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#funny how things come full circle like that
zemi-noelle-art · 4 months
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me in 2004: "I like care bears and ninja turtles!"
in between: "I don't much care for these things anymore." me in 2024: "I like care bears and ninja turtles..."
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ickypuppi3 · 2 years
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the duffer brothers after trying to indicate billy’s straightness by having billy show absolutely no interest in girls his age, having his dad call him a homophobic slur, showing billy’s untouched, neatly stacked straight porn mags in the top drawer of his bedside table, having max talk about billy with girls in his room and how loud they are (which doesn’t track when you consider neil’s behaviour so it just comes off as performative) and showing billy trying to get with a much older woman who looks kinda similar to his mother who abandoned him as a child
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randomwords247 · 5 months
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Something so funny to me about growing up watching Martyn Inthelittlewood, from his Christmas ADVENTure series's to his skyward sword play through, up until he got into Fortnite and seemed to leave Minecraft behind, around which point a lot of other YouTubers also quit and my WATCHING of Minecraft slowed down a LOT
Only to get into new fandoms as mcyt revived, including hermitcraft and, ohhey the life series! With - MARTYN INTHELITTLEWOOD???
It's so wild and really funny to me. He is back and playing murder games with hermits and others. He made a big chunk of my childhood and he's back to snipe my adulthood too and honestly I am here for it
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arglemouf · 7 months
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i started rewatching bfdi from the beginning yesterday -- i still i stopped watching around 2 years ago, last thing i knew was bfb and tpot were being released concurrently-- but i had NO IDEA that they're still making bfdia???????? after a decade????????? thats so exciting
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rinrinlovee · 5 months
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sometimes a girl is soso emotionally exhausted
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goldicthehedgefox · 2 years
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You remind me of. Silver hedgehog and Lucario epic
You you you
you.
I appreciate you
(link to funny ask game this ask spawned from)
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 27] || [Chapter 29]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions! Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment
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Chapter 28: How in the-
The trip with John was short but sweet. A full weekend together, away from everything…
Followed by 4 whole weeks alone. Not that you minded the extra piece and quiet.
You were normally kept at a distance from the boys and their line of work. Arms length, not because they don’t trust you, but because just like Simon learned to drop Ghost at the door, the rest drop work at the door too.
The closest thing you get to ‘work’ is funny anecdotes that can even make you laugh, OR soft, whispered, retelling of memories as your hands snake over their rough skins, fingers grazing the scars that those memories left behind.
Today was a first. In a lot of ways.
The boys showed up at your flat at 3 A.M. after spending a whole month out of Hereford and in God knows where.
You had opened the door very wearily to the sight of the four of them, not even having changed out of their tactical gear, looking like they had been through hell.
Kyle was walking with a limp and a groan, his back stiff and an inability to properly swivel side to side at the hips.
Johnny had gotten his shoulder shot?? Plus his knee was acting up so he was also limping.
John was, also, limping. His back was also stiff and he murmured something about having pulled a muscle.
And Simon? The man’s eyes were surrounded by circles darker than you’d ever seen them, his shoulders slumped. He moved normally, unlike the others. And that concerned you more than anything.
“Jesus, what happened?”
“Mission mishaps. They happen sometimes, da’lin’.” John told you soothingly as he attempted to press a kiss to the crown of your head, but wincing when he felt the pain shoot up his spine.
“Sounds to me like more than mishaps. There’s no way all four of you are injured and it was just a ‘mishap’.” You scolded them as you carefully helped them off their gear, multiple men groaning and grunting in pain as the heavy weights were shed from their torsos.
“Have you been checked?”
“Yes, we went to medic before coming over-” Kyle told you.
“And they let you leave on foot? You look like you all should be on bed rest!” You scolded them.
“And that’s why we’re here.” Johnny added before letting out a groan when you moved his arm, sending pain barreling down his arm.
“How in the-” You murmured as you noted the patched up bullet wound.
“Don’t ask…” Kyle muttered under his breath, a whimper of a sound that you had never quite heard from him.
They were like lost puppies… Needy for being lulled to sleep by a soft hand caressing them behind the ears after some nasty man kicked them on the street.
So that’s how you ended up with four injured soldiers in your house. Ghost took the living room couch, leaving the bed for John and Kyle and Johnny.
“Don’t get any blood on my bed, Johnny!” You warned him. “If something happens, you call me.” You had added as you made sure they were as comfortable as can be before you slipped out of the room.
Reaching the living room, it was now well past 4 A.M. Simon was lying there, one leg swung over the back of your couch, and eyes locked on the shower. “You okay, Simon?” You checked softly.
“Fine, sweetheart.”
“Don’t look fine to me.” You retorted and sat on the armchair by his head, looking down at him, your hand finding his and caressing it.
He twitched a bit against the pillows, brown eyes fluttering for a moment as he took a deep breath. “Mission went tits up. Strained ourselves trying to finish.”
“You too, then?” You asked him and he nodded. “Where?”
“Everywhere. I’m sore all over… And I think I have a fever.” He admitted.
“Do you wanna try a shower?” You suggested and he shook his head.
“I don’t wanna stand up for that long… I get dizzy.”
“And a bath?” You added.
“…” Simon didn’t answer but he groaned and forced himself to stand up. You helped guide him to the bathroom.
After lowering the stopper and allowing the water to flow into the tub, you looked at Simon. “I’ll be outside, okay? I’ll give you privacy.” You told him softly.
Leaning up, you kissed his pale cheek, and turned away…
Only for him to catch you by the wrist. “Stay.”
“What?” You asked him, unsure you heard him right.
“Stay. Please.” He requested.
“But… you said you didn’t-” You trailed off, the memory of his fear of exposing his body to you (or anyone) clear in your mind.
“I know what I said. Just… Please.” He insisted.
“Okay.” You replied and nodded, stepping forward again. He reached his arms up, painfully slowly, the same way John and Kyle and Johnny had.
You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, your eyes finding his scar-riddled torso for the first time. Blotchy skin due to chemical burns here and there, big gashes and smaller cuts spread throughout.
Simon was looking away the whole time as you helped him off his cargos and underwear. The injuries continued down his legs, every inch of him nasty and ugly, only due to how brutal his scars were. In reality, it all made no difference to you.
“You okay?” You checked on him. He nodded slowly, his eyes screwed shut.
“Let’s get you into the water, okay? It’ll do you good.” You said as you grabbed him by the bicep and helped get him into a seated position inside the tub.
Then, you knelt by his side just as he was grunting in relief, his muscles relaxing in the water. 
The bathtub that had felt tight with you and Johnny in it months ago, now felt even smaller with Simon Riley in it. 
Grabbing the sponge, you carefully ran it over his torso and shoulders, wetting the part of him that didn’t fit in the bath.
The blond leaned his head back on the wall and opened his eyes, finding you looking at him.
“Thank you.” Simon told you in a whisper.
“For bathing you?”
“For dating me.” He replied, causing you to smile.
“My, Simon, you might be sicker than I expected. Where’s the confidence?” You teased him good-naturely, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Was never here. Just faking it until I made it…” He admitted and shook his head, letting it lull against the tiles.
“I see, well… It worked.” You joked as you kept wetting his body carefully.
“We’re lucky to have you.” He murmured. “You didn’t have to do this. To put up with us.”
“It’s not putting up if I like you.” You told him. “Besides… you take care of me. I take care of you. Mutually beneficial, that’s what a relationship should be.”
“I don’t take care of you because I like you.” Simon whispered, a drowsy look in his tired eyes.
“Then what for?” You asked him. “Because you want to shag me that bad?” You joked again and winked.
“No… because I love you.” Simon muttered, his lips a bit lazy in the way he said it, clearly too relaxed and tired and groggy to really think straight.
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped open, your hands going limp and dropping the sponge. “Simon…”
“You don’t have to say it back.” He said as he rolled his head against the tile wall, side to side. “Just wanted you to know.”
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx
@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket
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staytheword · 1 year
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on my mind
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on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]
• han jisung x female reader.
• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.
• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.
• word count: 8.6k
You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.
• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡
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You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips. 
You can’t do this anymore. 
You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.
Or you’re going to try. 
It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.
As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.
“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty. 
Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?” 
At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this. 
You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him. 
Almost. 
You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones. 
But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies. 
We get through this together, you said.
Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours. 
Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.” 
“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 
You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.” 
With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt. 
You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly. 
You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly. 
“Shit, what time is it?” 
It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.
“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?” 
“R-right. Yeah. Okay.” 
You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot. 
“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen. 
He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue. 
“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island. 
There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television. 
Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl. 
“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.” 
Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”
“Yes, please.” 
He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh. 
A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours? 
You should study again after this.
Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.
You’re wasting valuable time. 
You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands. 
When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance. 
“Thanks.” 
You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that. 
Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back. 
“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.” 
You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed. 
“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.” 
“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…” 
“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.” 
You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch. 
“Sit down, please.” 
His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest. 
“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?” 
You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing. 
“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.” 
He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.” 
“What do you suggest, then?” 
He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch. 
“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.” 
When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues. 
“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.” 
That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.” 
“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.” 
You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night. 
“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?” 
You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his. 
“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.” 
Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm. 
“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.” 
“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head. 
You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you. 
“You want to join?” 
Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it. 
Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie. 
The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other. 
“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”
“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”
He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand. 
“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.” 
“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.” 
“Sounds good.” 
You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s. 
At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head. 
“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs. 
You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.” 
“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…” 
He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?” 
“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.” 
“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously. 
You could swear he is blushing. 
“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.” 
“I like the idea,” you smile. 
Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh. 
“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.” 
Jisung arches an eyebrow. 
“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.” 
“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”
“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.” 
“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.” 
“She was a bitch,” you point out. 
Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.” 
“That’s not exactly true.” 
“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?” 
You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!” 
“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.” 
You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.” 
“How can you not be a massage person?!” 
You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause. 
“Ji, this isn’t working.” 
He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…” 
“We need something more drastic.” 
He gives you a little nod, and you squint. 
“What was the idea you had earlier?” 
His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?” 
“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.” 
And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.” 
You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.” 
He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest. 
Jisung breathes deeply. 
“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…” 
“Yes?” you encourage him. 
“I jerk off.” 
You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense. 
“Oh,” you breathe out.
“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -” 
“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass. 
You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?
Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?” 
“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.” 
He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment. 
“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously. 
He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even. 
“I mean, if you want some time alone…” 
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?” 
You nod. “Yeah, why?” 
“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.” 
It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly. 
“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice. 
“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.” 
There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking. 
Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?” 
Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes. 
“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds. 
You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now. 
“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”
“Okay,” you whisper. 
Jisung looks at you. “R-really?” 
“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.” 
You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.
“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…” 
“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead. 
You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. 
“Just say it,” he sighs. 
“I heard you that time.” 
Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking. 
“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -” 
“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…” 
“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.” 
Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?” 
“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.” 
Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.” 
“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?” 
“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.” 
You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage. 
Jisung is observing his nails very carefully. 
“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.
Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness. 
“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.
For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard. 
“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.
“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”
“Sure,” Jisung breathes. 
It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen. 
“What?” 
“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.
“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.” 
“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…” 
“Ugh, tell me about it.” 
You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably. 
A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh. 
“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says. 
You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.” 
Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy. 
“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.” 
“O-okay.” 
Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch  next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju. 
It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other. 
Oh, God. 
Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.
Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God. 
On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another. 
You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet. 
As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes. 
He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.
You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply. 
“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.
“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment. 
Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.” 
You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction. 
But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing. 
The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure. 
“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.” 
“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.” 
“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.” 
Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed. 
Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god! 
You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move. 
You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears. 
“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.” 
You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this. 
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. 
“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.” 
Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.” 
“S-sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”
You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.
