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#good night anon i hope u have a lovely day
crismakesstuff · 10 months
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Wasn't that scene in the comics too?
If you are talking about the scene in the opening sequence of s2ep4 kindaaaaa but not rly let me explain
spoilers for s2 ep4 “it’s been a while” ahead!
in the comic you get a lot of narration (bc that’s just the nature of a comic) where we get this exposition from nolan:
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in the opening of the episode this seems to play out but instead there is no narration or any spoken dialogue for that matter. But then we get this beautiful scene that is original to the show
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in the show you really see and feel the emotional turmoil that nolan is going through after ruining the live he loved and almost killing his son. He fully is attempting suicide here and the only reason he doesn’t end up going through with it is because he sees the thraxan ship getting pulled into the black hole. Let me repeat the only reason he doesn’t die is because he stops his suicide attempt to save lives.
He’s doing something that I personally think he did while thinking of mark, because mark would do that. He’s the kind of person to save strangers even if it blows up in his face bc of the kind heart his mother raised him with.
In the comic he just kinda meanders thru space and then arrives on thraxa and instantly just becomes like god king bc he’s the oldest and even ends up planning on giving thraxa over to viltrum as sort of “oopsie daisy I fucked up have this instead ok?” It’s something I personally rly did not like from the comic but they thankfully changed that in the show
The only reason he stayed on thraxa in the show and didn’t go back to try and end his life again is because he was asked to stay and to help them. I mean look at this guy he looked 100% ready to go and find that black hole again and finish what he started
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In s2ep4 there’s no mention of him saying that he’s gonna give them to viltrum just that the reason he needs mark there is to help protect the people of thraxa and his little brother oliver. Which is a small but very important touch
Also over-all mark pushes back a lot more against his dad than in the comic where he rly just begged him to come home like a sad puppy and then nolan said “I’m not talking ab ur mother lolz”. Again the show fixes this and is doing imo a good job of starting his redemption arc better than the comic, nolan is by no means fully redeemed at all it’s gonna take a while but he’s trying and fucking ur and trying.
Hope this helped answer your question anon ! C:
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Do you think Kenny liked being a mom?
I DOOOOOO i’m being . extremely self indulgent when i say that tbh but 😭😭 it’s just a nice thought to me. i think he wanted to experience pregnancy just to feel what it’s like yk?? probably viewed it as an experiment. so i think that when he held yuji in his arms for the first time and felt that biological protective instinct … he was probably facsinated more than anything .
….. so honestly . idk if enjoy is the right word…. but i very much adore the idea of him being a proud mommy :33 bringing yuji to the park and watching him interact with the other children …. lulling him to sleep with a fairy tale ……. feeling him squeeze his pinkie and just silently pondering the sense of peace inside his heart . YK???? it’s just a tasty concept to me.
… but either way motherhood definitely had an impact on him considering his domain expansion is literally modelled after a buddhist womb realm 😭😭😭 he’s kinda crazy actually…….
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lifesver · 12 days
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anonymous said: hi! i just wanted to say that i love how accurate your leland is, like you’ve perfectly captured the teenager who’s never going to know what it likes to grow old and it breaks my heart whenever i read your writing because it’s so sad. you’re one of the most talented writers in the tcm community and overall i’m just like constantly blown away at how you’ve come up with all of this from like one paragraph. you deserve an award man same anon as before but i have to tell someone about this because i just realised in rush week if anyone screams from the sorority house because johnny’s there, everyone’s just going to think it’s a halloween party. they’re in public but no one can help them so it’s the same feeling as being in the sawyer houses with no one to help
hi anon, i hope you don't mind i just slapped these into the same reply, but first of all, tysm for sending this this is so so sweet TToTT thank you, it makes me happy and also humbled ig like it's a small corner out here and people are reading my silly rp stuff that's crazy! tbh i could only go as silly mode in the development i've put into leland because i've had amazing writing partners on here that helped me build these characters and universes into smth special to us! so i rly have them to thank always for my continued inspiration, but this is very sweet and means a lot, thank you!
and agsdfgs no ur so right... i was thinking about the potential for a party and esp when people would not immediately clock that something was Actually Wrong. literally who's gonna believe them being like 'hey there's a guy here who wants to kill us. yeah the same guy from the murder house no one believed us about--'. like the potential is so good. smth about being in a crowded place, somewhere you should be safe. and you're Still not safe, you still feel trapped. you're just trying to forget last year and what do you mean we have to do this all over again? aaaaaa
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hotmandrivefast · 24 days
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“Maybe,” Max says, placing his hand on the edge of the top crate, just centimeters away from Charles’ thigh, “they should have asked whose hotel room you stayed in last night?”
Redbull!Charles from all to play for by @drivestraight
Rambling under the cut for author…
I feel like I owe a lot to this fic. Objects in mirror was my gateway drug into lestappen and pretty much the reason why I decided to stick around in the fandom in the first place. Completely blown away by how insanely well written it was. And subsequently fell so deep into the ship. I remember first finding it in around February? Gave you a big rambling anon ask back then about how good it was too fnjfnf I still reread it once a month just to relive the emotions.
I saw an ask you answered the other day saying you don’t get fanart that often and I was like ?!?? How is this possible?? Not under my watch
I know you’re not much into lestappen anymore but I’m really grateful for all the fics you’ve written for them! Just happy to read anything you post nowadays, doesn’t matter what ship. I love your writing so much. You’re extremely talented ❤️
Hope u like the art, it was made with lots of love 🫶
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ohdeerfully · 8 months
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alastor request HAI can it be based on the fact that alastor doesn't sleep, and it's his lover finding out that petting his ears during cuddling makes him fall asleep.
thank you for your service
yess i love sleepy alastor thank u so much anon :D!!
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Goodmorning, Love
Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
You were well aware of the Radio Demon’s sleep habits. Or, well, lack of sleep habits. You often spent nights in his room, where he would sit with you in bed until you fell asleep and go do whatever the hell he gets up to late at night. You always woke up in an empty room, and often so in the middle of the night, struggling to rest again as a greedy tightness gripped your chest in worry and disappointment.
You understood, though, and tried your best not to let it get to you that you didn’t have his warm body next to you when you woke every morning. But you couldn’t help that twinge of sadness. You weren’t particularly needy or clingy, but would it kill him to stay in bed with you for a single night? And to have a slice of domestic bliss as you woke up?
Obviously. 
You roll your eyes as you lay, staring up at the ceiling. You had just gotten ready for bed, and now waited for said demon to join you for a few hours. Your fingers tapped, impatient, against your chest as you hummed absentmindedly.
“How lovely,” You heard him speak. Tickles of that radio static that always followed him clung to your exposed skin, which was signal enough that he had entered the room had he not announced himself. “What a siren you are, luring me here with that hum of yours.”
You smiled slightly at his comment, scooching over slightly to encourage him over. He obliged, joining you under the covers. He still wore his usual outfit, which made sense considering his tendency to go away all night. You purse your lips at the thought, slightly chewing on the skin.
“Why the face?” Of course he noticed your expression. He always noticed when any emotion tickled your face. You appreciated the genuine tone in his voice, the typical buzz of radio barely detectable in his words. He always got a little softer and kinder when he was alone with you like this.
You appreciated nights with him, being able to see a side of him that nobody else would live to spread word of. You enjoyed feeling a little special, especially to somebody like him.
“Do you think you could stay in,” You asked cautiously, fiddling with your hands as you inched closer to him, pressing your body against his. Even laying, he still seemed much taller than you. You gingerly guided his head down, against your chest as you spoke, hoping the multitasking would keep him from sitting up and rejecting your intimate gestures. “Just for a night. I miss you all night long.”
He allowed his head to lay against you. He did feel tense, of course, letting the back of his head be exposed in this manner as he lay vulnerable on you. It was a strange feeling, but not one he cared to consider for too long. 
“(Y/N),” He began with a sigh. “It’s impossible for me to get much done during the day, what with all the running around Charlie does. Somebody has to keep an eye on that young princess. I prefer to stay awake to get my own errands done at night.” 
I know that, you wanted to say and interrupt his explanatory ramble. You wanted to beg him to understand, just this once. You held in a sigh, watching as his head gently rose and fell with every breath you took. Maybe you should just take this submission from him as good enough.
You gingerly began tangling your fingers through his red hair, brushing out any kinks he may have gotten throughout the day. His tense body seemed to ease slightly, becoming more and more relaxed as you weaved your fingers through the locks.
“You have really soft hair, Al,” You commented, changing the subject. You figured there was no use convincing him. You let your fingers lightly trail upwards, up to his ears. You grazed them slightly with a finger. You touched again. When he made no motion of dislike, you fully began rubbing them. Petting him. You smiled to yourself at the idea of petting the feared Radio Demon. “And your ears are even softer.”
“I try to take care of myself,” He responded proudly. There was another hint of something in his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. But it seemed heavy. “A well groomed man is a successful one.” You absentmindedly agreed as you stroked the velvety fur of his ears, switching back and forth between them and his hair. You had a preference for the ears, though.
You sighed and began humming quietly again. He rarely got so… comfortable, even around you. He always had some sort of guard up, always had his shoulders squared. He almost never became so… loose and vulnerable.
You noticed the clippings of radio frequency had stopped, which was a noise that was ever present in his wake. You had a suspicion why it disappeared, a small grin forming on your face.
Yes, the Radio Demon never slept. But that was a choice he made, not a curse that prevented him. Even demons get tired. You don’t know how Alastor makes it day by day without a wink of rest, but it was apparent that exhaustion had built up in him. He just needed to relax for a second.
You graced your fingers over his fringe, and craned your neck in a way to get a glance at his face. Yeah, you were right. 
He laid there, eyes shut, features relaxed with the lightest grin playing on his face. Even in sleep, you complained. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the sound of his deep, slow breathing and occasional twitch of his velvety ears. You briefly wondered what the Radio Demon would dream about.
Would he be aggravated with you when he woke up, realizing you had practically cast a sleep spell on him? You didn’t, but the rate of which exhaustion took over may as well have been some sort of magic.
You shut your own heavy eyes, exhaling lightly as you continued to comfort yourself with the texture of his fur and hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
You craned your arms and neck as consciousness came back to you, but an unfamiliar weight kept you from getting that good stretch in. Momentarily confused, you blinked open and looked down.
Red and black hair, more of a mess than usual, still took place on your torso. This was a first, and your chest felt like exploding with the glee of seeing Alastor still resting with you. He somehow looked even more relaxed than the night before, his cheek flush against your stomach, squishing his lips up slightly. A light grin was still there.
You gently brushed your fingers over his face, trailing a line around his features with an index finger. His eyes squeezed for a moment, and that static ambience of his slowly, quietly, returned. It was a noise that you had learned to find comfort in. He slowly opened his red eyes, a confused and sleepy daze clouding them. There was a wrinkle in his brow as he roughly propped himself up with an elbow, looking up at you with a furrowed expression.
“(Y/N)..?” He trailed, pausing to take in a shuddering morning yawn through a confused smirk. “Did I… Dear, what time is it?”
You looked at him tenderly. Oh, how cute he was, sleepy like this. Composed like an exhausted kid. Something even you have never seen before.
“Yeah,” You responded to his unspoken question. “It’s probably seven a.m. or so. I dunno.” There wasn’t a clock in your immediate line of sight.” “A.m. …” He said slowly. He sat up fully, looking down in disappointment at his wrinkled day wear. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes and managed to bring some composure to himself, but that lick of exhaustion was still prominent. Especially under his eyes.
“Yeah,” You said again, a light chuckle following. “Goodmorning, Al.”
He wasn’t obviously upset, it seemed. Though he probably was too tired to think about it too much yet. Maybe later.
“Well… Goodmorning, love.” He responded, still with a hint of confusion in his voice. “I suppose I accepted your plea from last night.” He brushed at his clothes while he spoke, trying to flatten out the creases that were brought on through a night of rest.
“Maybe more often?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation. You already knew the answer, but it was okay. You knew how to keep him in now. You mischievously smirked as he closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Unlikely.”
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lampiridaes · 3 months
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♬ now playing: "falling for you"
-> don't you see me? i think i'm falling for you (fallingforyou - the 1975)
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summary. various hsr men realizing they're in love with you
chars. dan heng , sunday , aventurine , jing yuan
notes. THIS ONE IS FOR U MIZU-ANON (still gonna call u that despite the username change) had sm fun writing this. i am a biiiiig loser for these types of tropes i need to admit it. I HOPE WHEN U READ THIS U ENJOY MIZU-ANON!!!!!! LOVE U <3
contains. fluff, pre-established relationship, spoiler-free, reader is a trailblazer but not the trailblazer, march & trailblazer mentioned (dan heng), 'pretty' used as a compliment for reader (jing yuan)
inspired by -> this post!
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track one: dan heng
staying up late talking to you. dan heng tends to pull all-nighters, but he never expected you to join in one time. it was actually a bonding moment—he felt as if you grew closer since that day. it wasn't exactly a deep talk, it was more like an icebreaker. compared to march and the trailblazer, dan heng was much more reserved, so you saw a different side to him that night. one that you ended up seeing more and growing quite fond of.
always turning their head if your name is mentioned. every morning when the express crew gets up and eat breakfast together, dan heng finds himself always looking over whenever someone calls you. "[name], let's share!" march 7th would exclaim, then the black-haired man's attention immediately turned to your direction.
