fingers couldn’t touch, and he made sure you always had relief when doing it with him. Pandas love to eat so it’s natural that Yeonjun loves to eat you out. He loves making love in the laziest ways, he was so grateful when you taught him that he didn’t have to do the most elaborate things in bed and instead, he can easily spoon you into heaven. Also, somnophilia… preferably him receiving it.

Raccoon!Soobin 🦝

Such a cute not-so-little thing. Raccoon!Soobin stands awkwardly with his ringlet tail swishing behind him as he waits for you to finish your food. You had to convince him to stop feeling like he has to eat your scraps and that he can eat freshly made food. Your heart gushes when you see Soobin’s dark circles surrounding his thankful glimmering eyes. Raccoon!Soobin is very active at night, dark eye bags worsen when he stares at the bright screen of your TV as he plays video games. You had to start inviting your friends over during late afternoons just so they could see your hybrid. You’d giggle every time your friends would gush over Raccoon!Soobin, his little ears standing up and his striped tail standing tail liking the attention of your friends. He's usually sweet and kind however, one game night with your friends he was looking for someone to demolish. Getting into arguments and winning every round simply from his annoying behavior. 

When your friends leave, you turn to your heels wanting to punish Raccoon!Soobin for his behavior, to your surprise he was sweet and cuddly again. Rubbing his head all over you, if you turned your head to somewhere else other than him, he’ll whine. Pouty lips grazing your neck, “Weren’t you impressed by my gaming skills tonight? Did I do good?” His words and the bulge poking at your leg made you realize that his behavior tonight was that he wanted to show off how good of a mate he is. You may be weak for Raccoon!Soobin but you let him have his way eating you out and making sure he has seconds and leftovers. Then showing off his length to stuff into his pretty little owner’s cunt. Little nibbles here and there but scratches a lot. Groans when your leave red trails on his back. Raccoon!Soobin is very curious about your presence in bed so he’ll be at it until dawn and then you’re trapped under his sleeping body.

Otter!Beomgyu 🦦

Such a gentle little creature, so soft so cuddly, content with life. Otter!Beomgyu’s long brown hair permanently has wet tips and the same goes for his sleek tail. If he’s not in your bathtub he’s in the apartment’s community pool. You’re happy when he’s calm and sleepy, Otter!Beomgyu gives the best hugs when sleeping. Always spooning each other, he thrives when he has arms wrapped around him. But of course, he needs to use all of his energy before he can settle. Hand in hand walking to the community pool you arrive to find it mostly empty except for one guy doing laps. Beomgyu is bummed, otters a territorial and this is his territory, the word “community” is not a thing when he’s in there. What really sets him off is when he notices your lingering eyes on the muscular man in the pool. Imagine his big dark eyes full of distraught, pink lips in a big pout, and his little otter ears bending down. Otter!Beomgyu rushes to the edge of the water and dives in begging you to watch him do tricks. He glides through the water practically racing the other guy, you feel yourself getting dizzy watching the hybrid swirl through the pool.

Eventually, Otter!Gyu’s hectic playing made the other guy run for his money, or so Gyu thought. Floating on his back, giggling to himself as he watches the man leave, his attention is right back to you. “Come on, y/n, want you to play with me!” You shake your head, and you tell him he’s been in there for too long but when you get close to the edge the otter’s paw grabs onto you pulling into the pool. You gasp at the sudden sensation, not only by the cold water but by the exploring hands of Beomgyu. Before you know it you’re pushed against the cement wall as Otter!Beomgyu sucks hickeys onto your neck letting everyone know that you’re his. And his cum in the pool will also let everyone know that the place is his… Shower and bathtub sex believer, imagine Gyu lighting candles and surrounding the tub *sigh* so romantic. Otters rub their faces and hair for reasons but Beomgyu’s reason is to turn him on. Carding your fingers through his hair will make him cum so hard.

Squirrel!Taehyun 🐿️

Such a cute hybrid but don’t tell that to his face, Squirrel!Taehyun is a feisty little thing. He might be tiny but he works out to the point that it makes you a little afraid. Watching him at the gym go from one machine to the next in a flash, jumping everywhere wanting to try something new is the most entertaining thing. When Squirrel!Taehyun is not active he likes to follow you around helping you with the most mundane things all the while making cute little noises as a sign of admiration. He is playful in a way that he likes to tickle you with his tail. The first time you got the hybrid you hugged him close and couldn’t stop yourself from giggling from the fluff of his tail. Squirrel!Taehyun doesn’t talk about his feelings much so you use his tail to translate what's on his mind. He also uses the fluff of his tail to his advantage, after an argument he’ll tickle you until you smile, when you’re cold he’ll wrap his tail around you and this gets him closer to you.