“Ji, do you… do you want some help?” 
The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.
Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?” 
You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.” 
He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.”  He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…” 
“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.” 
“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…” 
You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself. 
“H-here.” 
He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair. 
You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.
Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric. 
“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music. 
Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.
“Is that okay?” you ask him softly. 
“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…” 
The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm. 
“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!” 
“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.” 
It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips. 
“Y-you sure?” 
You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls. 
“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…” 
“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.
You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently. 
“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -” 
He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully. 
When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray. 
This is a sight you’ll never forget. 
A taste you’ll never forget. 
You feel something tighten in your chest. 
You’ve fallen so hard for him. 
“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you. 
His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy. 
“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you. 
He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth. 
“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.” 
Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh. 
The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin. 
“Jisung…” 
“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.
When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him. 
“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”
He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning. 
You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.
Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…” 
The nickname alone almost ends you.
He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says. 
The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?” 
It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?” 
You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt. 
“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear. 
You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away. 
“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained. 
He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him. 
You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.
“Y/N…” 
Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy. 
“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.” 
“Y/N, wait -” 
You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.
You smile. 
You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you. 
Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to. 
When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear. 
“Y/N, please, listen -” 
You don’t think. You just kiss him. 
Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock. 
“What are you -” 
“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.” 
It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again. 
You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.” 
You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth. 
“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.” 
“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”
“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.” 
You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again. 
“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.” 
You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.
It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.
You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.
He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.  
“Fuck, those tits…” 
You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.
“Ji, please…” 
His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours. 
Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have. 
Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you. 
“Can I - I mean - You sure?” 
“Yes,” you nod. 
You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out. 
“Are you okay?” 
You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.” 
“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.” 
You smile, pulling him into a kiss. 
“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear. 
He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together. 
You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure. 
“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…” 
“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…” 
You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic. 
“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…” 
“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…” 
He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.” 
“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”
“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.” 
With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws. 
“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”
“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.
“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.” 
“Jisung.” 
You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes. 
“Will you kiss me?” 
Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.
Some time later, you smile. 
You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.
“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him. 
You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.” 
“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.” 
“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.” 
“Me too, Ji. Me too.” 
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I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.
Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡
taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry
5K notes · View notes
bitchlessdino · 8 months
Note
I have this in mind, maybe svt member x reader where they are classmates from college, they are close but not THAT close lol. Until one day they started talking about house prices and how the rent is so expensive, but still with the desire of living alone, so he (maybe hoshi or woozi) proposed that they should find a place together to split rent. It started as a joke, but then they found a really good place and decided to try to live together for at least one semester.
so yeah at first everything is great since both of them are always busy, so they dont really see each other that often around the house.
until it could be that they are sexually frustrated and start a friends with benefits relationship (but in secret, so their circle of friends dont know about it). However, reader always had a big crush on him, but never said anything. idk what else to say
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Pairing: college roommate!soonyoung x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 5.9k tags: pwithplot, established friendship, roommate au, friends to fwb, pining, pervert!reader, pervert!soonyoung, mentions of alcohol, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, missionary, doggy, praise kink Summary: When it comes to the economy and needing a roof to live under, having a roommate is your best option, especially as any desperate college student. When arrangements are made with Soonyoung, a friend you admittedly have a visceral lust for, things take a turn one messy night. Making this arrangement more of an edible arrangement. author note: so i may have run wild since hoshi posted those thirst trap photos haha. im very proud of the header i made for this. this was something i planned on posting before my unprepared hiatus, and hopefully i'm still in spirits on continuing this. please anticipate more of me and remember that writers love interaction, criticism or not <333
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun
“That’s funny, Soonyoung’s looking for a place too.”
You looked over at the man in question to see him mid-feast on a sandwich bigger than his face as it puffed his cheeks full like a common squirrel. “Why are you looking for a place? I thought you made plans with Seokmin?”
The man struggled to swallow down the larger-than-life bite, barely managing to do without scratching the back of his throat before answering. “His parents convinced him against it. I should’ve known he’d back out when he didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”
“Do you know how to do your own laundry?”
“I know there are colors and whites, detergent and softener—I’d figure it out.”
“I’m hearing a no…”
“Youtube exists. How hard could it be? But yeah, I’m looking for a place.” He set his sandwich aside to lean in closer, washing down any remnants with a swig of his Jihoon’s stolen Coke Zero, who at the moment couldn’t be more distracted with Physics paper. “It’s not easy that’s for sure. A single bedroom is way too much on its own and anything bigger I can barely cover half of.”
“Here’s an idea,” Mingyu suggested like it wasn’t on his mind for the fifteen minutes you’ve been complaining about being essentially homeless, “Why don’t you guys figure something out together?”
“Really? Me and Soonyoung?”
Your counterpart couldn’t help the offense washing over his face. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know if you’d be a good roommate.”
“What makes you roommate of the year?”
You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each for what, a semester and a half, and I don’t know what your living habits are. I’ve basically lived alone all my life with my parents working all the time. How do I know you won’t push all the housework on me?”
Scoffing, his lips twisted up in a cocky smile. “You’re looking at the flail youngest of two who did almost a decade of housework for a hundred dollar allowance for a week. I don’t waste Pinesol, I hand wash dishes, and I keep my 50 pairs of shoes neatly out of the doorway and in pristine condition.”
“You can do all that and not operate a washing machine?”
“The buttons and colors confuse me.”
“So,” Mingyu interrupted again, “How about it? Sounds like you guys a both a little desperate. The housing market isn’t getting any lower.”
“I guess you don’t sound all to bad to live with then,” You replied with a tinge of a tease.
“What do you bring to the table?” Soonyoung interjected.
“Discounts for food at my work, a Netflix account, a pack of scrub daddies, and a decent amount of disposable income for half an average month's rent and fun stuff if we ever get bored. Down?”
Soonyoung stroked his chin as if to think, but his head, the deal sounded as good as it can get. If he was being honest, he was desperate, but after the berating, he couldn’t let you know that. “Add in some salon-quality shampoos and conditioners and we have a deal.”
You groaned. “Fine, for a semester for now, but you’re getting laundry stuff and learning how to use the machines.”
You hadn’t expected to be apartment shopping with Soonyoung looking like a pair of newlyweds, but here you were doing exactly that. There wasn’t anything particular about him that bothered you, (except maybe the harboring attraction you had for him since freshman orientation that you blanketed over with over argumentative banter and an aloof attitude when he was around).
But as far as you knew, you were morning and night.  Sure, you’ve gotten along in social situations, but you knew how drastically different your lives were. When you aren’t working, you were a homebody and he’d bring bodies home. He lived differently than you did to put it plainly.
And perhaps the idea of waking up with him every morning possibly shirtless and/or naked frankly made you both terrified and aroused all at once.
The moment you shook his hand to agree, you were already feeling some regret, but hey, maybe that’ll actually do you some good. Maybe you’ll finally get over this school crush on this unattainably hot guy after seeing how disgusting he is leaving his underwear and socks in every corner of the place. It’s inevitable things can only go down from here, right? Right?
“A few ground rules should be in order.”
Soonyoung nodded, putting away the remainder of the edible arrangement gifted to you by your collective friends in the fridge. “Like what?”
“Chores should be switched off every week so we know how to handle all types at all times, but we do our own laundry. No exceptions. Dinner is a group effort. If we get takeout, always tell the other at least an hour in advance and costs are split. Groceries are bought biweekly with a set budget.”
“Strict, but ok. I’ll do my best to follow them. Anything else?”
You were reluctant to bring up this last one. You cleared you through, taking a second to properly form the words before letting them out. “If we have someone that we’re getting involved with, it’s either done at their place or in an empty apartment with plenty of notice.”
Soonyoung can’t help but bust out a wide and perfect grin, crossing his arms seeing the timid expression on your face. “Fine. I’ll make sure when I have sex with someone, it’s under those guidelines.”
“Ha, thanks,” You awkwardly respond, “I’ll abide the same.”
His eye narrowed at you dubiously. “Wait, you’ll actually get around?”
“Why are you doubting me?”
He chuckled, shrugging smooth broad shoulders through his black sleeveless tee. “You just don’t really seem about that. There’s nothing wrong with it, but—“
“You don’t know every detail of my intimate life so butt out.”
His arms rose up in defense, nodding along. “Alright, okay. If that’s all, I have a few rules of my own.”
“Okay. Have at it.”
He mused to himself for a few seconds. “Bathroom schedule: first come first serve.”
You nodded, easy enough.
“At a few hours of the day, the living room becomes an at-home gym when needed.”
Okay, that one had a little kick to it. “Alright.”
“And we have a safe word.”
You blinked back at him, heart pounding a little louder than it should, legs clenching as if they were being pried apart, and sweat burning the temple of your forehead with the unnecessarily dirty thoughts running through your mind. “A w-what?”
“A safe word,” he repeated as a matter of fact, “a word we can use when there’s conflict and something wrong and we just completely stop what we’re doing.” He grinned a little. “It’s not just for sex you know.”
You shoved him, earning his chuckle. “I know that, jerk. But fine, what do you suggest?”
“…Tiger.”
“How did I know that’s what you’d say?”
“Because we’re good friends.”
“How about ‘hamster’?”
He frowned. “No.”
“But look how effective that was.”
For the most part, things went smoothly. It helped that things got busy and tasks barely needed to get done with the exception of laundry. You saw each other more in your friend group gatherings than at home in your shared arrangement, and despite everyone knowing you live together, neither of you made it a point to make a big deal about it, even if everyone else does.
The countless times you had to fight Seokmin, Jeonghan, or Jihyo about the possibility of something developing between you and your new roommate romantically pained you with their inaccuracy. It seemed left and right that’s all everyone could talk about since it was arranged. It seemed as if there was nothing better up for discussion. Soonyoung dealt with it all the same, being constantly asked what kind of nefarious doings are being done behind closed doors that no one knows about. It always came as a disappointment when it was broken towards them that nothing was happening and that nothing ever will.
Even to you. Surprising enough.
If you learned anything from living with Soonyoung, it was harder than you expected it to be, especially with a still festering crush that is only developing into something almost tangibly heart-wrenching and stomach churning. It seemed to have taken a turn for the worse when Soonyoung started to take advantage of the home gym more due to the massive heatwave in town. 
The damn pull up bar.
You’ve only realized the time you’ve wasted after hearing the kettle whistle you put out apparently ten minutes ago. Your mind was too clouded by the flex of his biceps lifting his body in the air. Or the contracting and releasing of his shoulders that were lightly misted by perspiration. Or were too preoccupied with wanting to lick off the veins of the poor man’s lower abdomen. Or thinking about what those arms could do flinging you upside a—
“Oh, early class?”
“Uh, yeah. There’s a lot more traffic today, so I'm getting there earlier than usual.” 
His feet landed on the ground with a thud and he grabbed a towel to wipe over the sweat that was making his body glisten like glaze on a smooth buff donut. “I’m guessing you have no time for breakfast then?”
“Unfortunately,” you respond, quickly pouring your tea into your thermos before getting to your shoes, “I was gonna grab something at the Starbucks on campus after.”
“Here.” He tossed something from a box behind him and watched as you flimsily caught it from the front door.
“Oh.” A protein bar, a good one from your experience of raiding his side of the pantry. “Thanks.”
“And cancel all previous engagements. Dinner’s on me tonight.”
You squinted at him, “Why?”
“We’ll have something nice for once tonight,” he grinned, “be home at 8 tonight.”
Soonyoung’s plan for dinner was a free courtesy of Mingyu who found a nice little gig as a sous chef in a trendy place uptown. The whole circle celebrated together and you only got around to knowing after Soonyoung kept you updated on news knowing you’d be too busy to look at the giant groups chat you’re in. You should’ve been appreciative. That should’ve been your first instinct, not…entitlement. Not envious of him making eyes and flirting with the waitres. Not embarrassment for expecting something more from his brazen invite to dinner with you.
