#i hope you like it a teensy tiny bit

[mybodyfails]

jeff satur - always you for @arewedoneyet

[lovlidollie]

hii can i request for crybaby!reader? >_< From what i can understand, Rafe is mean to her but he knows when to stop (does he?), so i imagine the first time she does something that pisses him off, like wearing a very short dress to some party or posting a very revealing selfie, obviously she doesn't do it with bad intentions, nor to make him angry, but that doesn't stop him from going completely crazy about it and filling her with messages and she doesn't understand why he's so angry :( then he can see in person that she doesnt really get it but he still acts mean for a while cause he loves seeing her all confused and teary :3

u r absolutely correct, rafe is so so so mean to her sometimes but he knows when he’s gone too far n when he should stop (theoretically) i love this sm i hope u enjoy lovely !

crybaby!reader who’s finally got the courage to put on the cute lil dress that she bought impulsively a couple weeks ago. it’s white and lacy and it makes her feel pretty! she even did her makeup and spritzed on extra perfume! she was sad that her rafey wouldn’t be able to come coz he was too busy doing business with barry, but she was sure that he’d like the dress too c:

she’s so excited to get out of the house n party with her friends that she doesn’t realise the dress is a teensy tiny bit too short. topper was hosting the party n when she shows up his eyes widen and his mouth drops, because he knew for a fact rafe would never let his girl wear something so short without him there. she greets him with a hug, n she’s so sweet that she thanks him for having her over.

a couple drinks in and crybaby!reader’s having the time of her life. she’s swaying about with her friends, giggling n having fun, smiling so wide when one of them pulls out their phone to snap a pic. she’s such a lightweight that she’s already tipsy n a little dizzy. the harsh light of her screen hurts her eyes but she manages to repost her friends story to hers! it’s such a cute pic she thinks, just as a ping comes through.

rafey ♡

the fuck do you think you’re wearing?

instantly her mood drops n a frown replaces her smile. did he — did he not like her dress? did he think it was ugly? already, she feels that dreadful lump rise up in her throat n she has to excuse herself to the bathroom.

crybaby

um

just a new dress i got

she waits with baited breath for his response, heart stuttering at the three bouncing bubbles. she’s biting her lips, leg bouncing anxiously against the tile.

rafey ♡

you seriously thought it was a good idea

you must be dumber than i thought

she promptly bursts into tears. she hates making him mad, it makes her feel like she’s disappointed him n that he doesn’t like her anymore.

crybaby

didnt

think it was that big of a deal :( jus thiught it was cute

on the other side of the screen rafe’s brows are furrowed, scowl deepening at each of her words. he’s been with her long enough to know that the typos are because her eyes are too blurry to type properly.

rafey ♡

‘cute’?

think your ass hanging out is ‘cute’?

think dressing up like a slut is ‘cute’ huh

the second i’m not around you go and do this

she’s ruined her makeup by this point, mascara running down her cheeks and lip wobbling so hard she can’t stop it even if she wanted to.

crybaby

m really sorry

i didnt mean to make u mad

promise rafey i didnt know it was short

jus really wantd to look ncie n pretty for u

rafey ♡

do you have any idea

how many guys probably stared at your ass tonight

it’s like you like to piss me off on purpose the fuck

fucking shit

there’s a three minute pause where rafe doesn’t respond or say anything at all and it has her losing her mind. she spams him with messages, apologising over and over again, telling him that she didnt mean to, that she’d do whatever he wanted if it meant he wasn’t mad. finally he responds;

rafey ♡

stay the fuck where you are.

coming to get your ass.

the full stops make her think that he’s really really mad at her. she sits there, hands shaking so hard she drops her phone. some douche yells behind the bathroom door, complaining that he has to take a piss n she has no choice but to open it and wobble off. self-consciously, she keeps pulling the hem of her dress down, teetering on her little kitten heels as she unsteadily moves down the stairs. she sees topper, concern filling his features once he notices her wet face. he sets his drink down, striding over immediately to lead her to a quiet corner of the house. top doesn’t say much, grimaces when he gets a text on his phone a few minutes later and gets up to leave. crybaby!reader’s too out of it to care. she just — doesn’t understand. doesn’t understand why rafe’s so mad at her :(

she rubs her eyes, smearing eyeshadow n glitter everywhere, and looks up just in time to see top walk back with rafe in tow. his lips are pressed into a straight line, jaw clenched, and eyes stormy. she stands up, stumbling into his arms. she wants nothing more but to be held n kissed n told that it was okay.