Squirrel!Taehyun loves the outdoors, the fresh green grass, the warmth of the sun, and how beautiful you look sitting next to him on the picnic blanket. Reaching your hand for the last strawberry you then run into Tyun’s hand reaching for the same thing. He’s quick to grab fruit holding it up away from you. Whining, “you had more than enough give it to me.” You climb on top of the hybrid reaching for the strawberry but in a blink, you’re on the ground with the squirrel on top of you. A little smirk creeps on his face watching you squirm, biting the strawberry then kissing you sharing the fruit. He was quite thankful that you were in a dress and in the backyard so it was easy access to fuck you right there. Since then Squirrel!Taehyun begs you to have a treehouse in the backyard so that he can have a special place to read and do other things… Don’t be surprised when he pulls you into the ultimate fuck sessions in the treehouse. Something about the outdoors just gets his instincts going. The cool breeze makes your nipples harden and the scent of wood results in Taehyun fucking you in all positions. Just imagine shelves full of books and toys.

Service Dog!Huening Kai 🐕‍🦺

The first time meeting each other was a breeze, instantly clicking, making jokes, and being comfortable with each other’s presence. Puppy!Kai is playful and cuddly, always up for adventure with you even if it's going from the living room to your bedroom. However, He gets a little too comfortable when you have an episode with him for the first time Service Dog!Kai freezes. He sensed something in the air, he knew that you seemed off, it wasn’t until you called out for him he was stunned but instantly went into work mode. Service Dog!Kai is there sitting next to you, nosing you to sense any change to your current state. Poor Puppy!Kai will never forgive himself after that moment, you try again and again to tell him that it’s okay, mistakes happen, but he’s stubborn. Service Dog!Kai is also stubborn about your health, he will not let you up until your heart rate is appropriate. He is ready for anything, pills? He has a bag full of them. Sweet treat? Has the mobile app ready. Your big, sweet puppy links arms with you everywhere you go and makes sure that he’ll never falter when you have an episode.

After a day full of stressors and being overstimulated, Service Dog!Kai leads you to your bed where you two nap until dusk. Kai can sense your resolved mood, your scent is calmer, and your heart rate is settled, you also start to cling to him more. Your gentle hands scratching Puppy!Kai’s black-folded ears causing small whimpers to escape his lips. Crawling up to you, he focuses on your body language reading that you’re comfortable. You sandwich the hybrid’s handsome face with your hands making Kai’s fluffy black tail wag wildly. You then pull him to kiss you. His whole body covers you like a warm blanket, kissing you softly, repeatedly asking “Is this ok?” “Are you comfortable?” Your kisses get more passionate and hungry, it makes it hard for Kai to hold back. Puppy!Kai quickly learns how sex reduces anxiety, he loves sensing your arousal state while sucking on your tit as his fingers play with your clit. Puppy!Kai now always asks for sex as a remedy, wanting your mind to just think of him if not fucked dumb. 

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil 🐾

taglist: @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman, @izzyy-stuff, @incogrio, @blue-moon-514, @biteyoubiteme, @hyukascampfire

divider: @bernardsbendystraws

[tarisbackyard]

Here's how to write an authentic Grimm style fairytale, brought to you by a Certified German TM:

Forget everything Disney movies taught you, besides maybe Snowwhite, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. But even those are on thin fucking ice. Also ignore modern fantasy literature conventions, especially Dungeons & Dragons type stuff.

Ideally only the protagonist or none of the characters ought to have names. And the names should either be really fucking ordinary, or some kind of epithet. Like, either that's a Franz or a Bramblesock, cause when Bramblesock was a child he lost a sock in a shrub of brambles. Everyone else is either the king, the grandma, or the carpenter.

The common types of protagonist: Regular working class guy who cons his way into a life of riches, poor downtrodden peasant who through hardworking kindness is granted salvation (usually via gaining riches), too pure too good for this world princess who can't catch a fucking break, too nasty too bratty for this world princess who gets taught a lesson in humility.

The characters are generally very one note and the only kind of character growth they can experience boils down to "maybe I shouldn't have been a dick, huh?"