So, by then you’ve had a bit to drink. Okay, a lot to drink. Just enough to drink to have you stumbling on the center dance floor that garnered the attention of prying eyes. At that moment, nothing really mattered. You knew where lines lie, but lines eventually blur.
One second, you’re alone swaying to Britney Spears’ “toxic”, another second, Seungcheol’s crotch is up against your ass. It was a nice sentiment since you were definitely craving a bit of attention tonight, although you weren’t sure if you could look your friend in the eye again after that. Fortunately for you, it only got so far until a shapeless, but familiar, body pulled you away from the scene, forcibly putting you away in a bright yellow car. With your many failed protests, they managed to reach the footsteps of your building and finally reached for keys in their front pockets to open up your apartment.
“Hold still. Please…God, I am not sober enough for this.”
“Soonyoung….” You whined like a lost child.
He gripped you tighter by the arm to lock you in place, preventing you from falling. He was used to being taken care for and the grass was not greener on the other side. He has a lot of people he needs to apologize to. “Almost…okay, okay. I’m in. Go. Go shower and sober yourself up.”
You tugged him at the wrist, pulling him towards you. “Shower with me…”
He scoffed, a smug smile forming on his face. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Go before I make you, and I really don’t wanna have to make you.”
“Fineee…”
Logic flew out the window tonight. Not paying it a second thought, you began stripping yourself of your clothes in the middle of the living room, from socks to immediately your shirt. Soonyoung’s eyes nearly shot out of his skull as he scrambled to cover you in your abandoned shirt before it almost hit the ground.
“Undress in the bathroom please.” Even in your intoxicated state, you could feel the tension of his muscles brush against your back, causing the heat to creep up on your skin.
You let yourself melt into him giggling, turning your head back to meet his cautious eyes. “Maybe you’d like to help with that.”
You can see the bit of shock in his eyes, fluttering back to something more composed once he internally reminded himself this was the ramblings of a drunk person. “You really don’t know what you're saying.” He then pushed you inside the restroom, holding the door by its knob, “Shower and brush your teeth. I’m not letting you out until I’m sure you’re done.”
“Soonyoung…”
“Please, just do it.”
Eventually, he finally convinced you to do as he asked and he hears the shower running, but a mere second later a thud follows. You busted out in a fit of pain, slipping on the already wet floor and immediately your roommate comes running in concerned. “What happened?”
He turned his head the second he processed your fallen body on the ground was bare naked. Shower water poured down on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and glistening your body like a wet dream. Your eyes lit up at him in a timid demure, barely covering your intimate parts with your arms and hands. He coughed dramatically, pinching himself to find restraint, and repeated his quarry of concern with avoidant eyes before you pointed out the obvious, “I fell.”
“Hold on to the rails, that’s what they’re for,” he groaned.
“Sorry.”
He sighed, slightly glancing. “Do you need help?”
You shook your head even when he wasn’t looking. “No, I think I’m good.”
“Good. Just be careful and tell me when you’re done.”
And you’re alone again.
You pulled yourself up from your pathetic state and then the warm water run through your features, letting out a loud sigh. You finished up the best you could, ridding yourself of a night full of grime. Grabbing a towel on the rack, you wrapped it around your damp nude before letting Soonyoung know from the other side of the door. He finally let you free from his handmade prison before watching you go scurry to your bedroom in a concoction of drunken embarrassment.
You muttered to yourself scoldings for letting something like that happen, clenching your legs together in bed the moment you hear his round of shower hit the tiles through the thin walls. A groan unexpectedly sounds off abundantly clear, and your shameless thoughts take action while he’s preoccupied. 
Still naked, you let the towel fall to the ground and you crawl under the sheets of your bed, not caring in the slightest about your hair getting your pillows wet. Your hands slowly trail down to your chest, ghosting over your skin until the pads of your fingers finally found what’s between your legs. You moaned at your self-discovery. Filming your fingers with your filthy arousal, a smile derived from self-indulgence shaped on your face. There you let your fingers slide between your folds and you shudder.
Meanwhile, Soonyoung couldn’t get your image out of his head. The glimpse alone was enough to make him think of you in compromising positions. Lips around his angry stiff cock, your tongue sliding against the veins of his shaft. He’d then hear the wet suction, the vibrations of your mouth humming around his skin, moaning his name like the perfect dessert you were. He groaned again to himself, pressing his length against his abdomen, not thinking you’d hear.
But you do. In fact, it’s so coherent, it makes you wet enough seep past your thighs, trailing down your legs. Your fingers plunged in you deeper while the palm of your hand rubbed against the shape of your clit. Your hips heave up from the mattress, pressing deeper into your palm as the image of Soonyoung’s face stayed a constant in your intoxicated head.
Soonyoung could hear your moans through it all, even if you didn’t think they did, and you only further fed his imagination. He braced against the wall behind him, thrusting into his fist with gritted teeth. The squeeze he had on his girth was merciless and all he had to rid of his overwhelming sin. In his head, you batted your pretty eyes back him, trailing your hands over his body, mouth gaping that looked ready to be filled one way or another. He threw his head back, whispering your name softly. “Oh, baby…you look so good swallowing my cock.”
You felt tears soak your eyes, swallowing a desperate breath.“Mmh, fuck…just like that please…”
“Gonna fuck your pretty pussy…” His thrusts roughly pulled himself at his base, clenching the life around it.
“You’re so deep, fuck, you feel so good—“
“You’re gonna make me cum—“
“Shit, I’m gonna cum—“
“Shit—“
“Shit—“
Simultaneously, you both were freed of your tension, a sudden release of breath escaping your lungs. The spilled cum fell at Soonyoung’s feet, melting in the heat of the water before it followed down the drain, while you fell slumped in bed in your own filth. You lazily reached out for your towel to clean the rest of the mess, tore away your dirty sheets, and settled into a tired slumber.
Soonyoung, overwashed with shame, hung his head down as he quietly cursed to himself. He shut off the shower head and reached for his towel. He finally concludes this evening, having taken a load off. There wasn’t much left on his mind that night, only teh thought of wanting it to be over.
The morning comes sooner than you realize and you find yourself at the mercy of a shirtless Soonyoung like most mornings, except this time he wasn’t doing pull-ups. Instead, he walked to you, a vigor to his stride and he decidedly met your eyes, while you were still focused on his body.
“You’re not very good at hiding things,” he said with a knowing smile.
“Soonyoung—“
“Should I just give you what you want? Should I fuck the shit out of you until all I can hear is my name?”
An answer was caught in the tightness of your throat when he lifted you off the ground and instinctively made you wrap your legs around his bare torso. The heat of his body is all you could focus on until he planted you flat on your kitchen counter, parting your legs to reveal the sudden bareness beneath your oversized t-shirt.
He licked his lip, tensing up his abdomen excitedly before he found home between your thighs. Your fingers threaded through his hair, crying out in soft breaths, and pulling his head back to meet his pretty eyes glossed over with lust. 
He mumbled into your skin, specifically one thing. And he said it over again and over again. Unable to make out what he says, you asked him to repeat it more clearly. It was then he rose up to the surface, a sticky sweet sheen of your arousal in his lips before he drew them close to your ear. His breath fanned your skin, shivers running down your spine, and finally what he says makes sense.
“Wake up.”
Your eyes ripped open like the ground beneath you should’ve. You ran a hand over your face, groaning at your own dismay. “What the actual fuck…”
It took a minute for you to pull yourself out of bed, groggy and with a raging headache to blow over throughout the day, only to be met with nearly an identical circumstance you met in your dream. Your roommate’s bare back stared back at you as brightly as the morning sun. You shrunk back at the reminder of your dream, walking on eggshells towards him to reach the fridge. “Morning.”
Soonyoung coughed on his water recognizing your presence, timidly greeting you back.
“Plans today?” You asked.
He nodded, “Yeah, classes in the afternoon.”
The silence couldn’t be more deafening.
“You.”
“Yeah, me too. Will be back at home at 9 after work.”
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
And soon you parted, embarrassed that encountered ever happened.
The rest of the day, there was much of seeing each other like most days, but this particular instance felt there was more of a reason to it. Even when it came around to your mutually available time at lunch, you made the extra effort not to run into him. How could you?
After making a pass on him and making the half-conscious decision of touching yourself to him while he was in the shower?
You’d be insane to go about things as if they were normal. They weren’t. 
When you came home that night, he was home like he always was, yet nowhere in sight. You knew he was home when you noticed his bike locked up where it normally was and shoes placed at the front of the door. You were tempted to call out his name but refrained when you reminded yourself you were yet ready for that confrontation yet.
Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have a choice in the matter as  Soonyoung seemed to be already walking out of his room, shocked to see you actually home despite it being the time you said you’d be home by. “Hey…”
“Hey.” You let your stuff down before heading to the kitchen. “Did you eat yet?”
“Uh, yeah. I got pizza with a few Chan and Seungkwan.”
“Cool. I’m just gonna make myself something real quick.”
“Alright.”
“Did you need something?”
“Hmm?”
You pointed to his door. “You came out of your room.”
“Right,” he quickly scanned the floor before claiming nearly finished bottle of water on the couch's corner table. “W-water. I got thirsty.”
Obviously, it was an excuse, but you weren’t going to point it out with your lack of backbone. “Okay, well, I’m out here if you need anything.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Before he retreated back to the room, a halt was squeezed out of your throat, catching him in his eager steps. He turned to you with unfocused eyes, hard swallowing in an attempt to calm himself down. “What is it?”
“I need to get this off my chest. Yesterday…I’m really sorry for everything yesterday.”
He sighed. That’s what all that was? “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Also. Shit, um. I don’t know why I’m saying this because it's not like it matters. Well, it does a little bit. It could totally come off wr—“
“Hey,” he interrupted, “I doubt it’s as big a deal as your making it out to be, and I’m okay with not knowing.”
“But you should know actually.” You steadily approached him, letting out an exaggerated exhale. “Yesterday, you were showering and I don’t know what got over me. Well, I was drunk, so I guess there was that bit. Anyway, I heard you, you know, and I guess I—“
“Touched yourself when I was in the shower?”
You shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. “Okay, we’re getting right into it, but yeah. It just felt weird not telling you, I just—“
“You knew I was masturbating?”
“Well, yeah? It was obvious if I’m being honest. Not the point. I invaded your privacy and indulged in it. I don’t know, maybe it’s been a while since…I just want to apologize.”
“For what, overhearing me whack myself off,” he took a step closer, eyes a lot like your dream meeting yours, “or for cumming to the thought of me?”
You breathed out through your nose. In and out. Your eyes for the life of you could not stay steady. “B-both?”
“If we’re being honest here, I should come clean too, shouldn’t I?”
Your hand steadied on the couch, almost letting the force of gravity pull you down along with your sanity, but tried maintaining eye contact as if that would change the dynamic even a little bit. “About what?”
Soonyoung finally found the humor in the situation to smile, one that caused the stagger in your step. “About how your face would come up when I touched myself in the shower.”
“Soonyoung—“
“You can be mad at me, but I won't be mad at you for doing the same thing I did. I don’t regret it because that was the best orgasm I’ve had in mon—“
You silenced his lips with your own, launching you into him until all you felt was the heat of his furnace of a body. His hands claimed the small of your back before pressing your curves into his hollows. He received your lips feverishly, moving against you as if in heated debate, and crashed your body into the furniture closest to you. 
“Didn’t know you were this eager,” he mumbled, “you should've told me.”
Your hand gripped his hair, your teeth taking his bottom lip between and pulling, emitting illicit whines that filled your stomach with warmth. Your leg propped to his side, embracing him hungrily there wasn’t even space to breathe. His hips knocked back into you, his bulge grinding against your clothed heat as he arched you over the back of the couch.