“top.” he says straightforwardly, giving him the signal to leave. rafe looks down at his girl, heart clenching at how ruined she looks. he knows he was being mean, he knows he shouldn’t have said half of what he said. he sucks on his teeth and holds her by the shoulders, eyeing her up and down. he can’t deny that she looks good. the dress flattered her, emphasised her pretty legs, n he feels a thrill of arousal go through him as he thinks of ripping the pathetic excuse of a dress off her.

“‘m really — hic — real sorry daddy, pl-please don’ be mad. please.” crybaby’s eyes are so red n puffy it almost makes rafe change his mind. almost.

“shit’s shorter than it was in the picture. the fuck were you — what the fuck were you even thinking huh? lemme guess, y’weren’t, right? i gotta do all the thinking f’you. can’t even leave y’by yourself for five minutes before you’re strippin’.” he’s got that mean, mocking tone that makes her wanna shrivel up n die. despite wanting to see how much longer he could draw this out, n as much as loves seeing her all teary n confused, guilt chips away at him. rafe opens his arms and flicks his head, and she crashes into him with a sob. past all her sniffles and wails she manages a, “‘m real— really sorry for disa— disappointin’ you.” she can barely get the words out before a fresh wave of tears overcome her.

rafe sighs deeply, letting her cry into his chest. “jus’ tryna protect you, what part of that don’t you get, kid.” he rubs her head gently, coaxing her into a calmer state. “not all guys are good guys. it’s fine if y’want to wear short shit, jus’ not when ‘m not there.” she nods furiously, agreeing with him instantly n it makes rafe feel high.

“none of this cryin’ shit now, hm? y’didn’t disappoint me, kiddo. ‘m sorry — uh — sorry f’bein’ so mean t’you. dad’s gotta be mean sometimes, y’know? it’s the only way he can be sure it’ll get through t’ya. gonna go home now — y’gonna come home w’daddy ’n you can show him your pretty dress there, ‘kay?” rafe pulls off his jacket and wraps it around her waist, covering the back of her thighs n her peeking ass. she cowers into his side, gripping his shoulder tightly, afraid that he’d leave her there.

he tugs her closer, leans down and presses a kiss at the crown of her head. “attagirl, there we go.”

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ make this drive last ‘til the end of this song | fushiguro megumi

wc: 1.2k

summary: you wish this traffic jam would last a bit longer. 

contains: f!reader in mind, college!megumi, pre-relationship stuff! mostly centered around having a crush!, yuuji and nobara are here!

a/n: i think megumi loves to listen to music!! stargazing by the neighbourhood reminds me of him, and the song that inspired this is pretty by col3trane & mahalia! (reminds me so much of him too)!! may or not be inspired by very personal feelings/thoughts!!; for mi luv @soumies

part: 1 | 2 | 3 series m.list: by your passenger seat

It’s always just you and Megumi on the drive back home. 

For the last stretch of it, at least.

You like to think you’re friends, being in the same friend circle for the good part of the year. And if there’s anything you’ve learned from your crazy group of four, it’s that Megumi always ends up being the designated driver for everything—road trips, lunch breaks, late night food runs, and parties. Especially parties. 

Someone has to stay sober when Yuuji’s always too eager to drink anything that’s handed to him. 

You also live nearest to Megumi (coincidentally), just a few streets down from the building that houses his unit. This means you’re always picked up first and dropped off last, consequently making his passenger seat yours (indefinitely). 

The seat is practically adjusted to you by now, backrest pulled back a bit and the seat itself brought forward slightly. Because you get cold easily, the air vents on your side are always pushed up, allowing only a small slip of air to flow through. 

You notice that it never changes—all these adjustments, so it’s either people don’t mind or maybe no one else has been sitting there after all. 

(You don’t know how to feel when a part of you, maybe just a teensy, tiny bit, hopes it’s the latter). 