The location is either as vague as possible or super fucking specific for no reason; either the story takes place literally nowhere or in the town of Buxtehude.

Animals and inanimate objects that can talk for no apparent reason and no one bats an eye at are always a great addition.

If you want to add any fantasy races, use giants (large, dumb brutes), dwarves (angry little guys who live in the wilderness and get really angry if you touch their beards), or gnomes (mischievous house spirits who might be helpful but watch out!), but never more than one of these. Fairies are rare and usually the "tall beautiful wise woman" type, not the small annoying pixie type. Dragons are very pointedly no-where to be found, those distinctly belong in sagas, which are their own distinct type of literature.

Weird moral of the story that either boils down to "be smarter than all the other fuckers", "good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people", or "don't upset the supernatural".

Random tidbits of gore that no one bats an eye at.

Witches eat children, if a mother gets more than single line dedicated to her she's evil, fathers are spineless and/or assholes who either die or come around in the end.

Ugly means evil, pretty means good. Except when it doesn't.

Optional: Repeated rhyming phrases and numbers. Seventh son of a seventh son kinda stuff. The numbers 3, 7, 12, and 13 in particular.

Ideally a 19th century scholar should be able to read some clumsy Germanic pagan wishful thinking into the story, no matter how big and obvious the Christian overtones are.

Optional: Start the story with "Once upon a time" and end it with "And if they didn't die, then they are still alive today."

[chenfleur]

melting again

pairing. yang jungwon x y/n ⇝ ft older brother!jake

genre. family by choice au, that one scene from ep 13, fluff, secret relationship

word count. 1.2k

author's note. this drama ended last week and now there is a gaping hole in my chest. i'm trying to get back into writing after a few months and i forgot how hard it is (headinhands) happy december! i hope this month is kind to everyone ♡

masterlist

You’re not exactly sure how long you’ve spent sitting in the fourth floor’s common area, shifting around to find a more comfortable dip in the armchair, uncrossing your legs when the bottom one falls asleep just to cross it over the other. The condensation of your iced coffee dripping down your wrist is a prickly sensation—it demands your attention that, up until now, had been completely focused on burning holes through Yang Jungwon and Jake Sim’s apartment door. 

When the rivulet ends as a small, wet blotch on the sleeve of your blouse, your patience snaps.

There’s a resounding slam of sole against tile as you march up to the door, fingers fumbling with the keypad. “Assholes,” you curse under your breath, impatiently punching in the code you already know by heart. “I reminded them twice yesterday that we’d be having breakfast at Dad’s…”

The door unlocks with a click and a little jingle. Hastily twisting the door handle, you exercise your self-given (and very justified, you’d argue) right to barge into their apartment as if it were your own. 

“Guys!” You slip off your shoes, kicking them to the side. “Where the hell are—”

The obnoxious wave of alcohol that hits your nose makes you stop in your tracks, extinguishing your fuse by forcing you to take in the state of their apartment.

See, your expectations for two twenty-something men living together weren’t high to begin with, but this seemed excessive. The place looks like the morning after a college party, but the fact that you know it was only the two of them last night is what makes it unreasonable.

Random clusters of soju bottles, crumpled beer cans, and half-torn chip bags are strewn all over the place—and there, in all their flushed-face glory, were Jungwon and Jake. Both severely passed out on opposite ends of the couch.

You roll your eyes so hard, they’re practically in the back of your head.

“Jake. Sim. Wake. Up,” you grit out, punctuating each word with a smack to his limp arm. “Seriously, wake up. Did you forget we’re eating with Dad today? Huh?”

Your older brother only groans in his sleep, moving away from your swatting hand and settling back against the couch. There’s a siren in your head urging you to punch him, but you silence it with an irritated sigh.

Then, your eyes fall onto Jungwon. They soften.

Setting your things down, you round the coffee table, kneeling down next to the couch. Your brain is determined to stay annoyed with him for not being ready to leave, but your hand is gentler than you’d hoped for as you shake his shoulder. 

“Jungwon,” you murmur. “Come on, just wake up.”

Not a part of him moves, not even in acknowledgement. A deep sigh leaves your lips as you slowly push yourself up by your knees, about to turn away—but fingers wrap around your wrist, latching on. 