“You’re a bit mean. I like that.” He giggled.
“Shut up,” you mumbled.
“May I remind you, you kissed me.”
“And I can back out right this second.”
“Oh, but we can’t have that,” he utilized his upper strength to lift you off the ground looped tightly around his torso, a gasp leaving your lips. You reunite with his eyes that are now leveled with yours. You’ve looked into them before but it shocked you with how dark they are, how earnest they look. “You see it, don't you? How much I want you? I see it in your eyes too.”
“T-this a tactic you use on all people you sleep with?”
He shook his head. “Just you, and only because I really want you.”
Your hand planted against his cheek, the curve of your palm hugging his jaw. His breath hitches from the mere tenderness in your eyes. His body has ever only told him he was you carnally and raw, but that gaze. If he would just bottle that gaze and show off like a trophy.
Your hand crawled over to the nape of his neck, there your digits ran up his hair, pushing him innately close to yours, and you whispered cautiously, “We can never tell the others.”
“I’ll take this to my grave if it’s what you want.”
You nodded. “Good boy.”
He transported you to his room, dropping you on his mattress with him to follow. Your lips stay glued together a perfect mold, tongue clashing in a union that you’ve only even dreamt of having. Soonyoung only briefly pulled away to reveal his torso. He was firm, flushed to the touch, and heaving under the heat of your palm.
You gasped as he pressed his body against your touch, smiling against your skin as he asked if you liked what you were seeing. All you could do was nod, somehow lost in the trance that you never wanted to escape. His mouth took your neck, roaming starved as his hands undressed you down to your underwear.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” He slipped you out from your sleeves and made skin contact. Chest to chest, waist to waist, hips to hips. You sense his want through touch alone and for once being wrong felt so incredibly right. What a relief to know, he felt what you did. “I never wanted someone this badly before.”
“Soonyoung…”
He nipped your neck, teeth scratching against your skin. “You say my name like that, I’ll have no choice but to ruin you. Be careful around me. Or don’t. I’d show you a good time either way.”
“You’re—mmp—such a…ah—s-sweet talker.” You could hardly talk back. He made love to your skin as if he’d done it before, touching every pressure of your body like a skilled lover, both attentively yet without remorse.
“I’m only saying what I’ve been thinking. Like how desperate I am to feel myself between your thighs.” He tugged down your underwear to your feet and let the fall to the ground, allowing your legs to hook around him. “Or how your lips taste like caramel coffee, the candy you eat every time you need a ‘pick me up.’”
“You pay attention to that?” You asked, fiddling over the button of his pants.
“I don’t make an effort to, I just do.” He found your hands, aiding you in your efforts, soon you heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor. He held your gaze still, guiding your hand over his hard cock, taking from the base up to the shaft. You swallowed memorizing his shape, his length, his weight. There was so much you wanted to be able to share with this part of him alone. “Now it’s your turn to pay attention to me.”
Your lips stretched over your cheeks. “What makes you think I don’t?” 
You trace over something particular with your other hand, something that bulges at you even with his pants on. You lifted yourself to sit up, folding your calves behind your thighs. Stroking his length with one hand, you admire your veins leading down his lap with the other. “I’ll have you know, my patience is admirable. It took a lot within me to blatantly ignore these pretty veins you have on your stomach.”
“Someone’s never called them that before,” he chuckled, “no one’s even acknowledged them before.”
“I guess no one’s been privileged enough to see them as often as I do. Lucky me.” You thumbed over the blue, scrapping over its stroke as you lowered your head and your lips wrapped around the head. You covered his underside, tugging  your lips around him, and watching his jaw drop lower when you began covering more of his length.
“I’m the lucky one,” he acknowledged, his hand dropping to the crown of your head before caressing the length of your hair. “You should see how good you look sucking my dick right now. I’m never gonna see this image without wanting to cum on the spot.”
You steadied yourself at his hips, tongue gliding over the underside, and you hugged your cheeks tighter around his girth. Eyes fluttered back at him, and you wretched to take more of him, already felt him hit the back of your throat. When you heard him moan, it fed you more encouragement, giving your best efforts to fit all of him. You coughed at the tightness in your throat but remained resilient. The vicious substance of your saliva coated him from tip to base as your hand stroked him repeatedly, pushing him deeper into you until your vision grew weary. 
Soonyoung told you to take it slow, stroking the back of your head with a gentle hand. You inhaled him for as long as you could, the sounds of your efforts growing dim the deeper he made it past your mouth. Ultimately, tears ran down your cheeks, oxygen cut from your airways, and you felt no choice but to pull him out, resting his cock between your fingertips as you gasped for breath.
That breath was quickly stolen when Soonyoung dived in to claim it, his body caging yours. His weight against yours was comforting, enticing, addicting. He moaned your name sweetly like a song, and it filled your stomach with embers of desire. “You’re so hot…I’d make you do that again if I wasn’t worried about killing you.”
You pathetically scoffed in an attempt to cover up discomfort. “That? Pff, I’m fine.”
He grinned, kissing you long and deep. “You’re so cute when you lie. I’ll make sure to return the favor now.”
Pulling at your thighs, he dragged them towards him, barely touched your eager heat, and his twitch urging you to pull him close. He leaned over somewhere behind you to tear open a condom, rolling it over himself. As he drew closer, so did you, feeling the inviting head of his cock glide over your wet cunt, you trembled in thought. Soonyoung, just—
“Put it in me.”
“Now, now. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled cheekily.
“Soonyoung,” You whined.
Your impatience is rewarded when he plunged himself in slowly, but completely, embracing the stretch of your walls as he filled you out. “So…needy...”
His initial thrust is deep, strong, and then he landed another, quickly adjusting to the plush of your pussy. You held your thighs back to your chest, and spread your legs wide for him. Your pretty lips weren’t shy with praising him, asking him for more of his pretty cock, and earning just as you ask. “You’re mind-numbing, shit…what a good fucking pussy…”
“Your cock’s so g-good in me…you feel so good inside me, Soonyoung…”
“Fuck, say my name like that again.”
He flipped you on your stomach, pressing his fingers into your as he found his pace from behind you, ramming into you until your cunt has tasted every inch of his cock. You gasped as his hand maneuvered you to push back against him, like a toy to be played with he used every bit of you, your energy, your sexuality, and he embraced it. You felt amazing. 
“Soonyoung, I’m—ah—I’m gonna cum.”
“You’re gonna cum around my cock? Hmm? Is that it? My cock fucking you that good?”
You bit into his cheeks nodding, in the urge to respond before the wave of arousal crashed into you. You were clenching your stomach as his name came in tidal waves, grinding towards him to prologue the high. Loudly, you cursed, balling the sheets underneath you into fists. 
Soonyoung nodded proudly, the shaky view of your body trembling beneath him fuels his ego and it’s not long before he orgasms, filling the condom until it nearly burst. He pulled out of you finally, quickly discarding the trash before he joined you in bed, hugging your fatigued body to his side and there was silence. Only silence.
And breathing. Mainly Soonyoung’s. And that went on for a good fifteen minutes until someone spoke again.
“I’m glad I waited for that.”
You looked up at your roommate curiously, the smile on his face felt warmer every time you saw it. “What was that?”
He met your gaze, hand softly moving over your hair. “I feel like I’ve gotten closer to you. I always wanted that.”
“Really?”
He nodded, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Who knew sex would make us closer friends?”
Your body ran cold, in the distance you could hear the shattering of glass far off from reality. You stayed frozen under his touch as he embraced you closer to his naked body, hooking his chin over your neck. “We should do this again. I wouldn’t mind getting used to this.”
That’s what you were scared of. Getting used to this. To this arrangement. To the sensation of his cock inside you. To the sense that it’d never be more than you hoped it would be. You’d never have Soonyoung be yours, but you knew somehow you’d always be his.
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ellecdc · 3 months
Text
A Man With a Plan.1
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: mentions of bullying - only one description of it, but it's chill cuz James tells them to fuck off like the king he is? Descriptions of werewolf behaviour idk. Use of Y/N
Synopsis: Remus planned to never fall in love. Moony had other plans.
“Don’t you think she’s just the loveliest thing, Moons?” James spoke in reverence.
Remus needn’t move his gaze from his book to know that Lily Evans just walked into the library – so he didn’t. 
“Sure is, James.”
“Don’t be getting any ideas though.” James said as he nudged his friend. He was clearly trying to go for light and breezy, but Remus caught the nervous twinge in his voice.
“You truly have nothing to worry about, Prongs.” He muttered.
“What? Don’t like birds?” James asked, though he was still watching Lily make her way over to her friends.
“Who doesn’t like birds?” Sirius questioned as he appeared out of nowhere, swatting Remus’ feet off a neighbouring chair and taking the seat for himself.
“Remus, apparently.” Peter answered from behind his book.
Remus finally lowered his book to regard his friends. “That is not what I said.”
“He said he doesn’t like Lily.” James told Sirius, finally turning his attention away from this girl to look at his mate like can you believe this guy?
“I literally just said I agreed that she was lovely.” Remus guffawed.
“If you think she’s so lovely, why don’t you go ask her out then?” Sirius asked with a smirk, causing James to let out a strangled groan. 
“What! No, common that’s like, against the bro code. Oh! Hi Y/N!” James cut himself off as he spotted you entering the library.
“Hello, James.” You greeted serenely as you started towards him. “What has your aura so pink today?”
This caused both Sirius and Remus’ eyebrows to cock, though neither of them interrupted yours and James’ interaction. 
“We were just talking about how lovely Lily is.” James answered solemnly.
“Yes, I suppose that would do it.” You answered as you turned to follow James’ gaze. 
“It’s funny, her aura turns the same colour when she looks at you. I wonder what that could mean.” You said softly, completely missing the way James’ head reared back.
“Well, I must be off. I’ve been trying to check out a book all week, but each time I’ve come to the library I’ve ended up distracted trying to clear the nargles from the shelves. The library is just full of them!” 
Your voice was feather light as you bid a simple goodbye to James who returned it with an easy smile before you floated away.
James turned from your retreating form to see the bemused faces of his friends, sans Peter who still hadn’t raised his head from his book.
“What was that?” Sirius finally asked.
“What was what?” James asked as he furrowed his brows. “Y/N?”
“Since when are you friends with her?” Sirius continued.
“We have care of magical creatures together. She’s tutoring me, actually. She’s really quite nice.” James said as he picked up his own forgotten textbook.
Sirius, still not able to let it go, added, “She’s an odd little bird, isn’t she?” 
James only shook his head. “She’s harmless. People give her a harder time than she deserves.” 
“Perhaps...” Remus acquiesced. “But what the hell is a nargle?” 
“Oh, not a clue.” James answered simply before beginning to work on his Ancient Runes translation.
Remus and Sirius exchanged one more look before moving to their own homework.
It’s not that Remus didn’t know who you were – Hogwarts wasn’t a big enough school to not know the other students in your own year – but there had never been any interactions between your circles of friends. Namely, Remus’ friends and whoever you happened to hang out with never seemed to intertwine. Remus had to assume you had friends – even he had friends, and he was a monster – but he had no idea who they could be. 
Remus had to admit you were a cute little thing, if a little odd as Sirius said. James could be a lot of things, but he always saw the best in people; so, it really shouldn’t have surprised Remus that James had made a friend of you. 
What Remus didn’t yet know was what your newfound friendship with James would mean for him.
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“So, what do we think? Does Lily here have some competition?” Marlene joked with a wicked grin as she threw her arm across Lily’s shoulders at the Gryffindor table.
“Competition for what?” Sirius asked around a mouthful of eggs from his spot across from Peter and Remus.
“James, of course.” Dorcas clarified.
Lily groaned. “I was never competing.”