As tough as it is to get through the impossibly high and extremely fortified walls one (1) Fushiguro Megumi has set around himself, you think you’ve found your way in, slipping yourself into the space between his passenger door and sitting right beside him on the extremely well-kept leather of his carseat. 

(He’s particular when it comes to cleaning). 

It was awkward at first. Of course, it was. When two introverts are alone in a car for a 30-minute drive back from a college party, they aren’t bound to become immediate best friends. But you try to talk a little, ask a harmless question or two, comment on the music he plays—the safe things to say.

And you get closer that way. 

Megumi doesn’t clear his throat anymore when it gets too quiet, already used to the comfortable silence between you. You give each other small updates on what you both did earlier that day, and what you plan to do the next, for the weekend, and the following week, even. And you try hard not to think about it too much, but when he throws a little laugh your way when you talk about the haircut you did yourself in seventh grade, you think you feel an extra thump against your ribcage. 

Another thing you learn is that Megumi loves music; there’s always some obscure, low-beat song that he’s tapping to when you get in. You discover more of his taste through the playlists he plays, and you like it—

(—maybe him a little bit more than the music, though). 

.

The traffic is unmoving today, endless red dots flashing along every lane for the past 40-minutes you’ve been on this road—there’s a steady patter of rain on the windshield, wipers automatically going back and forth as he gives you full control of the music. 

You’d just dropped off Yuuji when you took a detour to avoid some flooded area, and now you’re stuck in a terrible traffic jam this late at night, with cars barely moving inch-by-inch a few minutes at a time. Megumi doesn’t give any indication that he’s bothered except for the slight sigh he makes when he leans back on his seat after pulling up the handbrake.

And you think, with your music playing over the comfortable silence you’ve built, being in his passenger seat one too many times—this feels nice. 

Any other day and you’d hate traffic as much as the next person, but not right now. 

There’s movement far ahead and Megumi prepares to shift gears, accelerating the car only to stop again after a few minutes of getting far. You look over to find him tapping on the steering wheel, one hand on his thigh, relaxed as red glows on his face from the stoplight. 

You feel calm, content even, if you’re really thinking. Now you know why some people have a thing for night drives in the rain. 

Megumi’s eyelashes are long, pretty, stretching on for miles—and you wonder if this drive with him can extend to the length of them, if you can stay in this traffic jam a little longer just to be in this moment with him. 

“Sorry, are you cold?” Megumi asks, interrupting your stare.

He probably thinks that’s the reason you’re staring, if his fingers hovering over the aircondition controls says anything. Heat rises to your cheeks. 

You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. Just spaced out, sorry.” 

“I have a sweater at the back, if you need.” he motions, arm already out reaching for it. 

It’s summer right now, that’s why you insisted on keeping the AC on full blast; you don’t want him to suffer from the heat just because you’re cold. So you’re a bit curious, because really, Megumi has no reason to keep a sweater in his car for this weather, heck, he didn’t even wear one to the party tonight.

You don’t want to assume anything but—

“Brought it for when you get cold,” 

He says it plainly, so casually as if he doesn’t know that it echoes in the pitter-patter of your heartbeat. If you’re being completely rational, it probably doesn’t mean anything, but he hands you the gray sweater over the console so simply as if to say: of course, this is for you, who else would I bring it for? 

As if you shouldn’t even wonder anymore. 

The gesture endears you so much you can’t help but take it. 

“Thanks,” you smile sheepishly, and he nods, the corners of his lips curling slightly as he looks back to the road. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt to put the sweater on, and think, this is a very bad idea because all you smell now is his detergent, that fresh, clean scent that he walks around with condensed into oversized cotton—oversized cotton that is now engulfing you completely. 

You sigh, buckling your seatbelt again as the car moves forward. 

The traffic is clearing up now, Megumi making fewer stops as he drives along the main road. You give it maybe 8? 7? minutes until you arrive home. You’re proud of yourself tonight, flutter-feelings aside, because you think you picked the perfect music for the drive. 

Megumi can never hide his distate for anything—songs included; when he doesn’t like something, he squints his right eye just a little bit, an involuntary reaction you think. You’ve caught it a few times before (usually when it’s Yuuji’s music playing), but his face has been relaxed this entire night, fingers tapping to whatever tune you put on. 