A surprised yelp escapes you as Jungwon tugs you down onto the couch. You fall into place, into the spaces where his body hadn’t already taken up. A sputtered protest is about to leave your lips, one about him being awake the whole time and ignoring you, but it dies on its way out when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. 

Frozen, you blink. It amuses him, based on the way the corners of his lips quirk up ever so slightly. The tip of his nose is cold when it brushes against yours.

“You look pretty,” he mumbles sleepily.

Ten years apart wasn’t enough time for your eyes to learn to handle the sight of Yang Jungwon. They were still so overwhelmed by him—darting everywhere, trying to process his eyes, nose, lips. Trying to process the parts of him that had changed, like his cheeks that are less round than they were when he left for Seoul.

And maybe the fact that the only version of him you remember and truly know is the one from high school—that you had watched him grow up, but not in a way that your insecurity told you actually mattered—is what causes you to fixate on certain things.

Like how his less round cheeks still carry that lingering, rosy tint that you remember. That you try to hold onto.

You strain yourself to harden your gaze. It fails miserably.

“Jungwon, what are you doing?” you whisper urgently. “Jake is right there—”

“He’s asleep,” Jungwon murmurs in response. “Out cold.”

Gaze flitting over to the coffee table, he regards you with a raised brow. “Iced coffee? In winter?”

You glare at him. “What does the temperature of my drinks have to do with the season?”

One of his hands leaves your waist to gently flick your nose, returning to its original post when you open your mouth in protest. “Stupid girl. No wonder you get sick so easily.”

Scoffing, you grumble, “You should go back to Seoul. Piece of shit.” 

You know it’s an empty threat. A miserably thin veil, trying to keep him from looking too closely at the fragment of your heart that physically shakes with fear at the thought of losing him again. Of unknowingly handing him over to a city that doesn’t welcome him. To people who hurt him.

So after the words leave your lips, you curl a little tighter into him. Trying to get his warmth to swallow you and rejuvenate the parts of you that have been aching dully since the day he’d left.

Jungwon watches you through half-lidded eyes the entire time that you’re silent. He carefully takes in the way your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt.

His first instinct is to pry, but he decides that you probably don’t want his first instinct.

“Kiss,” he murmurs instead.

The request catches you off guard, snapping you out of your bleak thoughts. “No,” you purse your lips, trying to push down the small smile that threatens to surface. “No. You’re drunk and you smell.”

“I kiss you when you’re stinky and you won’t do the same?”

“What are you even talking about? I’m never stinky, unlike you right now.”

Jungwon only chuckles, and in the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours in a fleeting kiss. When he pulls away, he’s looking at you again, a pretty smile on his lips at how caught off guard you look.

“You— you can’t just do that—” 

“Says who?” He tilts his head at you with a soft click of his tongue. “Apparently I have a girlfriend who doesn’t know the concept of free will.”

Girlfriend. The idea still makes your head spin. 

You glance over your shoulder to check that Jake is still dead to the world before coming back to Jungwon. “Come on,” you whisper, hand coming up to rest on his hair, twirling a small piece between your fingers. “We’re gonna be late. My dad will get worried and start blowing up my phone again.”

Nodding against the pillow, Jungwon’s cat-like eyes flutter closed again. “Okay.” 

A pause. “Love you.”

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

“Mm,” a coherent part of you manages to hum back. Your lips press a quick, soft kiss to the corner of his eye, not before taking one more precautionary glance at Jake. 

“Love you, Won.”

[takes1]

feral!atsumu miya eating shy!reader up

back to back to back to back to back atsumu edit is stuck in my head. first time writing atsumu!!!! i made him a little intimidating, kind of sorry but not really

warnings. nsfw themes, primal themes, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / college au / reader has braces / atsumu is a creep / oral fixation kink!atsumu / needy!atsumu / friend-zoned!osamu / the twins are fighting / disrespect of personal space / narcissistic!atsumu / inconsiderate!atsumu / atsumu does not crush, he crashes / heavy petting / primal vibe idk how i got here? / 2.4k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu.

Crushing on the nerdy metal-mouth Osamu kept around was bad enough.

Atsumu could rationalize you, jerk the feeling out then promptly forget, and borderline-deal with it the first three times he saw you around their place.

Yet, recently, it felt like you were over at their apartment constantly. He just couldn't get rid of you with finals right around the corner, and his brother being the hopeless dimwit who chose not to study on his own.

A welcome change to the status quo, because Atsumu couldn't get your pretty, shiny teeth out of his brain.