“I mean, who needs tutoring in care of magical creatures? Don’t you just like, show up and feed them? Seems like a ruse to me.” Mary chuckled from her place.
Peter leaned into Remus before adding. “Does seem a little weird that James needs help in care of magical creatures, seeing as that’s exactly what he does once a month.”
Remus nearly choked on his tea before regaining his composure. Apparently, he hadn't regained it quickly enough. 
“What’s so funny over there?” Lily asked as she narrowed her teasing-filled eyes at the two offending boys.
“Nothing at all, Evans. But trust me when I say you have absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to the future Mr. Evans-Potter.” He responded easily. All the mirth left Lily’s face as she turned her gaze towards her breakfast, but both Peter and Remus noticed the faint blush dusting her cheeks. 
It was surprising to all, although not surprising at all (I mean, come on, James has been at this for seven years – it was bound to come about eventually), that Lily was slowly beginning to warm up to James’ advances. It probably helped that they were head girl and boy this year, it also probably helped that James was less annoying about it and far more polite with his advances, and it also probably helped that the rest of Lily’s friends really quite liked James. 
As if summoned, James accompanied by Lily’s competition, entered the Great Hall together. 
“I’d really like that, Y/N. Thank you!” James could be heard saying as the two of you approached his friends.
“It’s really no problem, James. I’m sure they’d love to have more visitors.” You responded softly. Remus noticed your smile was just as soft as your voice; he thought it was lovely. 
What the fuck? Stop thinking people are lovely, you git. He scolded himself immediately. 
“Who’s this little birdie introducing you to, Prongsie?” Sirius asked as he shot a salacious wink your way.
You furrowed your brows at him in confusion.
“Birdie?” You asked James softly. He smiled kindly as he turned to you. “A nickname, Y/N. The way Sirius just said it could be taken as a compliment.” 
“Or an insult if you don’t appreciate such brazen flirting.” Dorcas added which earned her an elbow to the ribs from said flirt. 
“Anyway,” James interjected, looking towards you somewhat awkwardly. “Y/N here was helping me study facts about thestrals when she told me she has befriended a wild herd not far from Hogwarts. She said she’d take me to meet them.”
“Meet thestrals? Can you even see thestrals, Prongsie?” Sirius asked inquisitively. 
“There are other ways to enjoy the presence of beings without being able to see them.” You offered simply, your tone remaining nothing but kind even as you corrected him. Remus couldn’t help but smile at you.
Stop smiling, dumbass. He mentally berated himself.
“Quite right. I’d like to try feeding them and petting them.” James said with a level of finality. “If you think they’ll let me.” He added hastily as he turned to you.
You offered the git a soft smile and patted his arm placatingly. “I’m sure they will, James. In fact, I think your voice might be the perfect hertz; the thestrals will love your lower tones.”   
The majority of the group just furrowed their brows at you, but Marlene began to cackle. 
“Oh, sweetheart. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She said as she wiped a non-existent tear from below her eyes.
James’ eyes turned stormy as he locked his gaze on Marlene, but his voice remained somewhat relaxed as he addressed you. “Thanks again, Y/N. I’ll see you in class.” 
You smiled politely at him before making your way over to your house table.
“How ironic is it that such a ditz was sorted into the house that values learning, wisdom, wit, and intellect.” She snorted, either missing James’ glare or ignoring it entirely. 
“Marlene, I love you, you’re one of my best friends, we grew up together, you’re my sister from another mister, I would die for you.” he started, making sure she was looking at him before proceeding. “Do not make fun of my friends.”
Remus was certain his eyebrows had flown right off his forehead as he exchanged a look with his friends. Sirius and Peter seemed to be in agreement that they’d never seen James so stern as he sat down beside Sirius and started filling his plate. Unbeknownst to the boys, Lily was looking at James with a small smirk a look of respect from her end of the bench. 
“So, boys,” James began, “I was thinking, for our next brilliant prank...”
And just like that, James was back to planning pranks with the Marauders as if he hadn’t just blown the entire Gryffindor table’s minds. 
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The rest of the month went about the same; you and James could be found around the castle together, which Sirius was more than happy to take the piss about, and none of James’ friends made fun of you anymore - genuinely fearing James’ wrath ever since he hexed some Hufflepuffs who made a passing comment about you one day. 
Remus didn’t think you noticed any of it, however; at least it didn’t appear that way. He found that quite remarkable. He found you quite remarkable.
He hated that. 
It’s not that Remus was a prude, but he didn’t like liking you. It made him feel icky – out of control, like he didn’t have a say in any of it. Casual hookups were much more easy and comfortable for him, it was easy to roll over the next morning, say thanks, and carry on like nothing.
But just sharing a small nod of acknowledgment with you made him giddy. 
He hated that.
He certainly hadn’t agreed to liking you – he had rules. Rules like – having sex with someone was fine, having feelings for someone was not. And he didn’t want to have sex with you!
Okay, that’s not necessarily true.
He didn’t not want to have sex with you, but that’s not what drew him to you. You seemed ethereal; otherworldly; perhaps a touch too pure.
Certainly, too pure for a werewolf.
Which is why he had rules in the first place; he would not allow someone to get tangled up in his curse of a life, to suffer through loving someone as awful as him. It was painful enough being Remus, he wasn’t going to curse someone to loving him. 
So, Remus made a plan: he would ignore this friendship between you and James and pretend like you didn’t exist, only being as polite as humanly possible to stay within James’ good graces. 
That plan was fucked to shit in potions. 
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff 7th year class was finishing up as the Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s entered for their own class. Remus inwardly sighed as he spotted you across the room heading for the ingredient supply cupboard. Remus sighed again when some of your fellow housemates chuckled watching you struggle to carry the many ingredients on your own, none of which offered to help. 
“Oh! Are you headed to the supply closet? Mind taking these too?” A snarky little witch (Remus replaced that W with a B in his mind) said as she placed another vial on top of your load without waiting for your response. 
Remus had to give you credit, however, as all you did was smile kindly as you reconfigured the many vials and jars in your arms. 
Remus sighed outwardly, and loudly, as he made his way to follow you into the supply closet.
“Here, let me help you with that.” He muttered somewhat petulantly like he hadn't just volunteered his help unprompted as he relieved you of some vials and jars.
You looked at him with a face of surprise which quickly morphed into one of gratitude. Remus loved hated it.
“Thank you, Remus. That’s very kind of you.” You all but sung to him. Your voice sounded like angels. Fuck. 
Remus scoffed. “Not quite as nice as you, cleaning up for everyone else.” He muttered somewhat darkly.
You bobbed your head back-and-forth noncommittally. “Oh, I don’t mind so much. They do plenty for me in return.”
He turned to you, genuinely interested to hear what exactly those knob heads ever did for you. “Like what?”
You smiled to yourself as you continued placing ingredients in their rightful homes. “Well, they’re always keeping me on my toes by hiding my things around the castle. They must know how much I enjoy a good treasure hunt.”
Remus’ hand stopped in midair as he watched you continue to work. Did he hear you right? Did you actually believe these people were being kind? Did you think of those people as your friends?
“Or perhaps they don’t know that. Then in that case, I suppose the joke would be on them.” You said plainly as you turned your attention back to Remus, offering him a slightly pursed smile – like you were trying to hide the full extent of your joy at the thought, though the dimple that appeared on your left cheek gave you away.
It actually surprised a bark of laughter from him as he forced his hand to resume its task. “I suppose so.” He concurred. 
Remus heard a small tinkling sound and a gentle ‘oh’ escape your lips as a vial rolled into his foot. You both bent down to pick it up, but Remus was faster. As he went to hand you the offending vial, your fingers brushed gently.
For Remus, you may as well have set off a bomb.
Remus swore he felt every neuron in his body firing at the same time, his blood cells turned to lava and his veins turned to ice, his feet felt like they were fully rooted to the dungeon floor below him while his heart thrummed and took off in flight from his body. 
And through all of this, Moony was going feral. 
“Pack. Pack. Pack. Pack. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE.”
Remus ripped his hand away from you like it burned – and in some ways it did – but the newfound space between your beings seemed to hurt even more. 
Remus’ chest was heaving, and his heart was going a mile a minute while Moony continued howling inside of his head. He could barely hear the classroom behind him through the blood rushing in his ears.
Remus could count many worst parts about this whole experience, but at this very moment, the worst part was your face.
Your head was cocked to the side like a confused cocker spaniel as your brows furrowed ever so slightly. You peered at Remus with a concerned gaze and your entire being just oozed kindness and understanding.
As if you could understand the clamoring of the 13-year-old werewolf living inside his brain screaming at him to lunge at you, bow down to you, fold you up and put you in his pocket, to crack open his ribcage and place you inside of him for eternity. What the fuck was wrong with him!?
“Are you alright, Remus?” You asked, so, so, so softly. In fact, you said it so softly that Remus was sure if Moony hadn’t just decided to dial into the exact channel of your frequency, he would have missed it completely. 
“Yes.” He breathed as he shook his head no. “No. I don’t know. I-”
You nodded sympathetically, as if Remus had said anything coherent at all. “That’s alright.”
Remus willed his lungs to take a deep breath. Because, was it really? Was it really alright? Because it sort of felt like Remus was dying; like his life was over as he knew it. 
“Ah, Miss. L/N, you should be off to your next class now, quickly. Mr. Lupin, please take your seat.” Mr. Slughorn said, poking his head briefly into the supply cupboard before retreating in much the same way.
You nodded politely at the teacher before offering Remus a smile.
“Thank you again for your help, Remus.” You said gently as you moved past him to retrieve your bag before exiting the classroom. Remus Moony wanted to follow you, begged to follow you. He could still smell you – you were everywhere. Fuck, Remus needs to shower.
Remus leaned his head against the cool stone of the dungeon walls. “What’s happening to me?” He moaned miserably to himself.
If only he knew. 
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Continue to chapter two here.
Taglist: @hanniejji
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luveline · 10 months
Note
Do you think maybe you could do a quick Miguel fic of him being supportive/comforting to spider-girl cause she’s been working too hard and stretched herself a bit thin trying to make everyone happy? I’ve read all your Miguel stories and it feels like it fits LMAO (I love love love all of your stuff btw you’re one of my fav Miguel writers)
thank you for your request! grumpy miguel comforts a tired spidergirl. 1.2k
Miguel doesn't bother looking down at the thwipping sound of a web connecting with the platform. You're the only person he knows well enough, who knows him well enough, to come up without asking. 
"Woah," you say, pulling yourself onto the platform with altogether too much force, taking a running stumble at him as you try to keep your balance. 
Miguel puts a hand out to catch you without looking away from his screen. "Careful." 
"Thanks, handsome," you croon, though it's missing its signature pep. 
Miguel does look up, then, dragging his attention from the monitors to rake it over you. You have your mask on, which is odd but not unheard of, and your posture is tight. The majority of your weight is being held on one foot, and when he follows your leg upward, your thigh is curving outward. How weird. 
You pull away from him gently and shimmy over to the desk you've stolen, a mountain of your things that topples intermittently lying in wait for your return. As soon as you approach, the flying droid you take on missions whizzes into the air and dances around your shoulders, not unlike the way you move yourself. 
"Come over here," Miguel says. 
"No," you say primly, "you're in a strange mood." 
"You've been here for two seconds," he says. If he were in a strange mood, it's not as if you could've already gathered that from so little observation. 
"Yeah, and you're not usually eager to have me near," you say. True and untrue. 
"Come here." 
You sigh and approach him as though he's dragging you, reeling you in, every footstep heavier than the last. Miguel grabs you by the shoulders when you're close and stations you neatly in front of him, thumb quick to find the seam of your mask and slide beneath. 
You squint at the sudden light of the room, unmasked, though your expression quickly relaxes. "You want to kiss me," you guess, saccharine sweet as you tilt your chin upwards. 