When you arrive in front of your apartment building, your playlist shuffles to your favorite song. Megumi knows because you never shut up about it, asking for it to be played every single time on the drive back home. And when he turns to you, you look almost sad, fixing your things as you prepare to get off. There’s that cute, small pout that he notices you always try to hide when you want to say something but don’t. 

So as you’re about to unbuckle your seatbelt, Megumi shifts the gear to drive and says—

“Maybe after this song.”

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[ddejavvu]

Can i request a hot interrogator but w spencer😭😭and he recognizes her symptoms of attraction and theyre both just so awkward and derek or someone else has to come in and save him

i deviated from your plotline just a teensy tiny bit and it's not as focused on how they both can read her but it is mentioned! i hope that's alright <3 also i did tag this with morgan's name because towards the end he's teasing her just as much and i'd fall to my knees for him in an instant so i think that's fair

--

You give yourself away immediately with your reaction to seeing Spencer walk in. You don't know it, but the doctor has been watching your demeanor for five minutes on the other side of the glass, and only when your eyes met his own did you become tense.

Before you'd been almost bored, but not in the overconfident way that criminals often are. You were more restlessly bored, drumming your fingers on the table and peering intently at the graffiti etched into the metal surface.

When he steps inside you straighten to greet him, but words fail you as your throat runs dry. The most handsome man you've ever seen, something straight out of a romance novel steps into the room, and something thuds to the pit of your stomach.

You're not guilty but you feel it, you feel like a criminal under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Hello, Y/N," He offers, smiling measuredly at you, "I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm here to question you on what you might have witnessed earlier."

You'd been in a gas station during an armed robbery. The robber hadn't shot you, but that was only for time's sake, as putting a bullet through your chest would have taken away valuable seconds that he chose instead to use rushing out the back door and away from the sirens out front.

You'd been at the business end of a gun, but still you're more panicked now, hands lowering themselves into your lap when they show signs of trembling.

"Can you remember what the shooter looked like?" He asks.

Brown hair.

"He had brown hair," You speak for the first time since the agent's entry.

No he didn't.

He had blonde hair. The man in front of you has brown hair, tucked behind his ears endearingly.

"Or- uh, blonde. He was blonde."

"Blonde hair," He nods encouragingly, his lips a warm pinkish shade as he sits down across from you, "That's good. Do you remember how tall he was?"

Spencer is tall. He's tall even when seated, like he is now, his stature surely intimidating when compared to your own, and you blink the thought away, trying to recall where on the shelf beside him the man's shoulder had come up to.

"He was a little taller than the shelves," You recall, keeping your eyes on a rather crude word etched into the metal tabletop to keep yourself from ogling Dr. Reid, "Maybe 6'1."

"Alright, good." Spencer praises, and you feel your limbs actually melting, surely mush by now. He hesitates, placing his hands atop the cool desktop, "Y/N, I'd like to do a cognitive interview with you."

You wait for further explanation, but when it comes, you guiltily wish you had been killed earlier. Because if you were dead Doctor Spencer Reid wouldn't take your hands in his own, and tell you to close your eyes in a smooth, low voice.

"I want you to put yourself back there," He prompts, squeezing your hands gently, "But I'm right here. I know you must have been scared in the moment, but I need you to help us with this, and try to remember what his face looked like. Can you do that?"

You can't muster words, but you nod, and evidently Spencer's eyes are open to catch it. He squeezes your hands again, "Alright. You're standing in the gas station. You're getting breakfast before work. You hear shouting, then a gunshot. Where do you look?"

You look at the backs of your eyelids, desperately willing away the mental image of Spencer Reid's face.

"What do you do?"

You pray that he's not a mind-reader, that he can't hear the words 'adorable' and 'terrifying' and 'perfect' all at once.

"Y/N," He prompts, after a moment of your silence, "What do you do?"

"I can't-" Your eyes snap open, and you wrench your hands out of his grasp, "I'm- I'm sorry, I can't do this."

Spencer's hands come out to hover in front of him, a placating gesture but one that doesn't work.