He tilted his head from the doorway, watching like a starved pack animal, as his brother made you laugh.

Your lips pulled back in that big, cute grin and he could see all the colorful little rubber bands stretch. His fingers twitched, then clawed against his palm. His jaw flexed under the heavy burden of his fixation.

Barely three seconds inside, and he couldn't stop his legs from coming to rest on the back of the couch. You smiled less, if at all, when he was close.

"D'ya like wearin' those?"

His oversized shoulders draped over top of the cushions, his tricep barely grazing your back just before you had the mind to move away.

"What?"

You fixed your hoodie, a tiny glance down at the comfortable clothes you chose for the ultra-casual occasion.

"Your braces," He rolled his eyes, but grinned.

It made him look like an asshole but that was not a new concept.

Osamu, in the middle of a practice problem, muttered something about how you shouldn't pay attention to him-- but how could you not?

He may have looked identical to your friend, but his energy was too imposing, too intriguing, for your secret tastes to just ignore. The way you entertained him was so subtle that nobody would have guessed you did it on purpose; you were too soft-spoken, your cards held too close to your chest, for anyone to assume you liked his curiosity.

"Well?" He leaned further in, forcing you to maintain your distance by scooting back into the arm of the couch.

"I..." You glanced to Osamu, to see if he would interject like he usually did when Atsumu started talking to you. He looked frustrated, but only at the paper under his mountain of eraser marks.

"No, they're- um... annoying."

"Well... I've worn them for years. They're expensive," You held respective fingers up to start counting all the reasons you disliked your braces, "Oh- It took forever to get used to the scratching-,"

"The scr-atching?"

His voice cracked, but it was spoken so incredibly soft that you didn't clock it.

"O-on the inside of my cheeks," You puffed out a laugh, unsure of what to make of his expression, "Brushing, flossing, that all takes longer. Um... I hate my smile- I can't eat certain foods,"

Atsumu always did this thing, where, when he got really into somebody: He would take a big breath, cross his arms, and follow a series of nodding and sighs that made it incredibly easy to tell when he was about to say something very inappropriate, or in the best of cases, 'make a move.'

And, after years of being present for the worst of these ideas, voiced in an egotistical -somewhat mindless fashion-, Osamu learned when to stop him.

The arms were crossed, tightening his already tiny shirt. You could hear the fabric groan under the pressure and tried not to stare. The sighs were already making you stop talking, because they sounded forced, and irritated.

"So...um...yeah..." You trailed, shrinking at his intense face.

He squinted, nodding, at you, but really, he was just making it look like he was listening.

It was quiet for a minute as he tried to recollect all his disgusting thoughts of his fingers, his tongue, other things in your mouth.

"Soooo, let's say, hypothetically--, y'know, you have like, a boyfriend-,"

Osamu slapped a hard palm over the side of his brother's face, not truly meaning for it to connect- but too fast in his heroic attempt to stop him.

It spiraled into a 'small' fight. You instantly moved away, swallowing a yelp.

"Dumbass!"

"Don't fucking hit me!!"

"You're disgusting!"

It felt like watching mountains throw giant, city-sized punches at each other.

They were both so heavy that they started rocking the couch back, forth, and back, and forth again. You had to get up and stand even further away to be guaranteed an ounce of safety.

Osamu pulled his twin so hard that he managed to get him rolled over the back of the couch. They then tumbled to the floor in a blind fury. The punches were less frequent, but they were still hurting each other.

Aran did warn you that they got into intense scuffles sometimes, but it all felt so out-of-nowhere. Had he cautioned you because they were this common and unpredictable?

You quietly collected your homework, minding a careful side-eye to the action, and began to shove your things into your bag.

"What are you?"

"What does that mean!"

"Can-you read minds or somethin'?! What'd I do?!"

Osamu pushed him hard by the chest, into the coffee table-- you flinched at the loud scraping sound, swung your bag onto your shoulders, and started a brisk walk to the door.

"Woah woah woah!" Atsumu's voice did nothing to make you linger.

"You're leaving?"

Osamu, more familiar, and sweeter, did make you pause.

Your face grew warm, your hands squeezed hard on your bag straps. You didn't want to turn around, but you found the strength, somewhere.

Quiet, as always, "You two seem...busy."

"We're not!" Atsumu shoved his head to the side as he stood up.