Miguel dodges your feigned kiss. You aren't wrong about what he wants, but you haven't identified his main priority, which is to find out why you'd been wearing the mask in the first place, and why you're walking like your converse shoes are full of cement. 
You're very, very tired, evidently. You look exhausted. Miguel has seen you run down before, you stretch yourself thin often, and you do it without complaint, but this is a new level. His heart actually hurts in his chest, he's that gutted for you. 
Miguel glares at you. "What, you're not sleeping?" 
"Oh, don't, handsome," you say, moving as though you're going to walk away. 
Miguel takes your face into his hand and keeps you where you are. "Hey, answer me." 
"Of course I'm sleeping," you say. You won't meet his eyes. Liar. "You're a tyrant." 
Be that as it may, Miguel wants what's best for you. He draws a line under your dark circles with the pad of his thumb, feeling the puffy skin regretfully. Carefully, so carefully, he traces the line of a tear unshed from the corner of your eye to the corner of your lips. 
"Not enough, then." 
You look at him funny. Your bottom lip twitches, and every ounce of his cool dissipates as you frown and lean forward, pressing your face to his chest. 
"I'm busy," you confess in a murmur, your arms hanging loosely around his waist.
Miguel takes it for I'm really tired. He hesitates, looking down at you, your smaller stature, feeling the weight your letting him hold up for the trust it is. You're tired and you're telling him, even though he had to prod. 
Miguel hugs your shoulders. You sag like a popped balloon. 
"I'm busy," he says, though he amends quickly at the sudden rigidness of your back under his hands, "I'm busy, and I still sleep. You have to sleep." 
"If I want to… to make time for me, I keep staying up late, you know? I've been training, and helping Hobie Brown take down the establishment–"
"What?" 
"–and I was trying to make that cover for your wristband but I keep getting it wrong." You stop suddenly. Your hand screws tighter into his front, fingers digging ineffectual against nanotechnology. "I'm useless, even when I try." 
"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly.
"I can't get things right. I want to do everything. I want to get better at fighting so I can come with you. I want to be a good friend to Hobie. I want to make you things 'cos you deserve them. I'm sorry. I just make everything worse."
Miguel let's you wallow for a moment. He's no stranger to self-loathing. It can feel good to simmer. He rubs your back inchingly slowly, not sure why he's letting himself, not sure why he's holding back. 
Miguel takes your shoulders into his hands and eases you back, ducking his head to meet your eyes. Forcing you to listen. "You don't make anything worse. You're tired, and being tired makes everything feel worse than it is. You're not the problem." 
Your cheek lists down to your shoulder. "You're being nice." 
"You don't have as much effect on things as you think," he says, ducking his head again to look you straight in the eye. "I mean that in a good way. You aren't hurting anyone. You can say no." 
"I don't want to say no." 
"You have to." He's tipping into tenderness now, plummeting fast and hard. "You need to look after yourself if you want to look after other people," he says. He wonders if what he's about to say is fair, but he's so unhappy with your obvious rampant fatigue that he decides he can live with the bad karma. "What if I need you to come with me to the next anomaly recovery? And you're too tired to stand? You'd have me go by myself?" 
"No." 
"Exactly, so do the right thing and sleep." Miguel says it simply, pulling away, pulling back, physically and emotionally. He likes you more than he should but being vulnerable is difficult. He hides behind a facade —your problem is ridiculous, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. 
You see straight through him. Hear the unsaid please. "I will. I'll go to bed… Thank you, Miguel." 
The facade slips as Miguel gives your bicep a warm squeeze. He turns away from you without another word, redirecting his attention on the screens, your presence like a thrumming he has to fight to ignore. 
"Bye, handsome," you say, stepping sideways off of the platform. He relaxes at the sound of a web sticking and your footsteps as they lead away. 
He rubs the bridge of his nose. 
"Inspiring," Lyla says, appearing from nowhere, a delighted, smarmy smile flickering across her face.
"That is getting so old," Miguel complains.
"Deprogram me, then." 
"Would if I could." 
"Ah, but then who would witness your frankly embarrassing attempts at comfort?" 
Miguel tries to catch her like a moth. She scoffs and leaps between his fingers. 
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Request for basically the shrunken down s/o incident but with the Fontaine girls (Lynette, Furina and Navia) and March 7th from HSR
(Genshin Impact/H:SR) Lynette, Furina, Navia, and March 7th with their S/O being shrunk
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Lynette picks up S/O, gently, staring at them curiously as her ears twitched.
(Lynette) "What happened?"
(S/O) "How am I supposed to know? And why are you picking me up by my shirt like I'm a cat?!"
Her tail swished for a brief moment, giving away her amusement.
(Lynette) "I'm not sure."
As funny as she finds it, she immediately finds every contact she knows to figure out what was going on with S/O.
All the while, Lynette had a hat on, with S/O underneath it.
She would have left them at home, but considering there were cats everywhere, that was not a good idea.
Once she learned that they would return to normal after a few days, she has them in her hands 24/7.
(Lynette) "...You're cute when you're bite sized like this."
(S/O) "I am NOT a cat toy, Lynette."
She's mildly concerned, but as long as she was watching over, nothing would happen.
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Furina laughs at the sight of her pocket sized loved one.
(Furina) "What a splendid trick! Since when could you perform such a logic defying ability?"
(S/O) "N-Never!"
(Furina) "Hah!....Ha...Oh, you're serious."
Her smile vanishes quickly as she scoops up S/O into her hands.
(Furina) "Fear not my tiny beloved, for nothing will bring you harm!"
(S/O) "I-I'm not sure I trust you to handle me carefully!"
(Furina) "Nonsense! Come, we shall find Neuvilette to cure you of this!"
Which she learned, this cannot be cured, at least not instantly.
They would just have to wait it out.
Well, it's a good thing Furina is not beholden to anyone, as she sits at home and watches S/O.
She has tiny water familiars the size of S/O play around with them to pass the time.
(S/O) "I feel like I'm in an aquarium right now..."
(Furina) "Oh, is that something you'd like to go to?"
(S/O) "When I'm this size, no. I feel like you'd feed me to the fish."
(Furina) "Why do you have no faith in me, my dear?"
S/O stared at the fish currently circling them.
(Furina) "Playing with you, and using you as fish food are quite different things!"
(S/O) "But I bet you're wanting to see what happens with your vision, aren't you?"
(Furina) "N-No!"
(S/O) "..."
(Furina) "...Maybe a little-"
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Navia blushes slightly at the small S/O currently on her table.
(Navia) "You're...SO CUTE!"
(S/O) "Not the word I would've chosen-"
Navia makes them yelp as she scoops them into her hand and rubs them against her cheek.
(Navia) "SO TINY! Oh my gosh, you're adorable!...W-Wait, how did you get that way?!"
Navia rushes around like a madwoman, trying to find a cure or someone who knows about this kind of thing.
Meanwhile, S/O has a full bodyguard detail outside their room, and around the table they're on.
(S/O) "Alright, even you have guys have to admit this is a little overkill."
(Bodyguard) "S/O, you know better than any of us that trying to reign Miss Navia in is a fool's errand."
(S/O) "...Fair point."
Once she learns that the duration will run its course for the next few days, she spends this time creating the smallest macarons in existence, solely for S/O.
She has them use dollhouse furniture so they have somewhere to sleep and eat.
(S/O) "You're having fun with this aren't you?"
(Navia) "Well, I can't say this is the worst thing we've done together!"
(S/O) sigh "Well, thank you anyway for taking care of me."
(Navia) "Oh please. I'd do this even if you were normal height!"
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March 7th stares silently at the tiny S/O standing on her bed, looking panicked at their predicament.
(March 7th) "..."
SNAP!
(S/O) "D-DID YOU JUST TAKE A PICTURE OF ME!?"
(March 7th) "You're right!"
She immediately gets in frame of her phone to take a selfie with her tiny S/O.
(March 7th) "Okay, NOW let's see what the heck is happening!"
Of all the people to tell her S/O's affliction, it was Pom-Pom.
And that this wouldn't last more than a few days at worst.
Thank the Aeons.
That meant March could live this up!
The entire time, March is taking pictures of S/O, giggling lightly.
(S/O) "For the record, if this happens to you-"
(March 7th) "Then I'll be as adorably pint-sized as you!"
(S/O) "You can at least show a little more concern!"
(March 7th) "I am! It's why no one else is allowed in this room! I bet Caelus would use you to go dumpster diving."
S/O shuddered at the thought, the smell was already bad but being this small...
(March 7th) "You're much better as a paperweight!"
Despite her teasing and carefree nature, there was truth to her words.
She violently rejects entry for ANYONE to go into her room while S/O is in this state because she's worried.
But, this would be a fond memory down the line she felt!
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crystalflygeo · 8 months
Text
Morning coffee? Morning tea... ft Neuvillette + fem!reader
cw/tags: this is just SUPER tender and vanilla sex ngl. Pet names (in french!!! <3) dirty talking if you squint?? itty bit of somno maybe? idk how to tag this y'all just smut with feelings.
notes: HI I DISAPPEARED AND COME BACK TO OFFER YOU NEUVILLETTE. I love him so much, I am down horrendous I love him I love him I love him AAAAAAAAAAAAA. The self control I had to practice not to make him speak full sentences in french lmao.
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The room is dark and silent as you shift on the bed, yawning. You blink drowsily and realize you were asleep, only dreaming of Neuvillette’s soft touch, the brush of his hair, his gentle kisses and nuzzling, reserved only for private settings. You roll over and rub at your face, but the bed is empty.
Hm? Where is your husband?
It is very rare for Neuvillette to leave like this, unannounced. He’d always give you a kiss, hushed whispers telling you he has some business to attend to before slipping out of the room. Sometimes he doesn’t want to wake you and leaves a note instead, but now as you look around, albeit half-asleep, there is nothing…
Did something happen? You frown.
His side of the bed is still warm though, his essence lingers in the room, on your skin. He was definitely here not too long ago. The familiar scent of his cologne teases your nose and you decide to burrow into his pillow to chase it, hugging the soft thing wishing it was him.
Today was a day off, there was no need to worry about work or other responsibilities. Though you suppose Fontaine’s Iudex’s responsibilities never end…
You sigh and cling tighter onto the pillow, closing your eyes and desperately trying to recapture the essence of that dreamy state, sliding deeper under the warm comforter and rolling onto your side in the middle of the bed, slipping into memories of the night prior.
Neuvillette’s deep voice, the delightful sparks of electricity as his hands roamed your body and that feeling of being so full, complete and sated as he slid deep inside you from behind.
Oh, how you love him. Always so reverent with his affections.
Somewhere between the reminiscence of a high pitched voice you barely recognize as your own moaning his name, and Neuvillette’s low tantalizing whispers as he urges you to come all over his cock, you barely register the soft click of the door.
The subconscious is a funny thing and part of you wonders how can he be there and in your little fantasy at the same time.
Deep in the middle of your struggle between here and there, there is a soft rustle of fabric, and then the sharp clink of porcelain coming from the bedside table, sounds that pull you back from the drowsiness.
“Hmmm… Neuv?”
The bed dips slightly with his weight, and a soft caress at your hair has you stirring a little. The covers sliding off your skin and Neuvillette’s appreciative groan upon seeing your naked figure spread out before him brings you almost alert.
You feel the warmth of him sliding into bed behind you, his hair tickling at your cheek and his breath at your shoulder as he nuzzles here, planting a soft kiss. Strong arms circling your waist as he pulls your closer, your hips slotting together.
And then you hear him, in that husky smooth voice you’ve come to crave. “Ma chérie.” He beckons, soft and low in your ear. “Ma belle…” Your name velvet on his lips. Large hands shifting your body, maneuvering until you lay on your back. “Mon amour.”