... and when you notice that a certain someone is staring at you, you make eye contact and smile, which seemed to have flustered him a little. ah, he's growing smitten, slowly.
track two: sunday
realizing certain traits about you that he finds endearing, your curiosity being the most prominent one. with sunday being a halovian, you couldn't help but admire his features, namely his wings. yet you were far too shy to ask if you could touch them—after all, what if he were to feel uncomfortable? but, to your surprise, sunday was the one that offered, finally acknowledging your silent wish. his wings were undeniably soft, but also quite sensitive, fluttering away from your touch. at first, you thought you did something wrong, but judging from the light blush on the oak family head's face, you could tell he actually enjoyed it.
realizing he's in a better mood when you're in a good mood. being head of the oak family, sunday has a tough job. and yet, when he sees you smiling to yourself, sometimes even attempting to help him in any way you can, sunday finds an odd warmth in his chest. one he doesn't experience quite often.
track three: aventurine
the first smile you share. sometimes you wonder whether or not aventurine is serious in certain situations. sometimes you wonder if he's even your friend or if he's using you in a gamble you aren't even aware of. but that one fateful day when he met your gaze and smiled, you could feel your heart skip a beat. aventurine constantly wears a confident smirk, one that makes him seem like someone to be weary of. and that smile of his... perhaps you were the lucky one this time.
flirting with you. actually, your friendship as a whole had some... weirdly romantic undertones, but after a while, the both of you sort of started to truly think about the entire thing. was he serious when he said that you were the only person he wanted? were you serious when you said you wouldn't mind it if he kissed you? only one way to find out, no?
track four: jing yuan
getting things that remind him of you. whether it'd be a shiny trinket he figured you'd like, or even an expensive piece of jewelry, jing yuan slowly started gifting you different things quite frequently. and whenever you'd ask, his response would always be, "it looks pretty, just like you."
finding time for you and spending his free time around you. it's no secret that jing yuan is a busy man, being the general of the luofu. and yet, after those hours are finished, or he managed to catch a break in the middle of the day, he always looks for you somewhere in exalting sanctum and ask if you'd like to take a short stroll with him. you answer yes every time.
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jamminvroomvroom · 5 months
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Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼
I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)
I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."
late night talking.
op x fem norris!reader
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in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…
hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍
songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit
4.1k words
sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.
that’s what you do, oscar and you.
you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.
you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.
rinse, repeat.
you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.
lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.
and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.
-
“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.
he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.
it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.
“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.
“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.
you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.
“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.
“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.
oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.
“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.
“more careful?”
you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.
“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.
“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”
“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.
you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.
-
“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.
“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.
he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.
“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.
“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.
“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.
you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.
“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”
“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.
a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.
it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.
-
somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago
“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.
“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.
“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.
“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.
you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.
“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.
“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.
“agreed.” he breathes.
“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.
“always.”
-
always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.
you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.
you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.
“lando, are you okay?”
will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.
your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.
that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.
and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.
but you stand there alone.
just like always.
-
somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago
“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.
you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.
the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.
“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.
he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.
“brown?” he questions teasingly.
“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.
“why?”
“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.
“you flirting with me?”
“you bet i am.”
you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.
-
the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.
he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.
“you just stood there.” you croak.
“love, i-“
“don’t call me that. please.”
hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.
“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.
you nod feebly.
“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”
“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.
“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“
“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.
“i can fix this, i will.”
“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.
“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.
“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”
“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately
“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.
you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.
“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”
“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.
“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”
“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.
oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.
“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.
the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.
“i love you, osc.” you whisper.
he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.
“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.
“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.
he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.
“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.
“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.
he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.
“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.
“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.
“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.
your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.
“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.
you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.
“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.
“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.
it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.
“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.
oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.
“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.
-
“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”
you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.
“what?”
“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.
“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.
“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.
“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“
“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.
“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.
“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”
-
“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.
“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.
you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.
“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”
“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.
“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.
“promise, i promise, i love you.”
you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.
“i know.”
“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.
“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.
he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.
“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.
“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.
“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.
his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.
“there’s something we gotta do.”
-
you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.
still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.
ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.
“oscar, what-“
“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.
oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.
your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.
“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.
“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.
lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.
but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.
“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.
“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.
“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.
“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.
“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.
“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.
“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.
all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.
“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”
jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.
“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.
“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.
“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.
“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.
you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.
-
you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.
you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.
when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.
you and oscar, you’re built to last.
-
“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.
it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.
the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.
“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.
“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.
“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.
yeah. duh. come on, man.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.
lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.
you’re gonna be okay.
-
hehe
-
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chelseeebe · 2 months
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18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.
a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^
love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort
his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.
itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 
robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 
“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 
robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 
“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 
a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 
“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 
“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 
his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 
“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 
“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 
who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 
-
sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 
they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 
it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 
“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 
he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 
gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 
holy fuck. 
he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 
his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 
you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 
“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 
“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 
there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 
“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 
his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 
“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 
“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 
“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 
“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 
okay maybe he was being a little weird. 
who cares? 
definitely not eddie. 
-
this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 
eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 
but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 
his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 
fuck fuck fuck. 
why does this keep happening? 
gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 
if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 
after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 
though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 
heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 
“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 
“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 
“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 
“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 
“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 
gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 
eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 
nothing major. 
-
filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 
chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 
any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 
his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 
he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 
had he done something wrong? 
he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 
she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 
he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 
nothing. not even a twitch. 
he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 
so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?
“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 
eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 
“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”
no. 
“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 
left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 
just as he deserved. 
if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 
-
another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 
it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 
he can’t stand it. 
you have to go. 
maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 
eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 
you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 
“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 
“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 
shit. 
he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 
“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”
eddie was a terrible person. 
but so were you. 
bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 
you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 
that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 
he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 
it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 
a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 
that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 
-
eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 
at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 
crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 
but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 
he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 
“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 
even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 
“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 
you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 
oh shit. 
“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”
it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 
guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 
eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 
wait wait wait. 
you liked him? 
you liked him?
absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.
or it’s not supposed to be. 
no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 
you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 
-
it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 
guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 
shit, maybe he was. 
kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 
you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 
gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”
eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 
at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 
but that wasn’t it. 
you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 
somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 
a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 
you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 
eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 
-
he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 
you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 
eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 
you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 
he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 
there’s only one place he can think about going. 
a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 
his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 
the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 
“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 
“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 
rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 
when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 
he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 
because that was it, really. 
too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 
somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 
“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 
eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 
“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 
woah. 
that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 
petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 
“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.
“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 
-
public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 
well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 
he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 
“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."
he’d deserve it. 
it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 
you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 
“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”
you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 
your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 
his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 
-
eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 
a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  
usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 
knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 
or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 
gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 
a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 
you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 
eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.
your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 
his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 
he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 
“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 
the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 
“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 
“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 
eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 
you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 
suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 
“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 
“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 
“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 
he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 
you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 
“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 
“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 
you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 
your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 
you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 
631 notes · View notes
ceilidho · 9 months
Note
big boy neighbor ghost anon here
simon "wears his food" ghost riley, who is a messy eater and has you lick up his fingers to clean them afterward. who has you lick up your own slick from the corners of his mouth after he eats you out. who eats as much as he can of everything you make him because who else is gonna make him a homemade meal?
ghost's favorite meal you make him is coq au vin because it's hearty, and he eats 3/4ths of it while you have your 1/4th of it. simon cuts your meat for you, and he also loves it when you make whisky brown butter cookies for dessert.
sorry cooking is my love language and i hold big boy hefty eater characters very close to my heart. hope u have a good day pookie wookie
just thought of Simon saying “clean me up, pet” while holding a finger to your lips and staring at you while you lick it clean and then my legs gave out and I collapsed in a heap onto the floor.
not a military au, but construction worker!ghost showing up to work with a big ass cooler full of his lunch that you prepared him the night before and when his guys asked him where he got all of that, he just goes, “my girl” before shovelling more rice into his mouth. does NOT fucking share if someone asks him for a cookie. he gets sooooo testy and mean when someone asks him to get you to make something for them.
2K notes · View notes
hyuuukais · 3 months
Note
Hiii!! I saw ur requests were open but if this makes u uncomfy for any reason no worries. I was skating home from work today and kinda got scraped up pretty bad so I was wondering if you'd write a Skz reaction to reader getting hurt by skating(I was skateboarding but if you want separate scenarios you can use roller skates or ice skates too I think that would be cool) and maybe nursing reader back to health idk just something fluffy? I was kinda discouraged from skating after I got all scraped up today :/
Ps. I love ur blog and I hope you have a great day/night 🩷
-🔮(if u have emoji anons I'd like to be this one)
⋆✴︎˚。⋆ SKZ SCENARIOS ⋆。˚✴︎⋆
pairing : ot8 x reader
notes : hi !! i didn't know if you wanted texts or written, so i did a mix, i hope that's alright with you! and i actually don't have any emoji anons rn, you'd be my first, which is so exciting!! and i love love love the one you chose. i took your advice and did a variety of different types of skates :) oh! and this doesn't make me uncomfortable, little injuries/sick fics like this is okay :33
warnings : injuries (scraped knees/hands/face/arms, sprained wrist/ankle/concussion), blood mention, nausea, mentions of passing out/blacking out, reader called pet names (baby, honey, love), food mention
CHAN (wc: 561)
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There's a knock on your door exactly eleven minutes later, and you trudge across your living room to open it. Chans face is etched with concern, his eyebrows furrowing deeper as he takes in the light bruising starting to appear on your cheekbone, a few red scratches from the tough asphalt accentuating the purple.
Without a word, he enters your living space and sets a small bag down on the coffee table. Chan takes some things out, then gestures you to move down the hallway to your bathroom. Suppressing a groan, you do as he says, trying not to wince every time you step. Another, much worse scrape paints your knee, stinging with every movement. By the time you're sitting on the edge of the tub, your eyes have watered in pain.
Chan kneels in front of you, looking up to into your watery eyes, but you avoid his gaze. With a soft sigh, he takes the bottle of peroxide and dampens a cloth, gently pressing it down on your bloody knee. You hiss at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut hard as he continues to pat the wound and surrounding flesh. It hurts so bad, and you swear you can feel your knee throbbing. What feels like hours is mere minutes, Chan taking the cloth away from your skin to reach for a nearby bandage. He takes care in wrapping the wound, placing a small kiss on the top of your knee once he's done.
"Now, let me see that pretty face of yours." Chan joins you on the edge of the rub, bringing a hand up to gently turn your face to his. "Doesn't look as bad as I thought, but it still needs to be cleaned... you're doing so good for me, baby."
He smiles at you, wiping a stray tear that's managed to escape from the corner of your eye. Your jaw clenches as he brings the cloth, freshly dampened in peroxide, to your skin again, patting in the same motion he did your knee. The sting isn't as bad, the cuts smaller and quicker to clean. As soon as Chan is done placing the smaller bandage on your cheekbone, he places a kiss over it. His palm comes to rest on your lower cheek and jaw, resting your foreheads together. Naturally, your eyes flutter shut as you relax under his touch, the pain and embarrassment forgotten almost completely in his presence.
"I love you," You whisper, sighing contently.
"I love you too," Chan smiles, backing his face away from yours. "How about you change into some comfy clothes and we put on that show you've been on about? Sound good?"
A smile breaks out on your face at the mention of the show, nodding excitedly at his suggestion. "We'll have to start at the beginning! I've been dying to show it to you."
He laughs, his eyes almost shutting from how wide his smile has gotten watching you grab his hand and lead him out of the bathroom. You're still talking as you change, but Chan just leans back on the bed listening, not daring to interrupt. He loves it when you're like this, gushing about your interests to your hearts content. It seems like a flip has switched from your dim mood, and Chan is glad he could do something to make you feel better.
MINHO (wc: 526)
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And he does, he marches right to you despite the protests of the coaches spread on the chilled ground, one of which is making their way toward you. Slipping and sliding all the way to you, Minho makes it to your side first and tries to assess the situation.
"What happened?" Minho demands, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You've managed to sit up on your butt, feeling the cold ground seeping through your bottoms as you curl into yourself. Keeping your wrist close to your chest, you take deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Staying calm is the only way you'll get through the throbbing pain in your wrist.
The coach stops just short of you, kneeling on the opposite side of Minho. "Y/n! Are you alright? That was a really bad fall."
All you can do is shake your head, eyes unmoving from the spot between your knees. With the nausea you're feeling, the only thing keeping you from jumping to the conclusion you've broken a bone is the fact you never heard a crack.
One minute, you were gliding on the ice, acing your practice jumps and having fun. The lessons you're doing have been going on for a few months now, and you've been getting better with each one. Knowing you've always wanted to try learning to skate, Minho had paid for a full year of lessons for your birthday, and you'd almost cried when he told you.
Yet, here you are, once again close to tears for a completely different reason. You knew not to put your arms out the way you did, landing on your wrist at an odd angle. Next thing you knew, you could barely move as pain seized you and threatened to have you black out.
"Honey," Minhos voice is next to your ear, one of his hands rubbing your back soothingly. "Let me help you up, we need to go."
-
Hours later, you've traveled to the hospital, been seen by a doctor, and sent home with a sprained wrist. The whole way home, there's been a pout on your face, and all you want to do now is lay down in bed and cry.
Minho can tell, he always can, so when you get home he leads you in the direction of the living room. At first, you're confused, but then he kisses your forehead and brings you the first furball he can find. Soonie gets comfortable in your lap as Minho leaves the room, coming back a few minutes later with the comforter from your bed.
"I know you want to change and go to bed," He says softly into your ear, placing another kiss on your lobe with a playful nibble that makes you giggle. "I know you're embarrassed. De-stress a bit first, calm down, then I'll run you a hot bath and we can settle in for the night."
"I guess I can do that," You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder.
"Uh-uh, you will do that." Minho pats your head, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm not leaving you with a choice."
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CHANGBIN (wc:541)
It's not even ten minutes later that you spot him jogging down the street to meet you. You've scooted back into the grass to stay out of the way of other pedestrians, using your cold water bottle to soothe the scrapes on the palms of your hands. As soon as Changbin sees you, he's by your side and taking away the bottle, replacing it with his loving touch. He places a kiss on each palm, taking care to brush away the tiny pieces of ground off your skin.
Maybe it's how soft he's holding you, or just him being so quick to be with you when you're hurt, but you can feel tears well up in your eyes. The sound of your sniffles catches Changbin's attention immediately, and one of his hands is already on your face to thumb the tears away before they've even had the chance to fall.
"Bunny," Changbin coos, a pout on his face. "It's okay, you're okay. Let's get you cleaned up, how's that sound?"
You nod, letting him undo the laces of the roller skates, sliding them off your feet carefully. Thankfully, you didn't twist an ankle or anything, and you're honestly a bit surprised you didn't with the way you fell. Changbin ties the laces together, swinging them over his shoulder. Next, he helps you to your feet.
"You couldn't have brought me proper shoes to walk back in?" You joke, trying to find some humour in the situation.