"I thought you were gonna stay the night!" Osamu punched his knee in return, and quickly made the distance while he was holding it in agony.

Now that Osamu was closer, you didn't have to speak so loud.

"Yeah- I," You glanced to his brother, warmer, "You didn't tell me he'd be around."

It wasn't a variable that Osamu ever thought to consider, just based on his torn expression.

You felt a bit guilty for making things weird, but it wasn't your fault some blond idiot couldn't stop badgering you about your biggest insecurity.

If you were going to pull this study session off, you didn't want any distractions. Atsumu was best confined to your fantasies, not interposed in your attempts to cram for the exam next week.

Still: There was no world where you would study alone if you went home.

"He's busy tonight anyway. Just in and out- don't worry about him," Osamu uttered, hands already in his pockets.

He even gave you a nothing-just-happened shrug.

Since the very second that they stopped rough-housing, their animosity had disappeared. Atsumu was tossing pillows back onto the couch.

Their sudden indifference left you pensive and insecure with your hand on the doorknob. Since you were the only one here unaccustomed to their dynamic, you were alone in dealing with the subtle aftershock of watching what you thought was a brother-versus-brother death match.

Were they not very angry with each other?

Osamu caught you glancing between him and his brother again, who was busying himself in the kitchen.

"Oh-h'yeah, we get into it sometimes. It's really not a big deal."

Since he seemed like such a trustworthy guy, you decided to stay as you had intended.

The remainder of your study session was nearly as he promised. Atsumu did leave again, headphones on, gym bag slung over his plush, bare shoulder, with keys twirling around his finger. He winked and clicked his teeth at you when he caught you peering over to the door, on his way out. That was about all, in terms of the rest of his 'meddling.'

You couldn't be certain if he was making fun of you, though, so you safely assumed the worst.

The cram session lasted until you found Osamu asleep, in the middle of writing. He had been repeating the same sequence for six minutes, a quarter of his paper filled with the start of a particularly confusing practice problem, the bottom corner soaked with drool.

Osamu was kind enough to offer you a place in his room, use his bathroom so you could get ready for bed, but something about the suggestion felt too... familiar.

You were only staying over because 1) it was so far away from your apartment, 2) neither of you were available during decent hours of the day, and 3) you didn't like your own roommates enough to be itching to go back. His spot on the edge of town was quiet, clean, and there was only Atsumu to mind.

So you stayed on the first floor, made a bed out of the couch, and used the freestanding bathroom to shower.

You were under the impression Atsumu wouldn't be back, so, the door was cracked.

The soft sound of a sink faucet running filled the silent first floor. Any reasonable person who was around might return later-- not skulk about the hallway, biding time, running countless scenarios through their mind.

He had to piss, but not bad enough to interrupt you.

You heard some floorboards creaking, so you opened the door wider in middle of brushing your teeth to peek out. Nothing was out there. Only a still, dark hallway, so you kept it open to let out the light and steam.

Atsumu studied you as you finished up, not attempting to hide again, from the doorway.

It was obvious you hadn't noticed him so he cleared his throat-- smug at how hard you jumped, how startled he got you.

"S-orry, uhm--," You tensed all over, hardly able to look in his general direction, "Were you waiting?"

You wore only an enormous t-shirt and fidgeted with it instantly. It wasn't even unnecessary, because he stared at all of you with a heavy, canted head.

Atsumu's lips pursed, the only unassuming thing on his expression, "Mm-mm."

He leaned on the top of the doorframe, hard as a rock, and pretty shameless about it, because he made no move to adjust himself. You shrank at how he lingered, how the air hung hot and heavy, after his honest admission that he was here for no good reason.

Your internal list of questions grew longer by the second.

Some were answered based on contextual evidence, such as: He was still wearing his gym clothes, and you thought you could see the bulge of keys in his pocket, so he must have gotten back in the last five minutes.

Assuming the best, he needed to pee before he went upstairs and you happened to be here. Assuming the worst, he- well- maybe just wanted to give you a hard time.

"Oka-y," You breathed, glancing down to the last step in your routine, "Well... I need to put new bands in, so."

He gave you nothing.

When you motioned to the bands you had for your braces, he didn't even follow. It started to feel predatory, how keen of a stare the guy had. The kind of intensity that made you careful to not make any quick or sudden movements.

Was he going to watch? Was something wrong with him?

It somehow felt rude to close the door on him, in his own apartment, so you didn't try that.