You let out a soft sound of acknowledgement and he chuckles.  
Eyes still closed you tilt your head towards his shoulder, seeking to curl up to his chest and cuddle, but instead you feel his weight shift on the bed again. You whine and a tiny speck inside your head is ready to cry out for him not to leave, but before you can form a coherent sentence you suddenly feel him on top of you, his larger frame caging you, long locks sliding off his back and firm hands taking hold of your thighs, coaxing them to part.
“Let me take care of you, ma chérie.” He’s persuasive with both his touch and his words, spreading your legs gently, one of his hands sliding towards a calf where he squeezes lightly, your body soft and pliant like moist clay under the hands of a sculptor. “You’re so gorgeous… show me…” He kisses a trail down your neck to your collarbone, your chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm as you squirm a little, ticklish and aroused.
“Neuv…” You moan, eyes still closed but senses fully aware of him and everything around you. The room feels hotter, your skin simmering everywhere he touches. Your sides, your hips, your ass… lifting your bottom slightly to slide you into his lap, your legs instinctively curling around his torso and oh- “Oh…”
He shushes you gently, rolling his hips so his cock slides along your folds, teasing and rubbing at your sex, lathering on your slick and growing harder.
“So good for me…”
You whine again, eyes finally fluttering open to stare at his mesmerizing lavender ones as he ruts softly into you. It drives you insane, the want, the wait. And you claw and grip at the bedsheets in anticipation when the engorged cockhead catches on your hole for a moment before sliding again, poking at your little clit instead.
“F-Fuck… Neuv, please…” You groan breathlessly, arms reaching out for him to hold onto the pale skin of his shoulders.
He hums and finally guides himself inside, the first stretch making you keen and toss your head back into the pillow. You see his eyebrows twitch slightly, diamond pupils dilating. Your inner walls squeeze and gush as he pushes deeper and deeper. Goosebumps rising on your skin, sweat running down the back of your neck.
He bottoms out and groans, long and low, leaning into you to rest his forehead on your shoulder, savoring the way you clench before seeking out your lips for a kiss. It’s passionate, heated, but still sweet and you can’t help the smile that breaks when you taste his favorite tea on his mouth, bold, strong and decadent.
As morning light filters in through almost sheer curtains you gaze up at his face, the sharp elegant lines, his long lashes, his beautiful eyes and the slightly disheveled hair, partially falling over his face. You reach out with a hand and comb your fingers trough the white and blue locks, brushing them behind a pointy ear before sliding your hand back and reaching for a horn, petting it gently with pure adoration.
“You’re beautiful.” He says.
You make a sound that’s a cross between a scoff and a laugh, blushing and realizing that as much as you’ve been staring at him, he’s done the same. “Was about to say that myself…” You reply. You see the white pupils flicker, turning to slits and back to diamonds and a shiver runs through your body, acutely aware he’s still inside you. “I love you...”
“I love you too, ma chérie, more than you can imagine.” Your breath catches with his words, spoken so sincere, with such resolute feelings.
You are his, so wholly and utterly, but he knows he belongs to you too. Irrefutably intertwined, awakening long forgotten instincts on the old dragon. Neuvillette’s hands hold your hips again as he starts thrusting into you, filling you and then retreating ever so slowly. You bite your lip and try to push closer, canting your hips to that delicious feeling as warmth pool in your gut.
Your arms are back around his neck, fingers tangling on his hair and bodies pressing together as his pace increases steadily, gasps leave your parted lips. Your muscles already tensing on a tight coil.
Neuvillette hisses as he sinks into you, harder but not faster, aiming his cock right where you want it most, he feels you tighten around him, hot warmth sucking him right in and begging for more. It’s perfection that Neuvillette ruts into, pressing over and over. His instincts on fire telling him to lay his claim.
“I love you.” He says again, unable to stop himself.
You feel pleasure bubbling up, fast, faster than you’d thought, and intense. Your toes curl, legs gripping harder around him and your nails accidentally clawing at his back, surely leaving red marks on that pristine skin. He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting louder, wetter. His thrusts aim deep, heavy and punctuated strokes that hit your sweet spot with accuracy. Labored breaths mixing together.
“Neuv, Neuv… ‘m so close, please pleaseplease-” You whisper desperate, needy.
His thumb finds your clit and you squeal as he draws lazy circles on it, lasting only a few more seconds until you can’t stand it any longer and come undone for him… all over him, gripping him tightly, head thrown back with a loud moan, eyes shutting close.
“Hah… that’s it, hng-si serré…” He mutters and smiles satisfied as he looks at you, flushed and tender, whispering tender words against your neck, love and adoration pressed against your skin before his fangs do as well. Keeping his carefully measured pace as you ride the high of your orgasm and he chases his own pleasure, releasing inside you with that same slow methodical drive and a hoarse primal groan.
You both lie there for a few moments, panting and feeling the aftershocks, soaking up on the feeling of each other. A tangled mess of limbs between sheets and blankets. Neuvillette carefully rests his body on top of yours and you coo happily, combing his hair with your fingers, scratching at his scalp gently as another kind of of drowsiness settles on you, leaving you feeling floaty and light in the afterglow of your lovemaking.   
Your bodies relax and wind down, putty against one another when he raises his head from his resting spot at your chest and kisses you again, short but not less sweet.
“Good morning, ma chérie.” He says, voice low and soothing.
“Morning…” You smile back at him. A little amused.
He slides off of you and you whimper, feeling the stickiness and a slight discomfort from the sudden emptiness. He leans over a little and reaches for something on the bedside table. “I brought you some tea.” He presents you the cup delicately, still warm.
You chuckle and scoot to sit up at the crumpled blankets, graciously picking up the cup and taking a sip. The tea is fragrant and sharp, the same taste on his lips minutes ago… ah, so that was it.
“Thank you, Neuv.” You peek at him from over the cup.
A warm tea and a good fuck… you could definitely get used to mornings like this.   
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
Note
I loved Summon AU, is it possible that you make more Summon AU?
The aftermath of the summoning leaves the Wayne Manor in a strange sense of foreboding. No one really knows what the Ghost King has done with their list or what it means for them that he has accepted.
Everyone tried to go about their daily lives, attempting to act like they weren't looking over their shoulders. Bruce had nearly broken a blood vessel when he heard about them doing a stupid online trend when they knew magic and gods were real.
They couldn't think of a better excuse for why they did besides "it seemed funny at the time."
Bruce had been so unimpressed with them all that he broke out the big guns.
That night, Alfred grounded them. He really sat everyone- minutes Cass because she had escaped through the window after Danny called- and told them they would not be allowed to use any form of technology unless it was related to their nighttime job.
They would also be given a chore list to complete every day until their punishment was over.
Even though neither Dick or Jason lived at home anymore, they too were grounded and didn't bother to even try to argue with the aging butler. Cass was informed of her own punishment through a text, and she returned about thirty minutes later, ready to face her punishment.
She reorganized everything in storage- and in Wayne Manor, there was a lot in storage- without a single complaint, but she did seem somewhat nervous. And excited?
Like a child waiting to open a present.
That was out of character for Cass, but no one was brave enough to ask her about it. Life before the manor was a taboo topic when it came to Cass.
A week later, her restless behavior finally came to light.
When the doorbell rang, Alfred was just looking over the wood polishing job Tim and Damian had been assigned. Confused- as there were no expected guests and the kids were all still grounded- he approached the door cautiously. Tim was on standby in case things went south.
A young adult, likely barely eighteen, with pretty blue eyes, a vast, charming smile, and a gorgeous winter-themed dress, was on the other side of the door. Their hair is short but styled to have one side longer than the other, framing their face perfectly.
A spinnable circle pin on her dress read Gender Fluid in the unmovable part and "She/Her day" in the spinal part.
"Hi there," She chirps, a dimple on full display. "I'm Danny."
"Good afternoon, Danny. My name is Alfred. How can I help you?"
"I was wondering if Cass was home?" Dany starts surprising Alfred and Tim -who were eavesdropping around the corner- as the girl carefully plays with her hair. "I was hoping to talk to her."
"Miss Casandra is currently not allowed guests." The butler starts slowly. He watches her face fall dramatically before humming. "I can, however, pass along a message to her."
"Oh yeah, that be great. Please let her know Danny was wondering if she would like to go with me to see a ballet tonight. Um if she's allowed to go out."
Tim's eyes widen. A date? Danny had come here in person to ask Cass if she wanted to go on a date? Then had the courage to ask Alfred, to his face, if she could take his grandaughter out?
Who is she? Tim thinks amazed. He wants to text the rest of the group chat, which would invade Cass' privacy. He waits a few minutes until Alfred responds.
"Miss Casandra is currently grounded. Unfortunately, she and her siblings cannot leave until their punishment ends."
Tim winces. Hopefully, Cass being nineteen and still being grounded at her age didn't scare off Danny. Some people didn't understand how much power Alfred's word had over the manor and frankly, those people didn't deserve Cass anyway.
But it would make her sad.
"Oh, that's okay. Thank you for letting me-"
A scream makes everyone jump. Tim whirls around to find Damian pressed against the main stairway. His face has gone three sheets of white, staring at Danny with horror.
"Y-you!"
Danny tilts her head. "Me?"
"Y-you!" Damian gasps and Tim is highly alarmed that his voice is tinted with fear. "Why are you here?!"
"I came to ask Cass if-"
"You will not take Cain from me, Ghost King! I will destroy your core before you try to get near her!" Damian screams, hand suddenly holding a glowing green sword, but his threat doesn't hold much because he is literally shaking in his boots. "You have your summon payment already! You shall leave Cain alone!"
What.
"Oh! You think no, no. I'm not here for her soul or anything. Cass and I go way back when she lived on the streets. " Danny- the ghost king they summoned using a list of their gay awaking apparently- laughs, waving her hands as if to calm the young child. "I liked her for a while but thought she didn't feel the same. Until the summoning, where I saw my name on the list. We talked it out, and I was hoping to take her on a first date, you know?"
"You lie!" Damian races down to point his sword at Danny, looking just as wild as a cornered animal about to fight for its life. "Why would the strongest being in the multiverse live on the streets?!"
"Well....it's not like they pay to rule the dead....I had a rough patch, but Cass helped me get back on my feet." Danny muttered, slightly embarrassed. Then she squits at Damian. "Wait, are you a al Ghul?"
Damian breaks into a sweat as Danny gasps, "You are! You're family owes me so much money in backed up taxes for the healing pool! We cut off contamination maintenance because Ra's refused to pay years ago! Kid, do you know I can get into contact with your family member about the Lazarus pit?"
Damian screamed again, turned around, and ran, leaving a stunned Alfred, Tim and Danny. "Guess not. Anyway, sorry to be a bother Mr. Alfred, I'll come back when Cass can go out. Bye!"
A familiar portal rips under Danny as she falls through with a cheerful wave. Alfred and Tim watch it close in a moment before Tim turns to the butler. "Did I inhale too many polishing chemicals? Am I hallucinating?"
"No, my dear boy, I saw everything as well."
"Oh, good. " Tim pauses. " One of us needs to speak to Damian and Cass."
Alfred closes the door slowly. "I'll find Master Damian. You go for Miss Cassandra and Master Tim?"
"Hmm?"
"The next time, Mister Conner sends you a fun trend to try. Don't."
"Yeah, that's fair."
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undertheorangetree · 6 months
Text
Competition
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Summary- Aemond is a big fan of healthy competition.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Modern AU. Mutual edging. Handjob. Fingering. Blowjob. Surprisingly fluffy?? Straight up porn.
Author's Note- I wrote this instead of studying for my midterm lmao. This was a request and therefore a tumblr special so I'm posting the full story here below the cut :)
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Usually, she finds the competitive nature of her relationship funny.