"Okay, that's alright. But please- sit down," He watches warily as you stand, heading for the door like you're exiting a cafe and not a secure government facility, "Y/N, I need to ask you a few more questions-"

"Woah there," The door opens before you can reach it, but the man that shoulders his way through shows no sign of letting you out. He's tall, darker-skinned than Spencer, and broad chested, something you really don't need to think about after the hand-holding fiasco.

"We can't let you leave just yet," The man smiles sympathetically, and his hand comes to rest oh-so-naturally on your bicep as he turns you back towards the table, "I know you're freaking out; anyone would after looking into the barrel of a gun. But you're safe now, okay? And we need your help to keep other people safe. So let's sit down," The man guides you back into your chair, and you think you might have dropped straight to your knees if he'd asked you to. He keeps his large hands firmly, warmly on your shoulders, and as Spencer takes your hands in his again he squeezes them.

"Alright Pretty Boy," The man behind you speaks, and you swear you can hear a glimmer of amusement in his voice despite not being able to see his face, "On with the interview. Don't worry Y/N, we'll do this together."

[guppybibi]

𖦹 pairing: Dad!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Crack & fluff, not proofread, ooc i think, d/n = daughters name, mild cursing

𖦹 notes: more self indulgent fics, this is bad lmao

And the world’s best husband who constantly makes his wife worried sick, award goes to Simon Riley! May we get a round of applause to commend this man? No? Alright, I’ll see myself out then. Hey, he doesn’t do it intentionally (most of the time). You gotta live a little, it’s not like he’s doing anything reckless. Oh but who can blame your heart when it dropped to the pits of your stomach upon seeing Simon carry your cherubic little toddler on one hand? He’s balancing her there like she’s a trained cheerleader! Maybe in the future, but she could barely even balance her own bobble head! Sure you may have been a teensy weensy bit over dramatic about it but accidents should be prevented as much as possible.

“Darlin’ look it’s fine, she’s even giggling.” He says just a little bit too casually, referring to your daughter who’s currently enjoying the little circus act they were performing. “Nope, put her down right this instant.” You command, and if Simon was scared of one thing it’d surely be you when you're angry. Guns and weapons would never compare to the fury of his wife. With a huff from him and a whiny complaint from your daughter, he sets her down onto the grassy yard.

“Oh what a killjoy, mama..” She puffs up her rosy cheeks, crossing her arms as she feigns hurt. You chuckle, looking up at Simon before speaking. “She’s got your accent. The rosy cheeks too.” You comment, lowering your head down to see your daughter avoiding eye contact with you as she acted offended.

"Which cheeks-”

“Nope, don't continue that sentence.” You could practically hear the way his lips formed a pout, copying your daughter. Pathetic, who knew a burly military man could get so soft for his little girl? “Awh come on eh? Don't be such a killjoy ‘luv.” He teases, using the same tone his little girl used.

Or maybe that one time Simon was blasting music the loudest the speaker could handle, it had a few curses and swear words here and there but his baby girl wouldn't pick up on it. He doubts she's even listening to daddy’s ‘bad’ music taste, so he's in the safe zone for sure!

Oh boy was he wrong…It was one of those days, you two were sharing chores—with you washing the dishes while he vacuumed around the house and hummed along to the song playing. While D/N was happily stacking her ABC blocks, she was silently listening to the song her daddy was playing. Even mumbling some of the parts since her daddy keeps putting this certain song on repeat. She barely knew the alphabet to begin with so she wouldn't even pick up on the words on the song, right?

“Mama!” She calls out, bringing her empty baby bottle as she signals for more milk. “Oh yes baby, I’ll fill your bottle right after I finish these.” You respond gently, rinsing the soapy suds away. “No, now bitch!” And with those words alone it felt like the toddler broke the sound barrier, silence filling the Riley’s usually noisy home when Simon slowly turned off the speaker. You and Simon share a look that plainly said “What the fuck.”, the man set the vacuum aside as it was time for another parenting lesson.

“Kiddo, that's no way to speak to your mum.” He lectures gently, taking her feelings into consideration. “Mama told you she’ll help you after, right? It's bad to call her names, mama sacrificed a lot for you.”