Your unsure glances, many in number yet useless in changing anything, were the only thing exchanged between you.

After a minute, when you were nearly done and towards the very back of your mouth, just getting used to his presence, it looked like he was going to cry when you checked him in the mirror.

"Are you-- ugh, Jesus- gross," You had to suck off the excess spit from the band, completely taken with embarrassment, but worried, nonetheless, "Are you... okay?"

He broke the wall trim- a big, loud, cr-ACK! that made you jump back.

Though it was loud, and scary, it did shake him out.

He blinked slow, with a sigh, and pried his own fingers from the door. He looked up at the future expense, but didn't seem remorseful in the slightest.

"I'm..." Atsumu was at a loss for the first time.

His eyes fell from the top of the doorframe back down to you, ravenous and deep, "I want you so fuckin' bad."

All out in the air, it stuck. It was too raw to be a joke.

Still, rubber bands pinched in between your fingers, speech impaired-

"Wow, okay, um- can-- Can I finish this real quick, though?"

There was that little tremble in his chin, as you hurried to place them further back, bent at the hips right against the counter to check their proper spot in the mirror.

He shoved his strained face in his bicep with a groan, breathing labored, while you shakily packed your things back in your night bag, applied some much-needed Vaseline, and washed your hands. It felt like ten minutes, but it was hardly one.

You lingered after wiping them off on a towel. Unsure, turned on, and violently nervous.

"You gon' come outta there on your own, or-," He ducked his head under the frame, an unfriendly grin on his jaw as he chuckled, "Should I drag ya out?"

A whimpery laugh caught in your throat. Was he trying to be funny? He sure as Hell didn't make you want to move.

You backed yourself into the wall. His fingers were light and gentle. Amused at your demeanor, he found himself having to pry the towel from your iron grip, and redirect your hands to his shoulders.

He didn't mind your nervous pushing.

"You're awful cute," He seethed at the smell of your conditioner and leaned down into the roots of your hair to get a better angle.

His thumbs pressed firm into your tummy, palms swallowing your waist, as his words buzzed against your skin, "You know 'Samu talks about you, right?"

Oh, Jesus- All you responded with was a closed-mouth sigh. You had a gut feeling about him, but did not want to find out this way.

If it wasn't for your weight on the wall, you were confident that you couldn't stand on your own. It was hot and pounding between your legs. He felt sinfully good and he hadn't done anything other than be proximate.

"Mmm."

His hand caught you from looking down and away, still so gentle, guiding you back to look at him. Your brow furrowed with the effort it took to do so.

You could now feel how rough his palm was, on your tender cheek.

"You don't like him the same way, do ya?" He asked, but it was hardly voiced that way. It was teasing; a mean jab at his brother.

The way he hung over you, looming down to get close, made it feel like there was nowhere else to go.

Your fingers filled with his damp shirt, face burning hot under the pressure, as he took his time, now that he had you right where he wanted you. All to himself.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia

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♡ notes: im just making it status quo to not guarantee part 2's bc i disappear sometimes

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[callikari]

PARANOIA ★ N.RK

PRECIS 。 a quiet love that shows up, stays, and never asks ...

西村力 x fem!reader 1322 fluff ─ emotional vulnerability implied loneliness skinship kissing quiet obsession

REBLOG FOR A KiSS

you meet riki by accident.

literally. your shoulder clips his as you’re rushing across laguna street, late for something you don’t even want to go to. he barely reacts—just side steps like he saw it coming, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, chewing gum lazily.

he glances at you once. cool, flat, unreadable. then walks off like it didn’t even happen.

you tell your friends later you think you saw a ghost in daylight.

you see him again in japantown.

he’s sitting alone at a café, feet propped up on the chair across from him like he owns the place. the same grey headphones hang loose around his neck, his deadpan stare distant but sharp. he catches your eye over the rim of his iced matcha.

“you’re the girl who ran into me.”

you blink. “you remember that?”