Aemond has always been competitive. Whether it was a board game amongst friends or trivia night at the pub or something as simple as an arm wrestle, he loved to win. Most of the time, she found the trait endearing and knew it was a habit she shared, especially when he was there to egg her on.
But it is at times like this she thinks perhaps his need for competition has gotten out of hand. Laying naked on their shared bed, Aemond on his knees beside her with his hand between her legs, two fingers pumping in and out of her ceaselessly. Her hand is wrapped around his cock, doing her best to match his pace even while the pleasure his hand is wringing from her licks up her spine, leaving her dizzy and half boneless. He had gotten it into his head that even this had to be a competition, that whoever forced the other to beg to come first would be declared the winner. She doesn't even remember what they're playing for, not now, but she does know that losing is not an option.
Already, they’ve denied each other twice, pulling the other away in their attempt to win. Despite the desperation that is sitting heavy in her gut, her cunt already hyper sensitive and the feeling only getting worse, she can’t make herself look away from Aemond’s face. His eyes are half lidded, the pupil in his real eye blown wide and turning the blue near black, chest heaving with every breath. His hips buck into her hand weakly, matching her strokes as if he wants nothing more than to let the bliss of it pull him under, his need to win the only thing holding him back. She’ll never get tired of that look, the way his features have gone soft and pliant as pleasure runs through him. She wants to immortalize it, stamp it in her mind’s eye and look at it forever.
She knows she looks just as desperate as he does, legs shaking as she feels her orgasm racing toward her. He keeps a steady pace, the sound of her cunt all but echoing through the room while his thumb circles her clit. It’s almost insulting, how well he is working her up even while she does the same to him. She had half hoped that the pleasure running through him would be some kind of distraction but he seems laser focused, staring between her legs as if he never wants to look away. And she's so close. She can feel it right there, knows that if he keeps going she'll fall over the edge, but just as her orgasm is about to run over her, she knocks his hand away. A desperate whine leaves her, hips bucking up to chase his hand despite having been the one to push it away, and she hears him let out a low groan, his wet fingers closing around her knee.
"Fuck, look at you." His other hand comes up to brush across her tits as if he can't stand the thought of not touching her, catching her nipple between his fingers. She jerks, knowing that was more calculated than it was loving, and slaps his hand away irritably. It doesn’t deter him. "You can give up any time you want, baby, just say the word."
Though she's breathless, frustration and disappointment churning in her gut, she knows he hears the petulance in her voice when she says, "Same goes for you, baby."
He grins, hand falling back between her legs again to play with her clit. There's a smugness there she doesn't like, as if he's sure that she will be the one to beg first, and she decides to wipe the arrogance from his face. Turning slightly, she shuffles a little closer, licking the weeping tip of his cock and before sucking the head into her mouth, fist still pumping at the base. She looks up at him with big doe eyes, trying to look as innocent as she can with his cock in her mouth, and very nearly grins at what she sees.
The effect it has on him is almost immediate. His stomach tenses, mouth dropping open and hand going momentarily still as he watches her, black swallowing the blue of his eye whole. She takes full advantage of his distraction, taking him into her mouth a little deeper and hollowing her cheeks. She knows him, knows every mannerism he has just before he falls apart, and she knows from the look on his face and the way he starts thrusting helplessly into her mouth that he's half a second away from finishing.
Unfortunately, he notices it too and she feels his hand in her hair, tugging her gently off his cock with a frustrated groan. A thin cord of spit connects her to him and he lets out an almost pitiful moan at the sight of it, bringing a grin to her face.
He almost sounds as though he's whining as he says, "You're cheating. Don't cheat."
She tilts her head as she takes him back in hand, reveling in the whimper he lets out. "Why? 'Cause you're gonna come?"
"Because I can't put my mouth on you. S'not fair."
She feels her grin broaden. "And we both know how much you like putting your mouth on me."
He very nearly growls at that before all but tackling her to the bed, forcing her onto her back once more. He kisses her hard, almost punishingly, and she moans into his mouth, both hands coming up to capture his face in her hands. She’s happy for the reprieve, the want burning between her legs too distracting, and takes her time kissing him, in feeling his lips pressing against her own.
"You're such a brat," he mutters against her mouth and she laughs, nipping at his bottom lip to further prove his point. His hand falls to spank her lightly in retaliation, making her jolt again before her own hand drops to find revenge in another way.
It takes him less than a second to follow suit, his fingers running through her to collect the arousal that’s gathered there before pushing a finger back inside her, crooking it up immediately to rub against the spot he knows makes her squirm. They’re both on their sides now and she slings her leg over his hip in an attempt to get more comfortable, still kissing him in the hopes that it will be enough to distract her from falling apart. It does little to help, the pleasure rolling to a boiling point in her belly. In any other circumstance, she would be grateful knowing that her boyfriend knew exactly how to touch her, how to work her up so perfectly, but now she knows that it will be her downfall unless she takes matters into her own hands.
Her mouth drops open, a moan escaping her when he begins circling her clit again, fast enough that her whole body shudders. Knowing now that she is sure to lose should he keep that up, she speeds up her hand in an attempt to bring him over the edge before her. She runs her thumb along the head of his cock, stroking at him faster, and fights the urge to giggle when he pulls away to moan, his head dropping to rest against her shoulder. His lips drag along the skin there, leaving lightning bolts of want in his wake, and her free hand comes up to twist in his hair, lifting herself up slightly.
“Please let me make you come,” she breathes near his ear, biting her lip when he moans faintly in response to it. “You look so pretty when you do. Just want to make you feel good, baby, please.”
She grinds down into his hand subconsciously, rolling her hips in her desperate need for more, and revels in the groan he lets out. She can feel herself clenching around nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her, but she refuses to succumb to her want now. Once she wins, she will gladly keep him in this bed all night and let him do whatever he wants to her. But before then, she wants to watch him fall apart.
“C’mon. Be a good boy for me.”
That does it. He lets out another whiney sound, this one half a moan, as his brows knit together, bucking his hips up into her hand. She strokes at him quickly, once, twice, until he spills himself over her fist with another moan, thrusts stuttering as he finishes.
Though his hand stalled while he came, he picks up where he left off the moment he has recovered, not giving her any time to mourn the loss of her fading orgasm. His fingers comes back up to her clit, circling it as hard and fast as she can handle and pulling a yelp from her. His free hand falls to the leg that still rests across his hip, holding her in place as he rubs at her faster and faster, that familiar coil in the pit of her stomach snapping almost as quickly as it begins to form. She writhes beside him as her orgasm washes over her, a whine leaving her as her head tips back, giving him enough room to press a litany of open mouthed kisses across her throat.
All at once, the room falls silent, the faint droning of the TV in the next room still humming on where they left it. They’re both panting and Aemond turns onto his back, his hand keeping her leg splayed across his lap while he does it, a faint stretch burning in her thigh.
"I win," she announces breathlessly, wiping her hand clean of him before flopping onto her side, cheek pressing tight against his chest.
He vibrates under her face with a huffed laugh, his hand comes up to stroke at her hair mindlessly. "I think you already got your prize."
She turns her head up to meet his eye. "And if I want another one?"
He turns down to kiss her again. This time, it’s much gentler, all the desperation that had filled the air between them simmering down to nearly nothing. A part of her thinks that he may be content to simply lay here with her in their disheveled bed but then he reaches for her ass again, using his grip there to tug her to lay flat on top of him. His cock is already half hard between them and she feels the side of her mouth quirk up at the realization that he is, in fact, not quite done yet.
“That can be arranged.”
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dosteovskys · 4 months
Text
QUEST COMPLETE | FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY
summary: the daily quest of coaxing one fyodor dostoevsky away from his work and into bed begins.
warnings: fem!reader, fluff, nothing else, lowercase intentional + unedited.
wc: 900 ish
notes: fyodor fyodor fyodor the things i would do with your hands
fyodor dostoevsky has pretty hands.
it’s a fact that you always marveled, really. his fingers are long and thin, his skin is fair and soft—besides the tips of his fingers, which are calloused from the long hours he spends playing the cello and ridged from where he frequently bites at them. fyodor is pretty in general, but there’s something so delicate about his hands that has you charmed.
you don’t have a hand kink—you swear that you don’t. you just have a… fascination. you can’t help it that your eyes linger when you watch him do things with them, whether it be typing away at his computers doing whatever nefarious things that fyodor dostoevsky does at his computers or relaxing after long hours of working by playing the cello in your shared room. sometimes, you like to challenge him to games of chess just to watch his fingers toy with the pieces—you never win, you’re very good at chess but fyodor is on another level entirely. the only time you’ve ever come close was when he was so sick that nikolai was joking about him being on his deathbed.
you had not found it nearly as funny.
now, he’s writing some letter at his desk, grip tight on his pen and brows furrowed just a bit, meaning whatever he’s doing, he’s not having a good time with it. you peek over his shoulder, trying to read the letter, only to instantly understand why he looks so frustrated—ah, he’s trying to write in kanji, and from what you can tell by the crumpled papers on the floor next to him, he’s already restarted several times already.
you take a seat on top of the desk to his left, he barely spares you a glance, so you reach down to capture his free hand in yours, holding it in your lap. fyodor glances up at you, brows still knit together as he casts a suspicious look in your direction.
“i’m working,” he mutters.
“i’m not stopping you,” you reply.
he doesn’t look convinced, but rather than pushing, he turns his attention back to the parchment in front of him. you smile to yourself lightly, looking down at the hand laying in your lap and unfurling his fingers, running your fingers across his palm before tracing the tip of your finger down the length of each of his. you watch as his expression slowly smooths out at the feeling of your touch. no matter how much he denies needing or desiring physical comfort of any kind, his body always betrays him.
there are fresh ridges on the tip of his thumb, signaling that he’d been gnawing at it again, and you frown, lifting his hand from your lap to kiss his thumb, and then the palm of his hand, and then his wrist.
fyodor sighs, resting his pen back down on the desk and looking up at you. “you are trying to distract me, myshka,” he accuses, voice gentle but eyes sharp as he looks up at you.
“never,” you say, but your voice edges on playful and you know that he catches it, from the way his purple eyes just barely soften. “i know better than to try to drag the diligent fyodor dostoevsky from his duties.”
“liar,” he murmurs, laced with affection, lifting his hand from yours to cup the side of your face, the pads of his fingers tracing your cheekbone. you lean into his touch, eyes focusing in on his face.
there are dark circles beneath his eyes, and his skin is paler than usual. you wonder when the last time he got a full night’s rest was, you know he’s been working himself to the bone in preparation for whatever plans he has for yokohama.
“come to bed with me,” you say softly, bringing your hand up to hold his against your face, eyes partially lidded as you look down at him.
fyodor sighs, pulling his hand back and looking down at the papers on his desk—so it begins, you think, hiding the amusement that rises to your chest when you realize that your daily quest of trying to get your lover to rest is about to begin. you figure it might be a bit easier this time, because he looks extra tired, but you know better than to underestimate the sheer stubbornness that fyodor dostoevsky is capable of.
you don’t let his gaze linger away from you. you lean forward and tilt his head back up gently to force him to look at you, absently brushing a loose strand of dark hair from his face.
“please,” you add, voice barely over a whisper as your eyes meet his.
he lets out a sharp breath, averting his gaze, and you know that you won. fyodor dostoevsky is cold and resolute, driven absolutely by ambition, but he becomes far more pliant when he pushes himself beyond what his body allows him.
you smile lightly.
“i did not agree,” he says. he doesn’t even have to look at you to know you already claimed victory. but even as he says it, he’s rising to his feet and you’re looping your arms around his neck, hopping off of his desk to rise to your tip toes and press your lips against his, soft and lingering.
“i know,” you agree as you feel his hands rest on your hips.
“a nap,” he concedes. “i have to finish this by morning.”
quest complete.
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