"Why would I when I can do this-?" Hands hook under your legs and behind your back as he swings you into his arms bridal-style. You can't help but giggle at his antics, covering your face in embarrassment as a passer-by gives you two a look. Changbin lifts your torso close to him, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
Changbin carries you like this the whole fifteen minutes back home, keeping his head up high, proud of somewhat showing you off as you go, even if that wasn't the intent of holding you like this. Even when you do arrive home, he still refuses to let you go until you're safely in your bedroom, placing you down on the plush mattress. When you go to sit up, he pushes you back down gently, shaking his head.
"Stay put, let me do this!" Changbin almost whines, and you supress another fit of giggles at his reactions. "I want to treat you."
"It's just some scraped palms-"
"Yah!" He scolds, lifting up a hand. "You're still hurt. I'm not letting you do a thing for the rest of the evening."
Rolling your eyes playfully, you watch as Changbin goes into the en suite and comes back with some alcohol wipes. He sits next to you on the bed and takes one hand in his, gently patting down the scrapes. Mostly, your hands are just red from the fall, no longer bleeding at all, but Changbin still wraps your hands just in case, placing a kiss on each one afterwards.
"Next time, wait for me, okay?" Changbin looks at you, a small pout still present on his face.
"Yeah, yeah... I will," You promise, reaching out for him. "Now come here, I want cuddles."
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HYUNJIN (wc: 549)
The whole right side of your face is bright red, a pouch of ice ironically held up to the raw skin. Hyunjin's face drops as he spots you across the arena, hurrying around to get to you. Once he does, he takes the hand holding the pouch away, examining your face.
"It's not as bad as it looks, probably," You say weakly, looking him in the eye. "I haven't actually seen, so that may be a lie."
"Does it hurt a lot?" You shake your head at his question. "Does anything else hurt?"
"My shoulder, a bit," You admit, dropping your gaze. "I landed weird, but I think it'll be fine. It's definitely not broken or dislocated, just sore."
Hyunjin shakes his head, looking out at the ice where other people are still skating. In his head, the world should have stopped for you the minute your body made contact with the ice. He huffs, breath coming out in a little cloud. Turning to him, you poke his arm to gain his attention back.
"I'm fine, really," You promise, but his expression tells you he doesn't quite believe that. "Can we just... go home?"
Nodding, Hyunjin stands and offers his hand to you. Not for physical support, but emotional, walking hand in hand out of the arena. The hallways are quiet as you detour for a bathroom break before leaving.
When you enter, the first thing you notice is just how red your skin has gotten, a noticeable difference from the other half of your face, but you can't help but snort. In all honesty, you look funny. The pain is low on a scale of 1-10, so you're able to find a bit more humour in the situation than Hyunjin at the moment. Once you exit, Hyunjin immediately grasps your hand in his again, his tight grip comforting. If anything, you're more embarrassed than anything.
Getting back to your place doesn't take long, and Hyunjin makes a beeline for your bathroom as you're still taking your coat off. You take your time meeting him in there, seeing some cream set out on the counter. As soon as you walk in, Hyunjin gestures for you to sit on the edge of the tub. Carefully, he puts a few small globs of the cream on your face. It stings a little, but feels nicer as he rubs it into the sore skin. His fingers glide over the curves of your face, taking care to cover every inch of your injury. When he's done, he turns your body and begins massaging the shoulder you landed on.
"Never downplay your pain, you hear me?" Hyunjin lightly scolds, resting his chin on your head as he pauses his actions.
"I meant it when I said it didn't really hurt." You giggle when Hyunjin sighs loudly at your answer. "But I won't, I swear. Does me promising this make you feel better?"
"Honestly?" Hyunjin hums, thinking for a moment. "No, not really, because I know you."
You can hear the teasing smile in his voice, the corners of your lips twitching into your own smile. His arms come around you, gently rocking you side to side, his plush lips pressing a kiss to your temple. Just having him by your side is healing enough.
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JISUNG (wc: 608)
The gasp that leaves Jisung's mouth has people around him shooting weird glances, but all he's focused on his your body lying on the cement. There are a few shouts as he runs down to your body, slipping and sliding all the way down to you. You roll onto your back to see Jisung's face right above yours, eyes widening at how quickly he'd gotten to you.
"Baby! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do we need to go to the hospit-" Jisung rambles, but you cut him off with a groan as you sit up, shaking your head, and he immediately stops talking.
You sit up cross-legged, taking a look over your limbs. With your elbows and knees protected, you've managed not to scrape anything. One of your new friends come running over as soon as she sees your on the ground, kneeling next to you on you other side.
"You okay?" She asks, looking you up and down.
"I'm fine, both of you." With some semi unnecessary help from Jisung, you stand up. "The only thing bruised here is my ego."
"Maybe we should go to the side for a second-" Jisung stops talking when the girl shoots him a look.
Noticing the way she's looking at him, you gently push her to the side and whisper something to her. She nods, giving one last look to Jisung before walking away. Taking a hold of Jisung's hand, you and him make your way back up and to your bag. He grabs it for you as you lead him over to a bench on the side.
Neither of you talk for a few minutes as you sip some water, looking out to everyone still skating, your own board sitting between your feet. It's a vibrant blue with orange accents, something Jisung picked out for you to celebrate you getting back into skating, along with the matching knee and elbow pads. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jisung fiddling with his fingers.
"I said I'm okay, you don't need to worry," You say with a soft laugh, turning your body to face him. He doesn't look at you, but he nods. "Sungie?"
"What if the board I got you is defective and that's why you fell?" Jisung looks at you briefly, glancing back to his fingers as he continues to voice his anxieties. "Or- or what if you hadn't had the pads and really got hurt?"
"Ji, look at me, please." You cup his cheek, gently making him turn; sad eyes stare back at you and your heart hurts just a bit. "None of this was because of you, and don't think of what could have happened. What matters is that I'm alright, and so are you, okay?"
He nods, and you can see a little bit of relief on his features with the small smile he gives you. You return the smile, bringing his face over to lean your foreheads together. After a moment, he pulls away just enough to place a kiss on your temple, whispering against your skin.
"You know I'd do anything for you." Jisungs hand tangles with yours, and you can feel your smile widen. "Anything, hurt or not. I'd stay by your side for a papercut."
This makes you laugh. "Remind me to text you next time I get one."
Your comment makes Jisung smile against your skin, and you back away enough to look him in the eye.
"Ready for me to go back out there?"
He nods, an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks. "Yes, but if you do get hurt, I will be running back down there."
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FELIX (wc: 851)
The two of you started the night off with some hot cocoa from a stand outside of the ice rink you were going to. Felix had been practically dying to take you out to the festival going on during the week once you both had a little time off, especially knowing your love for skating. Although the rink is small, he knew you'd love it anyway.
Now you're sitting on the side, sliding your shoes off and the skates on. The rentals fit a little loosely from all the usage, but still well enough once you tighten the laces. You help Felix with the fit of his, and all he can do is stare at you lovingly as you do this small act of service for him.
Holding hands, you lap around the ice smoothly a few times before slowing down. Neither of you really want to get off the ice yet, but you're legs are beginning to burn from the constant activity. There's a food truck of to the side, so you agree to take a break to eat and rest before continuing. You make a beeline for it on the other side of the rink, opting to go straight through rather than take your skates off early and walk around.
It's sudden, and you barely register you're falling until you've rolled off to the side. Pain radiates from your ankle, and Felix is by your side in an instant. When you look down to assess the damage, you notice your shoelace has become untied on one skate and is probably the cause of the fall. You frown; after all the years of skating, you know how to tie your laces tight enough. The one night you decide to use rentals, and you fall on your ass.
"Can you stand?" Felix asks, concern written all over his face.
You nod, letting him help you up. As soon as you put pressure on your right foot, your knees are buckling and you can't help but yelp in pain. Felix catches you, holding you tightly so you don't fall again.
"Love?" Felix holds you back a little, guiding you to sit down; thankfully, you were pretty much at the other side of the rink already. "Let me see... oh."
He pulls the skate off, along with your sock, to reveal the red, angry skin of your ankle, already beginning to swell slightly. Felix shakes his head, gently pushing your sock back up. You hiss in pain as his fingers brush the skin, an he looks up at you with worried eyes.
"We need to get you checked out, this looks bad." Felix takes your other skate off. "I'll be right back."
You watch him skate back to the other side to retrieve your belongings, manoeuvring through the crowds of people on the ice swiftly. When he returns, he helps you slip your left boot on, leaving the right one off just in case. People around you have barely even noticed the way you limp off the ice, Felix holding your right side to help take off the pressure. It doesn't take long for Felix to drive to the hospital from the rink. Despite the cold air, all you can focus on is the uncomfortable warmth from your ankle.
-
Entering your house with a groan, you hop stubbornly to your couch, covering your red face in embarrassment. Felix laughs softly at your reaction, kicking his shoes off before joining you. Gently, he brings your hands away from your face and brings one of his to turn your chin to look at him.
"Everyone makes mistakes, love," Felix cups your cheek when you pout. "One twisted ankle from busted skates isn't the end of the world. You'll heal, and I'll be here the whole time."
"What about-"
"No." Felix says firmly, shaking his head. "I'll be here. You're not allowed to walk without my help until you're better. Now," He takes a pillow, standing up and placing it down where he was sitting. "Let's get this thing elevated."
Felix takes your foot with care, lifting it onto the pillow. He leans over to kiss your forehead before leaving to the kitchen behind you.
"Comfort food?" He calls out, and you look back confused; he just leans against the counter with a small smile. "We didn't get to eat before, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I'll bring the flowers in for you too."
"You're too good to me," You sigh, but nod your head. "I'd love that. Can we just... cuddle after?"
"Of course we can." Felix's voice gets closer as he comes back to place another kiss on your forehead, but you want the real deal, reaching up to pull him closer by the neck.
His soft lips connect with yours and you melt into it, smiling into the kiss. When you eventually pull back, Felix leans his head on yours.
"I swear your kisses can heal me," You say quietly.
Felix looks down to where your foot sits atop the pillow, still red and swollen. "Nope, still twisted."
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SEUNGMIN (wc: 922)
It's another ten minutes until you see Seungmin approaching from the other side of the food court, standing right as your eyes land on him. His hands are tucked behind his back, piquing your interest as he's clearly hiding something. Instead of stopping when he gets to you, Seungmin turns and walks a few steps backward, nodding you over to follow him with a smirk on his face. You run up to him, trying to see what he's hiding, but he keeps moving in a way you can't.
"Be patient, we need to get outside." Seungmin groans, but you can hear the playfulness in his voice.
"You know I don't like surprises-"
"No, you like to say you don't," He counters, and you feel the corners of your lips tug upward. "I know you better than that."
You exit the mall a few moments later, having only met there as a convenient spot between your two homes. Seungmin gestures you over to the emptier side of the parking lot wrapping around, and you spot a small picnic area set up; your heart skips a beat seeing the effort Seungmin has put into this.
"Min..." You run up to the picnic table, eyes gazing over the set up; there are small cakes and treats and your favourite takeout all organized on the wooden structure. You're about to speak again, but gasp instead when you turn and see what he's holding out.
Seungmin smiles at your reaction, holding your previously broken skateboard up with both hands. The wheel had broken from years of use, and you haven't had the time to go out and get it fixed, so it's been collecting dust in the corner of your room for weeks. To see that Seungmin went out of his way to have it fixed as a surprise for your anniversary date was enough to make you tear up.
Seeing your expression, Seungmin places the board on the ground and comes up to you, pulling you gently by the hands over to it. He knows how much you love to skate, how important this is for you, so he thought it'd be a nice surprise. He places a kiss on your temple, urging you to get on.
You spend the next thirty minutes or so going back and forth on the sidewalk by the table, stopping to have a few bites and talk to Seungmin. He stares at you as you head away from him again, his lips twitching up into a small smile when he sees how much you're enjoying yourself. When you turn around, you go a bit faster, wanting to get back to Seungmin quickly to give him his gift. You don't notice the way your board goes of on an angle, too excited.
"Baby, I have someth- woah!" You collide with the hard ground, cement scraping your arms as you tumble.
"Y/n!" Seungmin shoots out of his seat, kneeling next to you and helping you into a sitting position. "God, what the hell? Are you okay?"
"I fall and the first thing you say to me is 'what the hell'," You try and laugh, but your eyes are stinging with unshed tears at the pain in your forearms.
Seungmin lifts your arms to him, inhaling sharply at the bloody scrapes decorating your skin. Dropping your arms, he runs back to the table, grabbing his bag. You watch him with a confused look until you spot the small first aid kit in his open bag.
"Always prepared," You mumble, pouting. You really lucked out with Seungmin.
"With a partner as clumsy as you? Of course I am," He jokes, taking out some wipes.
His touch is light as he pats the wounds, looking up at you every so often to make sure you're alright. Although you're making faces every time the wipe comes in contact with your skin, at least you aren't close to crying anymore, now used to the slight burning sensation on your raw skin. Seungmin carefully places some large bandaids on the scrapes, kissing each one as he does; his care makes your heart ache.
"I'll pack up and we can head back to yours. I don't want you getting hurt again." Seungmin declares, standing and helping you back on your feet.
"What? No," You shake your head, grabbing Seungmin's hand before he can get much further. "I want to enjoy our date how it was meant to be. They're just a few bumps and bruises, nothing I can't handle."
Seungmin looks at you, and you can tell he doesn't want to do that. What he wants is to take care of you, wrap you up in a warm blanket and never let you go. After a moment, he sighs, and you can tell he's giving in to the look you're giving him.
"Fine, but on one condition." You wait for him to continue. "We go in and buy you some new knee pads and stuff. Then you let me pamper you when we get to yours."
"Kim Seungmin, are you admitting you care about me?" You laugh, poking his cheek; he swats your hand away softly.
"Never in your wildest dreams."
"I don't know, my dreams can get pretty wild... oh!" You run over to your bag, digging to the bottom to grab an envelop. "Your gift!"
Seungmin laughs at your sudden change in topic, eyeing the envelop. Inside are two tickets to see his favourite baseball team, and you can't wait to see the look on his face.