"But-” “No buts, kiddo. Your mum didn't spend 7 hours pushing you out and I didn't have to watch her scream out in pain like a demon just for you to curse at her.” Simon hoped he wasn't too harsh with his child, knowing they're tiny hearts are pretty fragile at this age. But he wasn't going to let it just slide, he watched his baby girl approach her mother and apologize. A smile gracing his face when he sees you forgive her and place a delicate kiss on her chubby cheek, he goes up to you once he sees the child take off to play in the living room.

“I think we should start considering the swear jar now.” You comment, placing a hand on your hip. “Definitely.”

“No more playing songs with any swear words from now on, Simon.” “Yes ma’am.”

[m0llygunn]

had a cute thought: reader speaking softly to eddie as he’s asleep. reader does this occasionally and they whisper sweet nothings to eddie or tells eddie about their day (he doesn’t know this since he’s passed out) though, this time he’s pretending to be asleep. not for any reason, he just didn’t move or anything when reader entered his room and sat next to him in bed. would eddie stay pretending to be asleep as the reader whispers to him or would he surprise and embarrass them by responding? 💕

anyway it’s not much to go off of i apologize, but i hope to get ur input on it! have a good day x

this is sooooo cute!!! don't even apologize omg i love this so much! i personally think that eddie is an act first, think later kind of guy, so embarrassing you would be nothing but an afterthought; however, he'd also be intrigued to hear what you had to say and would continue pretending until you were done (or until his lovey dovey heart couldn't take it anymore hehe). then once he got his fill of sweet nothings, he'd absolutely be surprising you and littering you with kisses and his own sweet nothings! I wrote a quick little something-something inspired by this bc i love it!! but i changed your idea a teensy tiny bit (hope its okay!)

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

Eddie loves you dearly— so, so, so dearly. You know that, he knows that, and he’s pretty sure that every person in the country knows that.

He loves you so much, but he would oh-so-dearly love to go to sleep right now. 

The only issue is you’ve got what he likes to call the ‘zoomies’. Yes— like puppies get when they’re all full of energy and excitement, and just have to have everyone’s attention. You’re being silly, and giggly, and prodding at him to entertain yourself— which he loves and finds so endearing, but after a full day of work, band practice, and then doing all the chores that just won’t leave him alone, he’s wiped clean.

So when you continue giggling, making yourself laugh by doing things like squeezing his cheeks together, and playing with his hair by putting it in all different directions that you think is just so funny, he ‘falls asleep’.

At first you don’t buy it.

“Eddie, I know you’re faking,” you said, still giggly as ever. 

Eddie responded in a grumbled and sleepy ‘huh’, that had you second guessing. 

“Are you really falling asleep?” 

Eddie hummed quietly, sealing the deal. 

“No fun,” you pouted quietly, leaning into him. 

Under the weight of your shoulder pushing against his chest, he pretended to rouse the slightest bit, quietly murmuring your name, putting on the best performance of his life. You made a quiet little sound, like a sighed defeat.

He felt bad making his poor baby upset like this, all pouty and huffy, but it’s late and you should be going to sleep anyway (or maybe he’s just tired and trying to justify this one teeny tiny little white lie).

As the seconds on the clock ticked by, you seemed to accept that he was asleep. Giggly-no-more, you settle into his side, laying close to him, both of you cozied under the blankets together. Despite the warmth and calmness that now encapsulates the room, Eddie was so wrapped up in selling the idea that he was asleep that he forgot to actually fall asleep. 

Just as he had begun to nod, you placed a flat hand to his chest, stirring him back awake.

“Just keep sleeping, Eddie. Okay?” you had whispered. It was an odd tone that you used, and an even odder phrase, seeming almost like you were up to something. He kept his eyes closed as you paused, keeping your hand pressed to his chest. It felt like a trap to him, like somehow you knew he was faking. In a quick decision, he decided to stick to his guns and continue his facade. 

“Eddie?” you had said not long after, voice raising the slightest bit louder. 

With a quiet hum from your lips, he felt your hand move from his chest, fingertips gravitating upwards, brushing over his bangs, pushing them back with a gentle lightness that was almost tickle inducing.

Voice honeyed and sugary sweet, “I love you,” whispered from your lungs, making his chest squeeze. 