“you were going fast.” he shrugs. “kind of hard to forget.”

he doesn’t offer you a seat, but you sit down anyway. he doesn’t stop you.

riki isn’t shy. he just doesn’t care to fill the silence. when you talk, he listens with his eyes on everything but your face—his straw, the way light hits the foggy window, the sleeve of your hoodie he keeps tugging at without noticing.

but beneath that calm surface, he notices everything.

he sees how you bite your lip when you’re nervous.

he notices the small crease that forms between your eyebrows when you’re confused.

he watches how your fingers tremble when you’re cold.

he remembers how you always take your coffee—black, no sugar.

you don’t have to say you don’t like something—he just doesn’t do it again.

one night, you mention you hate people touching your hair. the next day, even when you lean into him, his hands stay firmly in his pockets. no accidental brushes, no casual grazes.

another time, you say you don’t like loud places. when you’re out, he subtly guides you away from the crowd without a word. no explanations needed.

he doesn’t ask. he just knows.

“you always come here alone?” you ask, noticing him sitting alone as usual.

“don’t like people talking to me when i eat.”

you pause. “you’re talking to me.”

he hums, like it’s the simplest truth. “you’re not annoying.”

that’s the closest thing to affection you get that day.

he starts showing up more.

not in a clingy way—he never texts first, never calls. but you see him everywhere: tucked in a corner of your favorite bookstore, walking past the painted ladies at golden gate park, once leaned against the railing of your apartment rooftop, looking like he’s been there for hours.

you don’t ask how he got in. he just tilts his head and says, “you’ve got a good view.”

as if that explains everything.

you start bringing him mochi from japantown. he never asks, but he eats it anyway. pulls it apart with long fingers, leaning back in your desk chair like he’s been living in your room his whole life.

“you always this quiet?” you ask.

he shrugs, that casual look never leaving his face. “you talk enough for both of us.”

slowly, you start letting him do the things you usually don’t let people do.

first, it’s his hand brushing against yours when you both reach for the same book in the bookstore. you don’t pull away. instead, your fingers linger, just for a second, before pulling back like you’re afraid you’re imagining it.

then it’s his fingers threading through your hair, absentmindedly smoothing the strands as you sit side by side, watching the fog roll over the bay.

you catch yourself leaning into it, like the warmth from those fingers calms the restless thoughts inside you.

he notices when you stiffen, and pulls back, but only just enough.

one rainy afternoon, you’re walking through japantown, sharing one umbrella. his arm brushes yours, then slides around your waist. it’s casual, like he’s holding onto you to keep balance. but your heart races.

the quiet of the rain makes everything feel intimate. the soft tapping of water on the umbrella, the smell of wet pavement mixed with jasmine tea from a nearby shop.

he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. never says “i want you” or “stay.” he just is.

the hugs come next.

not sudden or loud, but quiet and steady. when you shiver from the cold fog, his arms slide around your shoulders, pulling you close.

you try to pull away at first — you’re not used to letting someone hold you like that. but then you realize it’s not about needing something from him. it’s about the comfort of being seen.

and riki, with all his unreadable calm, sees you better than anyone ever has.

sometimes, when you’re sitting on the rooftop watching the city lights blur in the mist, he’ll lean his head on your shoulder, just for a moment. like he trusts you without having to say it.

holding hands feels like a secret only you two know.

he waits for you to move your fingers to his palm first — he never forces it. but once you do, he squeezes gently. just enough to say, “i’m here.”

sometimes he intertwines your fingers, sometimes he lets your hand rest on his leg while you talk. every little touch is deliberate but light, like a quiet promise.

riki kisses you like it’s not a big deal.

like it’s something he’s been meaning to do for a long time but forgot until the right moment.

he does it on the way home from a late walk—your hand brushing his, his gaze steady on how your lips move when you talk about dumb things like constellations.

“you think too much,” he murmurs.

then he kisses you. slow, barely pressing, like he’s tasting the words you didn’t say.

when he pulls back, he just says: “you’re cute when you’re paranoid.”

sometimes, he runs his thumb over your knuckles when you’re nervous.

sometimes, he traces lazy circles on your wrist when you’re tired.

you catch him watching you like he’s memorizing every little detail — the way your hair falls over your eyes, the way your smile breaks through the fog of your worries.

“what are we doing?” you ask one night, fingers tangled in his.

“nothing.”

“then why do you keep showing up?”

he shrugs, voice low. “…dunno. i like how you look at me.”

some nights, you wake up to him sitting at the foot of your bed, scrolling through your books or watching the fog outside. he never wakes you. he never says he’s staying over. he just… doesn’t leave.

and you let him.

because when riki’s around, nothing feels urgent. nothing feels fake.

you never know what he’s thinking—but you know, somehow, it always comes back to you.

vi says :: hi i love the marias! ♡

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