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JEONGIN (wc: 862)
"Yes, I can see." Jeongin wraps his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple.
"Oh!" You're surprised a bit from the sudden appearance and affection of your boyfriend, but lean into him. "I wasn't expecting you to be here yet."
"I got out early. Let's go get the skates."
Jeongin keeps a hand on your back the whole way to the line up to retrieve the skates. Although you have your own, he still needs some, so you wait in line with him and catch up on your days. The whole time you're talking, you can't help but be a little stuck on his comment earlier, wondering if he was being serious, but you know neither of you like grand, public gestures like that.
The rink isn't incredibly busy for a Friday night, and you aren't complaining. It's easier to do and go where you want, colourful lights reflecting off the shiny ground. You look at Jeongin beside you, reds and blues and greens dancing over his sharp features; you're mesmerized.
Which is definitely what causes you to go crashing into the wall of the rink, losing your balance and falling backward. The back of your head smacks the hard ground, and you can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes at the impact. Before you can really react, there are already gentle hands on your head trying to assess the damage. Your ears are ringing a bit, but you can hear your boyfriend's voice from above you and open your eyes, having squeezed them shut in pain.
"Y/n? Baby?" Jeongin's voice becomes clearer as he helps you sit up against the wall. "Say something, please. You're freaking me out."
"My head hurts," You whine, pouting and bringing your own hands to your head; you aren't bleeding, but there's sure to be a bump tomorrow.
"Yeah, I wonder why." Jeongin clears his throat, signaling some staff over. "We'll get you off the rink carefully, okay? You probably gave yourself a concussion or something."
It doesn't take long to get off the rink, and you let Jeongin take your skates off, too busy with holding your face in your hands to block the lights out. What you once saw as a beautiful, mood-setting atmosphere was now giving you the worst headache of your life. You keep a hand above your eyes as you leave, another attempt to block light while still being able to see where you're going.
Jeongin helps you into his car, driving you to the nearest hospital. Inside, you keep your eyes closed during the long wait, burying your head into Jeongin's shoulder. You're so grateful for him staying with you, the way his hand rubs up and down your arm bringing you comfort; movements reserved for you, and only you.
The doctor confirms you have a mild concussion, discussing the details of your rest and recover before sending you home. Once you get in, you collapse onto your couch with a groan of embarrassment.
"Want me to make you something?" You look up to see Jeongin setting his bag down and taking his coat off, giving him a confused look. "What? You really think I'm just going to drop you off at home, in pain, and dip?"
"You have things to do tomorrow-"
"Not anymore." Jeongin moves toward your kitchen. "Cancelled everything this week. I can't have you alone right now."
The casual tone of his voice has you melting, looking on at him with adoration in your eyes. You watch as he prepares you something, bringing over your favourite homemade comfort food. When he sets it down on the coffee table, you look up at him from where you're now curled up on the couch under a blanket.
"Would you hate me if I said I was too nauseous to eat right now?" You ask quietly, barely holding his gaze.
"Of course," Jeongin says with a smirk.
You reach out to smack him playfully, temporarily forgetting about your concussion and moving way too quickly. Grabbing onto the arm of the couch, you steady yourself from the wave of dizziness. Jeongin is instantly kneeling down and leaning you back, lightly scolding you as he does. A small smile forms on your face.
"You're lucky I love you," You giggle, looking at him with partially closed eyes.
"I am. I really am." Jeongin sighs, getting up to sit next to you.
Pulling him closer with your eyes closed, your hands brush the corner of something sticking out of his pocket, eyes instantly opening back up. You catch a glimpse of the corner of a red box before Jeongin begins bringing your blanket over him, but you stop him.
"You weren't kidding?" You look at him with wide eyes. It takes a moment to register what you're talking about, and then he begins to blush, hard.
"I wasn't."
"Jeongin-" He holds a finger to your lips to silence you.
"No, don't say anything. I want to wait until you're feeling better, okay?" You nod, and he leans in to kiss your cheek. "Now rest, baby. Need you healed up so I can do this the right way."
-
notes - HELP i actually don't know how to write anymore or smthn??? i'm so sorry if this is ass. me vs feeling insecure abt my writing ahahahahaha anyway. thank u for the request! i feel like maybe this didn't go the right direction sjdksk this is partially unedited too bc i kind of can't stand to reread my own writing so many times rn, so i apologize for any mistakes 🤡
─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom
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https://www.tumblr.com/twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat/742399552248840192
To answer your question as to who mari would be in this I raise you two options: if you were to make a sashisu x reader omori au (including nanami and haibara) reader could either be mari OR…. reader could be basil…bc imagine the survivors guilt😭😭
ANON????????? YOU’RE LITERALLY INSANE?????? YOU CAN’TTTTTTT DROP SUCH A BIGBRAINED CONCEPT IN MY ASK BOX AND EXPECT ME TO BE FINE 😭😭😭😭😭
no because this ask has been haunting me since i saw it ………. the potential here………… we’re gonna have to Discuss this. in depth. anon take my hand 🤲 hold it tight so we don’t lose each other in the brain rot
first of all SASHISU X READER OMORI AU ARE YOU INSANE??????? THAT’S SOOOO GOOD WHAT….. u little genius why do i lowkey wanna write this now 😞
okay so . this is just me spitballing …. but …… what if. omori!shoko… kel!haibara……. basil!gojo….. aubrey!nanami and hero!sugu🤔🤔🤔 what do we think anon. honestly i just got kind of attached to shoko being omori but i could see sugu taking that role too !! still, he reminds me a lot of hero :(( the guilt he feels…. all that leftover love for mari that he tries to turn into something good by becoming a doctor…..,,,, the way he returns to keep the group stable. it just makes sense to me!! i feel like he would bear the most guilt over reader’s death, blaming himself for not noticing anything… :(( he absolutely hasn’t moved past it but he’s trying so hard to keep himself intact.
and honestly nanami and haibara are kinda self-explanatory… haibara is Literally kel and emo nana reminds me a lot of aubrey !! i could see him being so attached to reader as a child and just being so angry over it all yk???? lashing out at everyone. he loved them so dearly and saw them as an older sibling and he can’t stand the idea of moving on from any of it.
and ohhhhh basil!gojo…….. he’s so. so so so guilty. so terrified of everyone leaving him. this is one i’m a lil unsure abt but i can still see it yk??? him and shoko bearing all this silent guilt, keeping it from suguru…… gojo being so attached to you but choosing to bear the guilt along with shoko… because he’s The Strongest and he couldn’t let her bear that kind of sin alone . DO WE SEE THE VISION……….,
ok but alternatively….., sugu is omori and shoko is hero 👀👀👀👀 sugu who shuts himself away from the guilt …… represses it ………. gojo who bears the sin of reader’s death along with him. because they’re best friends who share everything. and shoko being the glue that keeps them together in a way… that shows up when things get ugly…. hero being a doctor is also so fitting. and her silent suffering over reader’s death that she doesn’t let anyone see……,.,,,, shoko/reader canon idc
and then obv the final confrontation between sugu and gojo……, sugu and himself…….. ”you loved her and you killed her.” I FEEL ILLLLLL tbh this version feels so much more fitting 😭😭😭 omori!shoko still has a special place in my heart tho. but just imagine the final battle between sugu and gojo… letting go of their guilt when they see each other in the hospital ….., sighhhhh. this au makes me so emotional T_T
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tuxedokit · 2 years
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For the anon ask game, I already told you this on anon. I have a crush on you. Should I tell you this off anon?
i,,, hm. i dont know
in the end itss up to you my dear
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milkloafy · 4 months
Note
wait..... this is hella cute!!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3 if ur free to do reqs could you do hsr boys summer headcanons? im not sure if theyre open so it's fine if u dont thx!!! 🩷🩷
SUMMER SUN; SUMMER FUN — AVENTURINE, DAN HENG, JING YUAN
⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: ty anon for the request!! :> yes they are open so request awayyy ! i love summer sm best season fr so this was such a fun vibe to write :3 i hope u enjoy! i wasn’t sure which hsr guys u wanted so i just picked my current favs AHDKSLDK 
𝜗𝜚 — AVENTURINE
aventurine would love going to the beach with you 
building sand castles, picking seashells, jumping over the shallow waves along the shore
it all feels fun and refreshing to him. something he did not have the luxury to feel when he was younger
at your encouragement, he signs the two of you up for surf lessons one day
aventurine is…not a natural 
you’re both falling off the boards and needing the instructor to come and fish you out of the waves
after a few too many close calls, aventurine decides he never wants to go surfing again 
when the sun sets and golden hour hits, you take one million photos of aventurine, at minimum 
he models and poses for you, enjoying your excitement whenever you get a good shot 
once you’d had your fill, aventurine sneaks a few photos of you as well
he shows you his favorite beach pic of you with a smile
“you’re prettier than the sunset” 
aventurine ends the day off by buying ice cream for the two of you as you head home <3 
𝜗𝜚 — DAN HENG
while dan heng likes the warmth, he is not a fan of the summer heat
he prefers staying indoors during the summer, at the library or in museum with minimal walking around outside during the day
however, he does like sitting underneath the shade of a tree and reading a book 
some days, he’ll set up a hammock between two trees and ask you to join him 
when the heat cools down and the darkness graces the earth, dan heng likes to walk around and go stargazing 
the temperature is perfect at night—not too hot but also not cold enough to need anything other than a long sleeve shirt or a light jacket
dan heng has read about all the constellations you can see in the summer 
he’s disappointed there’s too much light pollution in most places, but for the stars he can see, he points it out to you and explains the story behind it
what constellation it’s part of, what planet is next to it, is that a space vehicle or a cosmo? 
he would definitely go on one of those websites that sell you a star lmao and “buy” one for you
even though he’s aware it’s a scam, he know you’d find it cute. dan heng shows you the certificate of your new star ownership and the two of you look for the coordinates in the night sky together <3
“you deserve the universe, but for now i got you a star”
𝜗𝜚 — JING YUAN
jing yuan thinks going to an amusement park is the peak summertime activity 
doesn’t matter if you are sweating buckets waiting in the long lines surround by body heat. jing yuan comes prepared. he has a hat, a battery-powered fan with a built-in mist spray, and water bottles with ice 
of course, he shares all that with you once you get tired of using your foldable fan
jing yuan is an amusement park snack afficionado. a salty pretzel? yes. a sweet treat? yes. a whole ass turkey leg? also yes. 
you are never hungry during your outing since jing yuan has you covered 
when you want photos taken of you, you show jing yuan exactly how you want it—angle and zoom and everything
yet when he takes the photo, it comes out off
crooked. blurry. you’re half cut off…
the only good photo he took of you is one where you weren’t prepared and have a horrendously silly look on your face 
“jing yuan… delete that right now.” 
“why? i believe it is called a ‘candid’ by the young folks. very popular.” 
you may not have come out with good photos of yourself, but at least you and jing yuan had fun and will treasure these memories forever. no matter how bad the photo to capture it is. 
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pupkashi · 1 year
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sweet nothing
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gojo always finds himself running home to you
a/n: hi friends ! hope u all enjoy this little piece inspired by the song sweet nothing by taylor swift (thank u anon for the inspo 🫶🏼) let me know what u all think :3
wordcount: 1,310
masterlist
one of the only thoughts on gojo satoru’s mind, from the moment he leaves home to the second he’s unlocking the door, is coming home to you.
his shoulders hurt from the amount of stress he’s under, every muscle in his body tense, eyes burning with exhaustion, and his head throbbing as the higher ups words ring in his ears. the light jingle of his keys as he unlocks the front door helps ground him a bit, blinking once, twice then opening the front door.
he’s greeted with the smell of food, he can’t quite place what it is (he doesn’t help in the kitchen much after the one time he did and ended up ruining three pans), he’s slipping his shoes off and placing his keys in the small leaf shaped holder on the table next to the door.
his eyes naturally focusing on the picture frame of the two of you on vacation last July, a wide, carefree smile painted on both of your faces, hair a bit messy from walking around. his cheeks were flushed as you planted a kiss to his cheek, your arms thrown around his neck.
satoru’s thrown out of his trance by the sudden sound of loud sizzling, the small smile on his face only growing when he hears your soft humming. his tired feet carry him quickly to the kitchen, a spring in his step as he grows closer and closer to being with you.
he feels the weight on his shoulders ease up a bit as his eyes land on you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching you chop up vegetables with a smile on his face, replacing the higher ups nagging ringing in his ears with your off-key singing.
“have you ever considered x-factor sweetheart?” he asks, a lopsided smile on his face when you turn to face him, bright eyes as you welcome him home.
“i sent in a recording once, they offered me a ten year contract but i declined” you teased, moving to stir the food cooking in the pan, “told them i have a very needy boyfriend that would die without me.”
satoru let’s put a small ‘pft’ at your words, pushing himself off the wall and walking up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder.
“how was your day, angel boy?” you ask, voice as sweet as honey as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. satoru let’s put a small huff, his warm breath tickling your neck which causes you to smile.
“‘t was okay, just stressed out” he mumbles, “and the fucking higher ups are-”, his eyes closing as he remembers his conversation with them, sighing deeply. you pout a bit, noting his more more tense body against yours. you let yourself melt into his touch, turning around and hugging him properly.
“don’t wanna talk about it?” you ask gently, he shakes his head, bangs covering his eyes just a bit. you nod, giving him a smile before kissing his lips softly, “then we won’t.”
satoru is grateful, knowing that when the time is right he’ll open up to you about it. but for now he just wants to spend his night with the love of his life.
“good thing im making your favorite then huh?” you chuckle, watching the way his shoulders inflate, he’s standing taller and there’s a smile on his face.
it wasn’t long before the two of you were eating dinner together, making easy conversation and laughing at anything stupid either of you said. he’s placing the freshly washed plates on the drying rack, heading over to you on the couch when you stop him.
“go shower, I’ll let you use my stuff” you state, eyes widening as you see satoru already running towards the restroom, “just this once!” you call out, hearing his loud giggles echoing from down the hall.
it’s 40 minutes later when he’s emerging into your shared room in only his boxers, body still dripping with water and steam following him out. you can smell your rose scented body wash on him as he dries himself off besides you.
satoru is looking at you with big eyes, towel in hand as he grins up at you, “will you dry my hair?” his voice is filled with a gentleness you’ve grown much too soft for.
“come here” you smile, heart growing at the sound of an excited squeak he lets out. you’re gentle as you dry his hair, combing out any knots and putting some product in it before patting his head twice, letting him know you were done.
your lover is quick to change positions, taking you in his arms and curling himself around you, some damp strands landing on your face as he buries his face in your neck. you’re doing your best to wiggle your hands free from his grasp, adjusting so you can card your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp a bit just the way he likes.
satoru visibly relaxes against your touch, practically purring as you whisper to him, “I’m so proud of you” you say, “you work so hard, angel” tenderness carried in every syllable of your words.
“I love you so much” you remind him, squeezing him a bit tighter, moving his hair from his forehead and placing a kiss there, “my beautiful boy” you murmur, a smile on your face as you see the way his grin grows.
the apples of his cheeks are rosy, pink dusting his entire face. satoru easily grabs your hips, placing you on top of him so that you straddle his lap.
“how do you always know what to say?” he asks, looking up at you with fond eyes, nuzzling his cheek into the palm of your hand as you place a stand of hair behind his ear.
“hmm, call it intuition” you tease, placing feathery kisses all over his face, the two of you giggling when you kiss his nose, “but it’s probably just ‘cause I’m your soulmate” you smile.
satoru hums in agreement, one hand snaking to the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss, your lips moving in sync. when you pull away the two of you are giggling softly, foreheads resting against each other as he shifts a bit, kissing you nose before throwing his head back against the pillows, letting out a small sigh.
“sometimes i wish i was just your toru” he mumbles, “i never asked to be the strongest.” you can hear the slight tremor in his voice as he speaks, his eyes closing to fight tears back. you’re quick to kiss his cheeks, rubbing your thumb against his cheek as you coax him to look at you.
“i know you didn’t, angel boy” you sigh, brushing his hair away from his face gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “it’s gonna work itself out, i know it will” you reassure him, a small smile on your face as he nods along with you.
maybe you were right, maybe you weren’t, satoru didn’t care. he believed every word you said to him. each reassurance working to calm his exhausted mind, his eyes fluttering closed as you continue to whisper, your words meant for him and only him.
“and you’ll always be my toru” pressing a feathery kiss to his jaw, “the one with the stupid sweet tooth and terribly timed jokes” you smile, watching the way his smile returns to his face.
“I’ll always be here waiting for you to come home to me” you say, there’s a plethora of emotions dripping from your words. the only thing satoru feels is love, your undying and genuine love, for him.
gojo satoru may not know everything, but he knows one thing for sure; he’ll always be ready to run home to you and your sweet nothings.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
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kamii-2 · 3 months
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Can u PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE write reader x paige smut when paige is using strap on reader and talking her through it cus YEAAAAA
hello anon, yes i will!! i hope you enjoy it!! (i made this. a blurb bc i really don’t know what else to add to it and it’s also late as freak rn so my brain is a little slow)
warning(s): cussing, smut with no plot
genre: smut
pairing(s): paige bueckers x reader
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“yes, just like that baby.” paige said as you rode her strap. she was laying down on the bed, hands on your hips as she watched your ride her. “oh God, p,” you moaned out as her voice turned you on more, causing you to ride the strap faster, “i need more, please.” you begged as her hand immediately reached down to your clit and rubbed circles on it at a steady pace. “good girl, keep going.” she whispered while you started moving your hips faster, “yes mama, keep fucking yourself. you look so hot from this angle.” she was licking her lips and looking you up and down. “oh, fuck! i’m cumming!” you moaned out, “cmon baby, cum on me.” paige replied to you as you came on the strap, cum dripping on her.
==================================
so sorry this took so long to get out but i hope you liked it!! anyway, i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋
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cheolism · 1 year
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✧ mirror mirror
✧ yoon jeonghan x f!reader ✧ summary: jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are ✧ wc is approx 10.7k ✧ tags: roleplaying, secret relationship (mentioned but not explored), smut ✧ warnings: mdni. feminine pet names, use of slut, pervert, mounting. jealousy, posessiveness, taunting and teasing, picture taking. rough and unprotected sex, squirting, dry humping. mirror sex, aftercare, roleplaying. ✧ request: i’m not quite sure if you’re still taking requests but do you think i could request jeonghan (preferably dom but sub would be fine too) smut with mirror? you can take ur time with it hope it’s not a bother! love reading your fics! have a great day🫶🫶 ✧ anon idk if this is what u wanted but i ran w it. i'm sorry it took a hot minute!!! i hope you enjoy it <3333
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He had been watching you all night. 
Jeonghan's eyes always tended to be turned towards you, but not like this. Usually he watched you with unbridled affection, love, adoration. But tonight his gaze was narrowed, his eyes sharp and dark, accentuated by the way he would constantly brush his dark bangs back and away from his face.
You didn't know what you had done to deserve that look from him. You weren't wearing anything revealing, hadn't done anything tantalizing or seductive. All night you had just sat at the couch, sipping at your drink and nodding along to Seungcheol's words.
Your friend was pleasantly buzzed, a large smile on his face and cheeks blushed. He had defeated a few others in beer pong, but that hadn't meant he walked away unscathed.
"I really think we'll be seeing all this warm weather bite us in the ass come summer," he was saying. "There's no way we don't."
You hummed, agreeing. "Remember when it got so cold that one year where it was in the negatives during the afternoon?"
"Yes!" Seungcheol gasped, eyes bright. Mingyu approached the couch, a pout on his face. He wedged himself next to Seungcheol and the arm of the couch, forcing Seungcheol closer to you.
Your thighs were touching his, his shoulder against yours. The two of you adjusted to get more comfortable, but not separating entirely.
There was movement from the wall. Jeonghan was still watching you, eyes taking in your every move. It was obvious he wasn't paying attention to Seokmin, who was dramatically waving his arms around to emphasize his story.
Jeonghan had, uncharacteristically, worn all black, form-fitting clothing. His jeans clung to his legs, revealing their slender shape; he wore a tank-top that hugged his stomach and chest, only hidden by his jacket. His hair was as black as his clothes, adding to the overall look that had your neurons and electrons screaming, eyes constantly smoothing over his form in an attempt to memorize the look.
Seungcheol shifted. He turned towards you, his wide body partially shielding Jeonghan from your view. He moved his arm to press against the couch, caging you in on one side. Seungcheol's bangs obscured his eyes as he ducked his head, voice low.
"I know you're dating Jeonghan." He ignored your gasp, your eyes widening. "And I know he hasn't looked away from you once all night. How about I help move things along, hm?"
"Seungcheol --"
"Don't worry, princess," Seungcheol grinned, eyes still holding that dangerously bright look. He reached out, hand cradling your cheek. "I won't tell anyone. Won't have to after this."
Then he was being shoved away from you, his body hitting Mingyu's. Your boyfriend was standing in front of the two of you, his drink gone, his jaw jutting out as he visibly tried to reign in his anger. Jeonghan, however much he tried to appear otherwise, wasn't good at hiding his emotions.
His anger was seen in the furrow of his brows, the firmness of his lips; the harsh, dark look of his eyes and the way his hands clenched at his sides.
"Y/n," He began, eyes never moving from Seungcheol. "Didn't you say that you couldn't stay long tonight? I think it's time for you to be going home. Why don't I take you."
You knew he wasn't asking, but commanding. Confused, but obedient, you stood from the couch. "I guess that's all right. See you later, Seungcheol."
"Bye, baby," Seungcheol sang, relaxing back in the couch. He had a little smirk on his face, pleased.
Jeonghan scoffed, grabbing your wrist. He pulled you towards him, his other hand settling on your waist. "Fuck off, Choi Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's laughter followed the two of you as you left the room, Jeonghan's grip on you never faltering. Eyes turned towards the two of you as you left the house party, taking in Jeonghan's hold on you, how urgently he maneuvered you.
Jeonghan said nothing to you as he led you to his car. He did open the passenger door for you, gently pushing you down onto the seat. You peered up at him with wide eyes as he stood before you, towering over your sitting form. "Jeonghan? Seungcheol wasn't doing anything, you don't have anything to be jealous about, I swear."
A soft smile that countered the past five minutes took over Jeonghan's face. He braced his hands on the car, leaning down and lowering his face towards you. "I know, sweetheart. But let's pretend he was, and let's pretend that I do."
"Pretend?"
Jeonghan's smile turned into a little smirk, the dark look that he had worn inside the house from watching you with Seungcheol returning to his face. "Pretend, my darling. Let's pretend Seungcheol was intent on fucking your perfect little pussy, and let's pretend I'm driven mad by jealousy, mad enough to fuck your cunt raw."
Every single thought flew out of your mind, eyes wide on your boyfriend. It was like the whole world went silent, shocked by his words.
Then you rewound his words. He wanted to pretend that Seungcheol, his best friend, had wanted -- you gulped -- wanted to "fuck your perfect little pussy", wanted to pretend that he was jealous so he could have an excuse to fuck you roughly.
The two of you had begun having sex a few weeks ago, a month after you had begun your relationship. There hadn't been enough time for the two of you, in your shared opinion, to be fully comfortable with having rougher sex.
Not that sex had been boring with Jeonghan. Not with how expertly he worked his fingers in your cunt, exploring within you. Not with how he was content to just lay between your thighs, arms wrapped around them to keep them spread wide, tonguing lazily at your clit for what seemed to be hours on end.
But still --
"If it's okay with you, of course," Jeonghan hurriedly added. He stepped off the curb, crowding into the car. His fingers sunk into your hair, tilting your head back. Jeonghan's eyes flickered over your face, drinking you in. "We can talk about it more on the drive."
You nodded, swallowing harshly.
Jeonghan smiled. He bent down, pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. The smell of alcohol hit your nose, and you couldn't help but wrinkle it.
Jeonghan laughed. "Cute."
Another kiss, this time deeper. He moved his mouth against yours lavishly, taking his time, as if the world would stop turning just so he could devour you. Each press was quick and wet, his tongue rolling into your mouth and mixing his spit with yours; each press sent a wave of heat through you, your head beginning to spin.
Jeonghan moved away, a string of spit connecting his mouth to yours, the smack of mouths separating sending a final wave of heat, one that landed in your cunt.
He laughed, darting forward to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. "How cute you are. You look like I've been fucking you when all we've done is kiss."
"Hush." You turned your head away from him, breaking his hold. Jeonghan pulled away and shut the car door, but even then you could hear the sound of his giggles.
One thing about Yoon Jeonghan, you had come to discover, was that he was absolutely shameless. The two of you kept your relationship on the quieter end, but that didn't stop him. He'd tug you to the back of the group when you were with your friends, just so he could slip his hand into your back pocket and squeeze. He'd grab you before you walked out the door for work whenever the two of you spent the night together, pressing you against the wall and ravishing your mouth and neck, leaving bites and sucking hickeys.
He took delight in your embarrassment and it seemed the more embarrassed you got, the more pleased he was.
"Aesh," Jeonghan sighed, sliding in the driver's door. "Can't believe you're still embarrassed by a little kissing."
"You kissed me like -- like --" You shot him a look, curling your lip a little, hoping he would drop it.
"Like what?" Jeonghan taunted, putting the key into the ignition. "Like we were fucking?"
You gasped, shooting him a wide-eyed look. "Yoon Jeonghan!"
He laughed, putting on his seat belt. You were quiet as he pulled off the side of the road, the radio softly singing and filling the silence.
"So about me being jealous," Jeonghan began, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "I'm not. Just want to clarify. I know Seungcheol was just fucking around with me. But it would be fun to pretend, wouldn't it?"
You hummed, shifting in the seat. You reached towards the console, pushing on your seat warmer. Jeonghan shook his head when you shot him an inquiring look, declining the warmer.
"What would it include? Being jealous?"
Jeonghan shrugged. His black hair was pushed behind his ears with just enough curl to where the strands hugged the bottoms of his earlobes. He looked so sweet, with his impish little grin and large eyes. Jeonghan was so beautiful, so angelic, so princely --
And underneath it all was a pervert.
"Well. It includes all the territory that comes with being jealous when someone's trying to fuck their partner. Possessiveness, manhandling, hickeys. Fucking your sweet little cunt relentlessly, shoving my dick inside." Your pussy, shamefully, clenched aruond nothing at the lewdness. "Proving that every single inch of you, every centimeter, from the precious hair on the top of your head, your tight cunt, your littlest toe, is mine.
"If you're interested in that kinda thing."
You turned away from Jeonghan, tongue running over your lips.
Against your better judgement you began imagining it. Jeonghan's large hands squeezing your thighs, peeling them apart. His mouth on your breast, biting and sucking in turn, tongue running over your hardened nipples. Nails digging into your skin, shoulders wedging between your legs. Fingers working you open just enough to fit his dick without causing you pain, careless otherwise.
Jeonghan ramming his dick into your cunt, immediately filling you with his entire length and cockhead hitting your core. Your legs draped over his shoulders, his body flush against yours, his fingers squeezing your skin hard enough to leave bruises.
"You wouldn't be mean, would you?" You leaned forward, pushing the seat warmer off. Your ass was warm, and combined with the warmth that was quickly mounting in your cunt made you uncomfortable.
Mounting.
Jeonghan, in a fit of possessiveness, flinging you to your stomach. Hands grabbing at your hips, wrenching you up for him to fuck you on his cock, mounting you like --
Maybe you were the pervert.
"No," Jeonghan agreed, "I wouldn't be mean. And if I say anything you don't like, you can use the safe word and stop it. Besides. You're too cute. I don't think anyone can be mean to you."
You threw Jeonghan an exasperated look.  He was grinning, the streetlights casting shadows on his face, exaggerating the cut of his cheekbones, shrouding him in darkness and light both.
"Okay." You licked your lips again. "Let's do it."
"Say it." Jeonghan sang, removing one hand off of the wheel to tuck some stray black hairs behind his ear. "I want you to say it. Say 'Jeonghan, my darling, my love, I want you to fuck me like a jealous lover.'"
Huffing, you turned away from him and looked out the window. Jeonghan giggled. You crossed your legs at the ankles, tucking your hands underneath your thighs. Softly, just enough so he could hear, you repeated his words. "Jeonghan, I want -- I want you to fuck me like you're jealous."
"Why would I be jealous, sweet girl?"
You turned your head to look over your shoulder at him, squirming. He used such sweet names with you, and it was absolutely horrible how they sent warmth flooding through you, how they seemed to settle in the pit of your gut, your pussy clenching and gushing.
"You'd -- you'd be jealous of Cheollie," you murmured. "Jealous of Cheollie wanting . . ."
"What does he want?"
You licked your lips, watching the line of his sharp jaw, the way his dark eyes stared straight ahead. "He wants -- he wants to fuck me."
"Fuck your what?"
A little gasp escaped you. As your words left your lips your pussy began to leak, juices slowly trickling out and seeping into your underwear. "Cheollie wants to fuck my -- my pussy."
It was as if Jeonghan won a competition. His face lit up, satisfaction practically radiating off of him. He looked so thoroughly smug, getting you to say such dirty words.
You glanced down at his lap. His jeans, which had done nothing to hide the muscle of his thighs and the shape of his legs, did absolutely zilch in concealing the bulge of his dick. It pressed against his jeans, and you bet he felt so uncomfortable like that. You wanted to reach over the console and unzip his jeans, reach into his boxers and take out his cock, his pretty long cock.
Immediately your mouth went to watering, and you were mortified when you shifted and felt the wetness of your underwear. You were leaking from both your mouth and cunt and all Jeonghan had done was say some dirty words.
You were such a fucking pervert.
Jeonghan's little hum distracted you from your peril. He lowered the volume of the radio, even though you could barely hear it in the first place. He didn't return his hand to the wheel; instead he laid his hand on your thigh, fingers quickly squeezing your flesh before relaxing.
"You've been so mean to me tonight," Jeonghan sighed, pressing his pretty lips into a frown. "You knew what you were doing, didn't you? Letting Seungcheol snuggle up against you like that on the couch."
"Hannie?"
His hand squeezed your thigh again. His fingers, his long and elegant fingers that should be used for playing piano or guitar or something other than what your pussy hoped he was going to use them for, shifted up your thigh.
You should've worn a skirt or shorts, damn the winter weather.
"You sat with Seungcheol all night." Jeonghan's fingers brushed against the inside seam of your jeans. You watched, transfixed, as his nails played with it. "Ignored me, your boyfriend, in favor of my best friend."
"Didn't mean to," you whispered, swallowing absentmindedly. He tapped his fingers against your inner thigh and immediately you were spreading your legs, baring yourself for him.
A laugh left Jeonghan, amused by your obedience. His hand slid over your thigh and settled over your clothed cunt. A sharp gasp left you, both of your hands shooting to hold his wrist in place. Before you could help it you were grinding your hips up, driving your cunt against his hand.
"What a needy slut you are," Jeonghan said conversationally, as if he was just remarking on the weather. Then he paused. "Is that mean?"
You shook your head. "No. Not mean."
"Did you like it?" You went silent. Jeonghan, delighted, laughed. "Let me feel your cunt. I bet you did like it."
You released his hand. You were mortified of the mess you knew awaited him in your pants. Wetness had completely soaked your underwear, your cunt hot and clenching frantically, as if you were -- as if you were a needy slut.
Once your jeans were bunched around your knees, Jeonghan's hand returned to your cunt. He pressed it against your underwear, trapping it between his hand and your pussy. "You definitely liked it.  Your cunt has fucking soaked your panties. I bet I could drink your juices right from your panties."
You gasped, offended and thoroughly turned on by the image. Jeonghan ignored you. "We'll be pulling into the lot soon. As soon as we leave the car, it starts, okay? Is that okay?"
You nodded. Jeonghan removed his hand from your cunt, making you clench. Part of you wanted Jeonghan to just stick his fingers inside of you already, to press your underwear to the side and fuck you in the car.
That, however, was too much for you right now.
So you hiked your jeans back up your thighs, frowning at the feeling of your underwear sticking to your cunt once again.
Jeonghan pulled into his car space, unclipping his seat belt as he did. Once he had the car in park and turned off the engine, he reached to you. One of his hands went to your belt, guiding it off of you. "Remember, sweetheart. Just pretend.”
“Just pretend,” you echoed back, smiling at him.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes, both of his hands moving to cradle your face. “How fucking cute,” he sighed, as if your cuteness was burdensome. He ducked forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick kiss. “I adore you.”
You laughed a little, delighted. You reached up, hands covering his and keeping them on your face. Your lips sought his back out, pressing a sweet kiss to them. Jeonghan, who was always eager for kisses and hardly ever turned them down, let out a little moan against your mouth. 
His hands sunk into your hair, bringing you closer. Jeonghan’s mouth began to move urgently against yours, trapping your lips between his, each kiss more hurried and sloppy than the one before it. 
It was weirdly hot, listening to the slick sounds of your mouth against his, kissing so desperately in his car. Your cunt gushed slick, and when you couldn’t help but pitch forward, grinding your clit down on your seat, your mouth parted in a wide, noiseless gasp. 
Jeonghan parted from you, his lips in a little grin. “So needy,” he cooed. Jeonghan pressed a final kiss to your mouth. “You ready?”
At your nod, Jeonghan was taking out the keys and opening the car door. You scrambled to leave your seat, shoving the seat belt back inside the car when it tried to hang out. 
Jeonghan was fumbling with his keys, leaning against the car when you joined him. His black hair was obscuring his face, and for a moment you were confused. 
Then he sighed, one of his hands reaching up and pushing his hair out of his face. He gave you a sharp look, his eyes hard. “What a greedy slut I’ve got on my hands, hm?”
Realization and heat flooded your system. You gaped, eyes widening a little. 
Jeonghan shook his head, pushing off of the car. He crossed to you, his hands settling on your waist. “Imagine how it looked to everyone else at that party, Y/n. Seungcheol was practically wrapped around you, his eyes fucking you right there in front of me. And you just let him.”
He laughed, a humorless thing that had your heart dipping down into the pit of your stomach. One of his hands wiggled up underneath your shirt, fingers lightly digging into your hip. “God. I bet every single bastard in that place thinks he’s the one fucking you at night. Do you think? Do you think that Mingyu thinks it’s Seungcheol making you cry at night with his dick, thinks it’s Seungcheol who makes your cunt seep so much wet that it could drown a man?”
You were saying his name, though no sound left your lips. Jeonghan shook his head, long lashes fluttering as he closed his eyes to further envelope himself in the role. “Do you think Seungcheol dreams of it? I bet he does. I bet he’s going to go home tonight and stick his hands down his pants and think of you.”
“Jeonghan!” You finally gasped, your hand, seemingly of its own will, reaching up and slapping his shoulder. 
His eyes flew open, his mouth splitting into a smile that you could only describe as villainous. “Oh? Are you trying to feign innocence? Trying to pretend that you’re some little perfect princess? Trying to convince yourself that you have no part in all this?”
“I --” You gulped. Jeonghan parted from you, though one of his hands remained on you. He used it to guide you away from the car and towards the building. “Seungcheol’s your friend, Jeonghan.”
“You think that matters?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Think friendship matters when it comes to this?”
“He wouldn’t.” Jeonghan’s hand slides down your waist and to your ass as the two of you come upon the stairs, softly pushing and guiding you up the stairs. “Seungcheol isn’t like that.”
Jeonghan laughed. “And if he is? Do you know what it’s like, little dove? Knowing that it’ll be your girl that your best friend’s thinking about tonight when he fucks the nearest cunt? Knowing that it’s your girl who is so blissfully unaware?”
“Or,” Jeonghan began, holding out the word as the two of you ascended onto your floor. He used his grip on you to tug you close, your side against his. “Is that what you’re wanting?”
“Jeonghan!” You snapped. He shook out the keys, long fingers finding the correct one and sticking it into the keyhole. “You’re just being bullheaded about this. You’re making a mountain out of a mole hole.”
“Yeah?” He pushed open the door, immediately flicking on the light. Then he was yanking the keys out of the hole, both of his hands going to your hips. Jeonghan practically shoved you inside the apartment, though his grip was secure. Once the two of you were inside he slammed the door shut, throwing the keys onto the floor. 
One of his hands moved from your hip to cradle the back of your head, and then he was pushing you up against the door. Jeonghan’s hand kept your head from slamming against it, and once you were settled he used the grip on your hair to angle your face up towards him. “You really think I’m just being stubborn?”
Your lips were already parted, your heavy breathing drying them out. You gulped, running your tongue over them and not missing how his dark eyes seemed to zero in on your mouth. “Yes. You’re being -- you’re being ridiculous, Yoon Jeonghan. There’s nothing to be jealous about?”
“Nothing?” He practically hissed the word. Jeonghan pressed himself against you, wedging his leg between yours, knee knocking against the door. His other arm came up and trapped you, keeping you still. “Nothing to be jealous about, sweetheart? So tell me, then, if you’re so smart. Tell me that every single time Seungcheol watched your lips, tell me that every single time his hand went to your thigh, every time he leaned in so close --”
At this Jeonghan lowered his head, his warm breath hitting your face. You could count his eyelashes. 
“-- he wasn’t imagining kissing you, wasn’t imaging fucking you right there on that couch in front of me, making me watch.
“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me I’m just jealous over nothing.”
You licked your lips again, feeling trapped. You knew, logically, that all of what Jeonghan had just said were lies. Seungcheol never watched your mouth when you spoke, his hand had never gone even close to your thigh. He never leaned as close as Jeonghan was now, so close that you could just push up to the tips of your toes and your lips would be on his. 
But Jeonghan, looming over you, exuded a predator waiting to pounce. His eyes were so dark they were practically black, focused on you. His body was caging you in, leaving you no room to wiggle. 
“You’re --” Your hands moved to settle on his arms, squeezing. “You’re jealous over nothing, Yoon Jeonghan.”
He growled as soon as his name left your lips. Jeonghan’s hand in your hair tightened, and he used the hold to bare your neck. Immediately his lips were on it, biting. 
A loud gasp left you, your eyes squeezing shut. 
Jeonghan’s tongue smoothed over the bite, trying to take away the sting. Then his lips were traveling, skimming, trailing his tongue over your skin and causing gooseflesh to pebble. A little whine escaped you. 
“There we are,” he murmured. He reattached his lips to your skin, beginning to suck. While he worked at bruising and marking your neck, he raised the leg that was between your thighs. Once his knee bumped at your cunt you were folding, grinding down on it as if it was his cock. 
“Jeonghan,” you moaned, feeling something begin to build. Pressure was mounting in your cunt, and you used Jeonghan’s thigh to rub off as if the two of you were horny teenagers who couldn’t even make it to the bed. 
“How needy you are,” he breathed against your neck. He released your hair, his fingers moving to ghost over your neck and the marks he left. You couldn’t help but hiss as he pressed his fingers into a particular spot, wincing. “You’re so fucking needy. No wonder you were off fucking with Seungcheol. Just can’t help yourself, can you? As soon as your boyfriend is looking away you’re searching for the nearest dick.”
You shook your head, hands squeezing at his shoulders and nails digging in. “No! Not -- not the nearest -- not Cheol --”
Jeonghan laughed, moving away from you. His hands settled on your hips, guiding you into a harsh ryuthym as you grinded down on his thigh. “Here you are fucking yourself on my thigh and still thinking about him. I bet you could get off like this, can’t you? Get off on my thigh like a little slut.”
Biting on your lip, you shook your head. “Won’t! I won’t, Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan hummed. “I bet you would if it was Seungcheol.”
“Wouldn’t! I wouldn’t --” A particular drag of your cunt against his leg had your back arching, mouth widening and eyes shutting. Pleasure shot through you, as if you were doing something more than just using your boyfriend’s thigh. 
“You would,” Jeonghan argued. “So needy you don’t even need a cock.”
“I need it,” you whined, shaking your heard. Your hands moved from his shoulders, going to grip at his hair. Then you were lowering his head, forcing Jeonghan closer. “Need your cock, Jeonghan.”
He didn’t get a chance to do anything before your mouth was on his, devouring. You took his lower lip between both of yours, sucking. Jeonghan let out a little moan, his fingers digging into your hips and stilling him. He ignored your whine. Instead Jeonghan focused on your mouth, shoving his tongue inside of it, forcing his spit into your mouth, using it, fucking it.
Lungs burning, you pulled away from him. You couldn’t manage to go far, smearing your combined saliva over his mouth and chin as you fought to catch your breath. 
Jeonghan squeezed your hips. “All good, dove?”
You nodded, hands releasing his hair. 
“Give me the safe word, darling,” Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Need to know you’re not all spent out from just kissing.”
You rolled your eyes, finally straightening. Jeonghan’s eyes were twinkling, though they hadn’t lost that dark, predatory look. “Green.”
His mouth returned to yours, pressing sloppy kisses to your lips. His hands moved from your hips, dipping inside of your jeans. You fought the urge to grind down on his thigh as Jeonghan’s fingers made quick work of your button and zipper, his fingers hooking into your jeans and underwear and pulling them over the curve of your ass. 
You stepped out of your jeans, and he was kicking them away. Jeonghan’s hands went to your hips and he was grinding his knee back up into your cunt, the fabric of his jeans dragging deliciously against you. You couldn’t help the little cry that left you, tilting your head back and letting it hit the door. 
“I don’t think you deserve my cock just yet,” Jeonghan murmured, leading your hips into motion. He had your clit dragging down on his jeans, insuring that every tilt back or forward had your clit moving over hte fabric, ensuyring that your cunt was soaking his pants. “Gotta earn it. Especially after your little show with Seungcheol.”
You shook your head. “Jeonghan, want your dick. I want it, please.”
“How prettily you beg,” Jeonghan laughed, though there was no happiness, no joy in it. “Love it when you beg. But you’re gonna have to give me more than that, my pretty little slut. Come on, dove. I’m giving you my thigh like a good boyfriend does. If you’re so devoted for me, like you’re claiming you are, you can get off just with my thigh. Can’t you? I know you can, sweetheart. I can feel your juices soaking my pants, can feel your little hole fluttering. Just have to give me one orgasm, lovely. Come on, cum for me.”
The cry that left you was absurdly loud. Your back arched against the door, your hips coming up and off of Jeonghan. He cursed, wrapping one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place while his other hand went to your cunt. 
Jeonghan’s fingers went to your clit, working at it furiously. You were still cumming, cries and moans leaving you freely. 
As soon as you were finished, panting and squeezing your eyes closed, you relaxed against the door. Jeonghan wrapped both of his arms around you, pulling you into him fully. “Good job, sweetheart. Knew you could do it for me.”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. Once you caught your breath, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Okay. Green.”
Jeonghan pulled back, one of his hands moving to your face. He reached up and tucked your hair back from your face, smoothing it and wiping off the sweat that had begun to accumulate. “You look like I’ve been fucking you all night.”
You laughed, breathless. “I feel like it.”
“Oh?” Jeonghan’s hands resumed their place on your hips, fingers digging in. You gasped, eyes wide and looking up at him. “But I’m not done with you yet, little dove. In fact, I don’t think we’ve even started.”
Then he was using his grip to hoist you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Jeonghan moved from the door, stepping further into the hall. 
“Wait.” As soon as the word left your lips Jeonghan was pausing, eyes on your face. You tugged on one of the dark strands of hair. “Boots. Have to take off your boots.”
Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but then he was setting you on the floor. “Way to kill the mood, little dove. Go wait for me on the bed.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, jumping onto your toes to press a quick kiss to his chin. Then you were taking off down the hall, ignoring the sound of your boyfriend grumbling behind you. 
As soon as you were in your bedroom you were shucking off your socks, leaving them in the doorway. You undressed the rest of the way, leaving your clothes in a trail to your bed. 
You practically threw yourself onto it, sprawling out. You could hear Jeonghan stomping about, moving from the hall and into the bathroom. 
Absentmindedly, your hands began to wander over your body. Your fingers trailed over your stomach, leaving a tingling path behind them. You pressed them to your nipples, neary hissing in pain from how erect they were. Unable to help yourself you rolled them, toes curling in delight. 
“Well well,” Jeonghan began from the doorway. You hurriedly sat up, not having heard him leave the bathroom. “If this is a present to make up for your little act with Seungcheol, I’d consider you maybe a little bit forgiven.”
“Only a little?” You joked, wrinkling your nose at him. “After the whole incident at the door? Only a little?”
Jeonghan laughed, walking further into the room. You watched, eager, as he tugged at the sleeves of his jacket. Jeonghan undressing, you had come to discover, was just as good as undressing him yourself. He always went slow, letting you take in the sight. 
He draped his jacket over your desk chair, his forearms flexing. His black tank top clung to his torso, revealing the sharp angles of his collarbone and showing off his long, pale neck. Jeonghan, though not considerably buff, was lean. He didn’t have the biggest biceps or thighs or whatever of his friends, but still you watched his biceps clench as he worked at undoing his watch, watched his muscles jump as he gripped the bottom of his tank top and began pulling. 
You don’t know exactly what noise escaped you as his chest was revealed, but you were so turned on that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Your eyes roamed over his pale chest, taking in the shape of pecs, the soft little curve of his waist. 
Yoon Jeonghan was many things, many contradictory things. He was sweet and kind, mischievous and impulsive. He was the first person you turned to for comfort, the last when you had a secret. He was an angel; a devil. 
But one thing that was hard fact, you knew, was that Yoon Jeonghan was absolutely beautiful. 
His hands moved to his pants, which he had left undone. You moved from your spot on the bed, shifting to perch at the edge and watch. Jeonghan began moving closer, pushing his pants down. 
As soon as he was close enough you were reaching for him. You tucked your hands underneath the band of his underwear, pulling. His cock slapped against his stomach once freed, red and angry, white precum pulsing from the tip. 
You liked your lips, moving to grab his dick. 
Immediately his hands were around your wrists, pulling your hands away from him. You gasped, looking up at him, affronted. “Jeonghan!”
He gave you a sly little look, shaking his head. “Come on. You think cumming on my thigh was enough to make me forget about your little flirtation with Seungcheol?”
Jeonghan used his grip on your wrists to pull you up and off the bed. The sudden motion had you tipping forward and flat into his chest, face pressing against the fabric of his tank top. He still smelled like the expensive cologne he wore, still smelled sharp and elegant, like wood and richness. 
“Please,” he scoffed, releasing his hold on one of your wrists to reach up and press your hair back from your face. Undoubtedly you looked horrible. You probably looked like -- well, you probably looked like you had orgasmed against a door. Still Jeonghan looked at you hungrily, drinking in the way you pulled at his hold, the little breath that left you when he refused to let go. “Do you really think I’d be satisfied watching you get off on my leg? Just anyone could lend you their thigh, little dove.”
He leaned down, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your face when he spoke. “But I know only one person who can fuck as you as good as you deserve.”
“Yeah?” You replied, breathless. His eyes were so black that you could barely differentiate between the pupil and iris. “And who’s that?”
Jeonghan chuckled then, but you knew he didn’t find anything funny about what you had said. He tilted your chin up towards him with one of his fingers, his thumb running over your bottom lip. Obedient, you opened your mouth for him and let Jeonghan slip his thumb inside. You wrapped your lips around it, hollowing them and sucking. 
“What a good girl,” he hummed, his eyes narrowed in on where his thumb disappeared into your mouth. “Too bad you’re good for just anyone.”
Jeonghan removed his thumb from your mouth. Horridly, you followed, mouth still open to take it back in. He gripped your jaw, holding you in place. “Ah-ah, little dove. Sit down on the edge of the bed for me.”
He released you. The sudden freedom from his body had you staggering, unbalanced from leaning against Jeonghan. His hands went to your elbows almost immediately, adjusting you to be upright once more. “All good?”
At your nod, Jeonghan was pushing you back onto the bed. You watched as he slid his pants and underwear the rest of the way down his legs, revealing his soft, ivory white thighs and calves. You wanted to reach out and hold them, to press your fingers into his skin and watch as your fingers imprinted on him. 
Instead you sat still, eyeing him. Jeonghan went to the standing mirror in the room, adjusting it. When he tilted it to the bed, realization hit you. “Can you see yourself, Y/n?”
You gulped a little, shifting slightly. “Yeah. I can see.”
“Good.” He stalked back to the bed, eyeing you. “Now stand up.”
You obeyed. Jeonghan sat where you had been previous, leaning back on one hand. “Get in my lap.”
You hesitated. 
Jeonghan immediately turned his sharp eyes on you, narrowing them. “What are you doing? You were so desperate to show off for me earlier when you were with Seungcheol. Are you getting shy for me now? Now after you’ve came on my thigh, after you’ve soaked your panties? Or do you only show off for Seungcheol?”
You shook your head. You went to him, and once you were close enough his hands were on your waist, turning you around. Jeonghan guided you onto his lap, pressing you down so you were trapping his dick underneath your ass. He held you down for a moment, grinding his hips up into you, letting his dick rub against you. 
“What a good little dove,” he hummed, releasing you. Jeonghan reached around you, grabbing your thighs and spreading them. “Hook them on either side of me.”
Slowly, like prey trying not to move too quickly as to alert the predator stalking them from the grass, you spread your thighs. You tucked your feet behind his thighs. The cold air of the room pressed oppressively against your cunt, which had been kept warm by the heat of your arousal, causing you to shiver against Jeonghan. 
“Look at how you glisten,” Jeonghan said, his hands settling on your thighs. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”
Helpless, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes to the mirror. You were completely bare, offering yourself to it. You could see where your feet were wrapped around his legs, how his pale hands contrasted against the skin of your thighs. His large dark eyes watching you from over your shoulder, the little smile that he didn’t even try to hide. Your nipples, the way your breast hung, your tongue dragging over your lips. 
Your cunt, bare of any cloth covering it, and the wetness that gushed from it.
“How pretty,” Jeonghan said. 
You turned your face from the mirror, trying to face him. As quick as lightning his hand was on your chin, directing you back towards the mirror. Jeonghan hooked his chin over your shoulder, curling his lip at you, trusting you to be looking at him through the mirror. “Eyes on the mirror, darling. I want you to keep your eyes open and on the mirror at all times. Want you to make sure you know just who’s fucking you tonight.”
“Jeonghan --”
“That’s right,” he cooed, squeezing mouth shut with his hand. “And that’s the only name you ever need to remember.”
Then he released you, his hand smoothing over your skin. You watched his long, elegant fingers, so thin and yet always seemingly so thick when they were buried to the knuckle inside of your cunt, travel down your neck. Your skin pebbled, gooseflesh rising, as his hand traveled. He pressed his hand down over one of your breasts, grabbing it roughly. You watched, transfixed, as he palmed at it, rubbing and kneading. 
“Jeonghan,” you sighed, eyes glancing up and meeting his in the mirror. “Hannie, please.”
His fingers took your nipple, pinching. You let out a little cry, face contorting as he manipulated it, stretching and rubbing and tweaking it. His other hand came to join the first with your other breast, abusing your nipples. 
You wiggled in his grasp, trying to get away from his evil hands. Jeonghan hushed you, moving to still your hip. Your message had worked, however, and his hands traveled from your breasts to over your stomach before they dipped between your thighs. 
It was odd, watching his hands spread open your thighs in the mirror. You could see how his fingers skimmed over the inside of your thighs, stimulating the area and making you shiver. Whenever his fingers neared your cunt you couldn’t help but clench, helpless, yearning for him to just sink them inside of you already. 
Finally, after what seemed to be the hundredth time of him teasing you, you broke. You began turning in his hold, whining. “Jeonghan, please --”
Immediately his hand was on your jaw, pushing you to look back to the mirror. “What did I say, you little slut?” He forced his hand back between your thighs, wedging them open. “Keep your eyes on the mirror. You wanted this, remember.”
With two of his fingers he was spreading the lips of your pussy, showing you off in the mirror. He laughed. “Look at how fucking wet you are. I’ve barely done anything to you. How long have you been like this, little dove? All night? Since the car? Have you been wishing, thirsting for my cock in your tiny cunt? I bet you have. I bet you’ve been wet ever since I kissed you on the curb outside of that house, you little slut.
“In fact,” he said, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. “I bet you’ve been wet since you sat with Seungcheol. I bet you’ve been wet the entire you talked to him, knowing that I was watching you. Knowing that I wanted nothing more than to take you over the side of the couch right in front of Seungcheol and make watch, make him watch as I fuck your cunt until tears pour from your pretty eyes.”
Slowly, tauntingly, Jeonghan’s fingers dipped inside of your pussy. Not enough to do anything other than to gather your wetness but it still had you gasping, arching up into him. 
Jeonghan removed his hand, raising it up to the light. “So wet. I bet you’re soaking the bed right now.”
Jeonghan shifted, bringing his hand to his mouth. You couldn’t help but turn your head and watch as his lips closed around his digits, as his cheeks hollowed out and he drank in your pussy juice. 
He released his fingers from his mouth with a pop, licking his lips as if he had just tasted the nectar of the gods instead of your cunt. “Fuck. I could taste your cunt all day.”
His hand returned to your pussy, fingers tracing over your folds. You spread your legs involuntarily, subconsciously hoping he would take pity on you and shove his fingers in. Jeonghan tilted his head, and you could feel his hair brush against your bare shoulder. “What’s this? Eager, aren’t we?”
You nodded. “Please,” you whispered, eyeing him in the mirror. “Please, Jeonghan.”
He laughed against you, burying his face into your shoulder. Jeonghan pressed a kiss into the skin there, his lips brushing against your skin as you spoke. “Please what, darling? You have to use your words.”
“Your fingers,” you stuttered, canting your hips up. “Please use your fingers on me.”
Jeonghan settled his chin on your shoulder, pouting at you from over your shoulder. “Hm. But you have to say my name.”
Your eyes moved to his hand, zeroing in on the movement. “Jeonghan.”
He tsked, and you both watched and felt as his finger tapped against your cunt. If you had more of a presence of mind you would be ashamed about how eagerly your hips sought out his fingers, about how your cunt gushed fluid and about how desperately you needed him. 
Because you needed him. You needed Jeonghan. You needed his fingers inside of you, needed them arrowing against your core, needed them fucking your pussy. You needed to feel his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, needed him to make you feel full. You needed his mouth on your skin, needed him wrapped around you. 
Before Jeonghan, you never knew what it meant to want. You wanted to eat, wanted a million dollars. But you never knew what it meant to want something carnally, not to this degree, not to where you were willing to do absolutely anything if it meant he would fuck you. 
“Again, sweet one,” he murmured, voice like silk in your ear. He always had a beautiful voice, even when he was telling lies. But somehow Jeonghan’s voice seemed even more enchanting like this, in your ear and whispering dirty commands. “Say my name again.”
“Yoon Jeonghan,” you said, as clear as glass. 
As soon as his name left your lips he was dipping two of his fingers inside of your cunt. A loud gasp left you, your head tilting back against him and eyes fluttering shut. It felt so good. It felt as if this was what you had been missing all your life, as if his two fingers were the oxygen you needed to breathe, as if he could provide the key to Heaven with just his two fucking fingers --
And then he was arubtly pulling them from you, leaving your hole clenching and hungry. You cried out, curling against him, powerless. “Jeonghan!”
“I said,” he began, voice just as smooth as before and yet carrying sternness that had you stilling against him, “to keep your eyes on the mirror.”
 You turned back to face the mirror, chest heaving. You looked pathetic. Your mouth was wide, your legs spread, pussy bared for the whole world to see. 
“Take your eyes off the mirror again and you’ll be left like this,” he warned, the hand on your hip squeezing harshly. “I’m serious. I want your eyes on the mirror until I tell you to take them off. Or are you such a desperate slut that you can’t even do that? Should I call Seungcheol, then? Have him come and fuck you?”
You shook your head, eyes on the mirror like he said. “No. No, Jeonghan, please. I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Good,” he said, rubbing your hip. His fingers smoothed over your cunt, petting it. “I don’t want to have to leave you all desperate on the bed, little dove. You know that if you’re suffering, I’m suffering.”
If you had more presence of mind, you’d be scoffing at his words, able to pick apart the apathy in them. But as it was, your mind was intent on one thing. 
“I’ll be good,” you repeated. “I’ll be good, Jeonghan.”
He shot you a smile in the mirror. “See? It isn’t hard, is it?”
Jeonghan’s fingers sunk into you slowly, the drag of them against your walls making your toes curl. You watched, captivated, with how your cunt seemingly devoured his fingers, as they slowly disappeared from your sight in the mirror. 
“God, your cunt really was desperate,” he said, laughing a little. Jeonghan settled his fingers fully inside of you, leaving them there, letting them fill you. “Look at us, Y/n. It’s like we’re meant for each other, don’t you think? Like you were meant to be here, sitting in my lap, my fingers buried to the knuckle in your cunt.
“And can you feel how tightly you grip my fingers?” Jeonghan asked, slowly sliding his fingers from your pussy. Your cunt protested, clenching down on his digits. You couldn’t help but whine, a high thing that pierced through the bedroom. He held his fingers up in front of you, spreading them. Strings of your juices hung from his fingers, dripping down over the ridges of his digits and down his hand, traveling to his arm. He pressed a kiss to your ear. “And look at this, dove. Look at how you’re dripping down my hand. You’re absolutely soaked. I bet I could slide my cock right inside of your cunt.”
You let out a long, shuddering breath. Your hands went to his hips, reaching back and squeezing. Shifting, you relaxed back against him, offering your cunt. “Jeonghan, please.”
He kissed your ear again, murmuring softly. “That’s right, my darling dove. Jeonghan. It’s Jeonghan who makes you this wet, it’s Jeonghan who gets you.”
You watched as he settled his hand against your side, the stickiness of your slick wetting your skin. Jeonghan slowly slid his hand down over your skin, the stimulation causing your skin to pebble and your toes to curl against his calf. You clenched when his hand made it to your groin, watching in the mirror as his long fingers neared your cunt. 
“How needy,” he commented. “What a needy slut.”
Jeonghan dipped his fingers between your pussy lips, taunting. He let them drag against your clit, brush against your hole. He did nothing other than gather your juices, petting your bare cunt. 
“Please,” you whispered, brow furrowing in desperation. You could see how your stomach heaved from you fighting to catch your breath, trying to steady yourself from the onslaught of torture brought on by your boyfriend. Your thighs were shaking, tightening and releasing with every brush of his fingers. 
“Fine,” he sighed, as if he was being burdened. “I guess I’ll give you my hand.”
Then his fingers were shoving inside of you, all at once. You yelled out, arching back against him, fighting to keep your eyes on your trembling figure in the mirror. Your cunt quivered around his fingers, sucking them in deeper. Jeonghan complied, his smile pressed against your neck as he angled his fingers to reach further inside of you, easily finding that spot in you that had you moaning, thighs hurriedly shutting in an attempt to trap his hand. 
“Fuck,” Jeonghan mumbled. Your eyes went to him in the mirror. His eyes were huge and dark, stuck on the spot where his hand disappeared into your cunt. 
He untucked his thumb from his hand, setting it on the lip of your pussy. He swiped his thumb against you for a moment, hooking his fingers into you and striking your core. 
The sounds made by your cunt were so lewd that you, if you, again, had the presence of mind, would be ashamed. 
Then Jeonghan was moving his thumb, wedging it into your cunt and underneath your hood. He shoved it meanly on your clit before launching a hurried attack against it, his fingers slamming that spot inside of you in time with his thumb. 
Within moments you were sobbing, tilting your head back against his shoulder. Your orgasm tore through you suddenly, causing tears to streak from your eyes and more fluid to gush from your cunt. You couldn’t do anything but cry through it, helpless as Jeonghan’s hand continued to work at your pussy, his voice filling your fogged mind with sweet little murmurs of affirmation. 
Your heart was beating so loudly that you could barely hear Jeonghan, feeling as though your heart were about to leap from your chest and sprint off. Looking in the mirror you could see the way your chest heaved in an attempt to breathe, the way your entire body sagged against Jeonghan as his hand continually worked within you. 
Finally you shook your head, whining. “Hannie, Hannie.”
Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, gently, he began withdrawing his hand from your cunt. At first your pussy tightened, but ultimately gave up, releasing him. 
He wiped his hand off on the bed, but even then when he settled his arm across your stomach, pressing you close, you could feel the stickiness on his skin from your cunt. Your release leaked from your cunt, your eyes caught on the mirror as you watched the fluid make its way down your crevice, dripping onto the bed. 
Your eyes flicked up in the mirror, locking on his. Jeonghan gave a small, inquisitive tilt of his head. 
You nodded back. 
Jeonghan pressed another kiss to your face, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. Then he was lifting you up and shoving you off onto the bed beside him, a loud gasp of surprise escaping you. 
“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he said, standing up off of the bed. Jeonghan’s hand went to his cock, hissing slightly as he began rubbing at it. “Lay across the width of the bed. Head towards the mirror.”
He rounded the bed as you did as he said, moving slowly, your entire body protesting. Your cunt was fluttering weakly, intrigued by him but so, so sensitive from the two orgasms. 
Jeonghan crawled onto the bed with his knees, looming behind you. He shoved your thighs apart, baring your cunt to him once again. You couldn’t help but bury your face into the blanket, muffling the groan that left you. 
Then there was an acute sting of pain in your ass, and you immediately were clenching up. You raised your head, this time witnessing Jeonghan’s hand descend through the air and slap your ass. 
Pain and heat exploded through you at the contact, and you couldn’t help but weakly curl up in an attempt to move away from him. Jeonghan quickly caught you, both of his hands going to your calves and yanking you flat onto the bed. 
“Where do you think you’re going, little dove?” The nickname, which was always filled with such sweetness and love, seemed to hold none of it. Instead it felt cold, taunting, something used to diminish you. Jeonghan’s hands then went to your hips, lifting them up and off the bed, presenting you for him. “I said to keep your eyes on the mirror, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” you stuttered out, breathless. You watched in the mirror as Jeonghan straightened. One of his hands began kneading at your ass, aggravating the stinging sensation left from his spanking. His other hand disappeared, obscured by your body in the mirror, but you knew he was reaching for his dick. 
“I just need you to hold still like a good little dove,” Jeonghan announced, his eyes looking down between your bodies. “Just need you to be still and let me fuck you like the slut you are, okay? Just be a good tight, warm hole for me.”
You braced your elbows on the bed, getting leverage to help present yourself to him. For a moment you were still, feeling nothing, watching in the mirror as Jeonghan focused on your cunt. 
Then the head of his dick was pressing against your hole, so large and alien compared to the fingers he had prepped you with. You couldn’t help but moan, eyes fighting to stay open. 
Jeonghan slowly breached you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. Your walls stretched around his dick, clenching and fluttering, at odds with how sensitive and overwhelmed your cunt felt from the past two orgasms but how desperate it was to feel his cock. 
“There,” he murmured, smoothing both of his hands over your ass. Jeonghan shifted the last few centimeters, giving you all of his cock. 
You couldn’t help but grind back, a loud sob escaping you. It felt like so much to have him inside. Every single part of your body was honed in on his cock, how it expanded your walls. Your body welcomed the intrusion and fought against it, but in the end you were but Jeonghan’s little dove, caught in his hands. 
Jeonghan moved his grip to your hips, fingernails sinking into your skin. You watched as he moved your hips away, could feel the drag of his cock, which seemed so much more than usual, so much longer and thicker. 
Dumbly you shook your head in protest as he guided his cock out of your cunt. “Hannie, please, please.”
“Quiet,” he commanded, looking at you in the mirror. His black hair was disheveled, his eyes narrowed. You watched as his pale chest heaved with effort to control himself, watched as he brought back his hips. 
Which meant you should’ve been prepared for when he snapped his hips forward, shoving his cock back into the warmth of your cunt. 
But you weren’t. 
You let out a loud shout, falling forward onto the bed. You scrambled against it, trying to straighten yourself and raise back onto your elbows. As soon as you dug your elbows into the bedding, your eyes meeting themselves in the mirror, Jeonghan was withdrawing abruptly from your cunt. 
He set a harsh pace, not allowing your cunt to adjust to his cock further. His fingers dug into your flesh, his cock bullied your core. The loud slaps of his skin hitting yours filled the room, but you could barely hear them over the constant string of moans and sobs that left your throat. 
Your fingers clambered on the sheets, desperate for some kind of grip. Jeonghan refused to let up, the pace burning. You could feel his balls slap against your cunt as he drove into you, his hips jackhammering into you. 
It was frantic, loud, messy. He was a flurry of movement, shoving his cock into you repeatedly. Each thrust filled you to the brim, seemingly reaching all the way to the back of your throat. It was so much, it was so fucking much -- 
“Jeonghan --” You gasped, hips beginning to push back into him. “Feel like -- feel full --”
He said nothing, his face twisted in concentration. Jeonghan’s gasps were quiet, his panting nearly unnoticeable. But you noticed. How could you not? He didn’t light up on his fucking, however out of breath he was, keeping the harsh pace that had your ass already feeling sore. 
“Hannie --” You sobbed, feeling something burning at the corners of your eyes. “Hannie, Hannie, Hannnie --”
Then you felt something gush from your cunt, as if all of your juices had released at once. Immediately you were squealing, falling down flat on the bed. 
Jeonghan cursed loudly, laying down across your back. The change in position had his dick reaching further, had you crying, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and getting in your mouth. 
Then he rammed into your cunt twice more, loud moans pouring from his lips. His released shot into you, the warm fluid squirting deep into your cunt and filling you. Jeonghan came thrice like that, more spurts of cum forcing its way out of his dick and finding home in your warm, abused cunt. 
Jeonghan slumped against your back, one of his hands shooting out to keep your body from falling flat. His chest heaved against you, the arm around you moving down to your cunt. 
“You gotta cum,” he threatened, hand moving to your clit. You sobbed, shaking your head against the blankets. “Yes, you do. You looked away from the mirror, little dove. This is your punishment.”
Your body jumped in his hold as his hand worked your clit, moving sharply and precisely against you. It probably took only a minute to get another orgasm ripping through you, but in your exhausted mind it felt only like a second. 
Then you were collapsing against the bed, his body molding into yours. You panted into the blanket, taking loud, desperate gasps to try and catch your breath. 
Neither of you spoke, fighting to breathe. Jeonghan continued to lay on top of you, his dick still inside of you. When you shifted you could feel his cum ooze from your cunt, and that was enough to get you out of your post-sex haze.
“Jeonghan,” you moaned, reaching back to shove weakly at his hip. Jeonghan groaned into your back. “I’m so wet ‘n sticky. Gotta clean me up.”
“Not my fault,” he mumbled, mouth warm against your skin. “You’re the one that squirted all over me.”
You froze, body clenching, including your cunt. A twinge of discomfort and pain shot through you at this, and you ignored Jeonghan’s little groans of disapproval as you shoved him off of you. 
His dick flopped out of your cunt easily, his cum leaking freely from your hole and mixing with your own release. You slowly, tentatively, reached back to feel the mixture. 
“This is disgusting,” you mumbled, pouting. 
“It’s wonderful,” Jeonghan laughed, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. “Can’t believe you squirted.”
“Didn’t know I could,” you returned, brow furrowed. You moved to roll onto your stomach but immediately got met with a sharp pain that shot through you, your muscles protesting. 
Jeonghan’s hands went to your body, stilling you. “Don’t move. You’ll be sore after all that, little dove. I’ll get a wet cloth and be right back.”
You nodded, flopping back down on the bed. You felt the bed shift as Jeonghan got off, the man stumbling a little. You waited for him to round the bed, to make for the bathroom. When he didn’t you shifted, looking over your shoulder.
Jeonghan was staring at your cunt, eyes intent on the spot. 
“Yoon Jeonghan!” You shrieked, kicking out. He laughed, startled from his staring. “Stop that!”
“Can’t help it,” he said, the evil little giggles escaping from his mouth so at odds with the filth that had left him twenty minutes before. “You look so good covered in my cum, sweetheart.”
“Take a picture,” you muttered, sending him a pout. “It’ll last longer.”
Jeonghan looked at you, eyes wide. “Can I? Please? I’ll lock it away and won’t let anyone ever look at it.”
You groaned, turning and pressing your face into the blanket. It was soaked from the combination of your tears and drool. “Fine. But you have to send it to me.”
Jeonghan scrambled around the bed, practically sprinting to get to his jacket. He nearly ripped it from the chair it hung on, hurriedly grabbing his phone. 
You hummed, tapping your foot against the bed as Jeonghan returned. One of his hands went to your thigh, spreading them back out and revealing your thoroughly fucked cunt. You heard his camera shutter go off. 
Then his hand was moving to your cunt. You let out a loud noise from overstimulation as he peeled apart your pussy lips, getting a better shot of the mixture. 
“There,” he said, satisfied. “Absolutely perfect.”
He pressed a kiss to your ass before moving back off the bed. You watched as your boyfriend left the room, admiring the pictures. Your eyes couldn’t help but travel down to his ass, watching it flex as he walked away. 
Jeonghan returned a minute later, a wash rag in one hand. He threw his phone onto the bed, moving back down your body. Gently, as to not further abuse your sore cunt, Jeonghan began cleaning. He carefully spooned his cum from your hole, ran the rag over your cunt. 
The action, no matter how gentle he meant it to be, had your toes curling and your body attempting to wiggle away in protest. Jeonghan hushed you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your hip. “I’m sorry, baby. But we can’t have you laying in cum all night.”
“I know,” you whined. “Hurts though. I’m sore.”
Jeonghan whined back, and you could see him mimicking your pout from the mirror. “I know. Poor darling, so thoroughly fucked by her boyfriend”
Realization shot through you at his words, quickly followed by mortification. You let out a little cry, digging your head into the blanket. Jeonghan, horrified that he had accidentally hurt you, immediately launched himself down the length of the bed. His hands went to your shoulders, tugging you, chanting your name.
You let Jeonghan move you, eyes wide and horrified. Jeonghan pressed down on you, hands cradling your cheeks and lips brushing over the spot between your brows.”Y/n! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital? Do I need to call your mom?”
You shook your head, your hands reaching up to still his face. “Jeonghan,” you began, voice high with hysteria, “how are we ever supposed to face Seungcheol after this?”
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