Your fingers brushed against his forehead again, grazing so softly down to his cheek, and he questioned whether or not he had actually fallen asleep. With the edge of your nail coasting across his chin, he decided he was still very much awake, he’s not dreaming just yet. 

Only now he was faced with a dilemma. Does he do what he so desperately wants to do? Give up his act just to kiss you? Or does he continue pretending to be asleep, keeping you blissfully unaware of how he’s deceiving you?

“Thank you for loving me,” you whispered even more quietly than before, pulling Eddie from his internal debate. “I never could have imagined finding someone who is as kind as you are.” You let out a quiet breath, gathering your thoughts. “And for you to love me… I’m the luckiest person in the world,” you continued. 

With every word, you took shallow breaths that fueled your whispers. Eddie felt his whole chest squeeze all at a once. His heart pitter-pattered happily in his chest and his lower lip threatened to jet out, revealing all of his ever-growing big emotions, but you continued, forcing him to pause and listen. 

“‘Cause you’re so nice, and funny— and I love that you let me squeeze your cheeks and poke your bum and make your bangs all messy,” you giggled softly to yourself, and Eddie was a melted puddle of a man at your side. 

He let you continue, selfishly wanting to hear more. 

“And I love that you are so good at being yourself and… I don’t know…” you trailed off. “I guess, being around you has helped me be myself too. Thank you for loving me,” you sighed. You’re starting to sound tired, no doubt getting closer and closer to the cusp of sleep, but you push forward, voice turning into the cadence of a groggy ramble. “I love you so much, Eddie, and I hope you’re having really good dreams right now because I love you and you deserve them.”

Such a powerful ability you have, to be able to reduce him to a love-stricken mess of a man. All it took were a few sweet nothings whispered in your gooey, syrupy sweet voice and he was melting. A mess of a man that suddenly had the slightest threatening sting behind his eyelids as his soul swooned for you. 

The final straw; when your lips connected to his chest in a loving, drawn out kiss, his fate was set. He couldn’t not kiss you. Without even blinking his eyes open, he was pushing himself over you just enough to press kisses wherever he could land them. 

“Eddie!” you exclaimed in true shock. He pressed kisses across your cheek and down your jaw. 

“I fucking love you,” he rasped through his tired voice. 

“You— you’re sleeping,” you huffed. “Eddie,” you drew out in a whine. 

“Thank you for loving me,” he said with all the conviction in the world. He truly was a lucky guy to get to call you his.

His kisses expand down to your neck, just dainty things, light presses of his lips that he hopes translate the way his heart soars for you. Gentle, chaste kisses, one after the other, all the way down to over your heart. He presses a matching kiss to the one you had given him, drawing it out, adding all of his love and adoration into it, just for you.

“I love you,” he promised, lifting his head to catch your gaze. A cross of embarrassment and smitten affection spans across your face, and he moves in for the kill— a kiss straight to your lips. 

“You were pretending,” you pouted, furrowing your brows at him. 

“Never,” he lied.

“You were.”

“But you’ll forgive me because you love me, right?” he smiled as big as he could, doing his best to butter you up. He watches the way your coy smile breaks and he considers it a win.

You didn’t dignify him with a response, you merely rolled your eyes before pushing yourself into his chest, cuddling close enough to hide your face and your growing smile. 

“I’m going to sleep,” you huffed against his skin. 

“I love you,” he replied proudly, both smug and happy. 

“Love you,” you mumbled back, and he swore that even if you were mad at him in the morning, it was all worth it. 

Maybe he ought to pretend to be asleep more often. 

──────────── ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

i hope you liked it! sorry if there were any spelling mistakes! thank you and hope you're having a good day as well! <3

[kalims]

the package deal

summary. random scenarios I think about daily

content. scenarios, fluff, not proofread

featuring. jamil, ace, floyd, gender neutral

note. @merotwst hello beh para ito sayo 🥺 SORY ITS VERY LATE I GOT BUSY

scenarios are by order of the names ^^ & double post as an apology for inactive-ness LOL

your personal basketball shield

"what in the great seven are you doing?"

"I'm doing nothing, I'm completely innocent." you nervously reply before adding; "and I'm um... a student from room C."

well the first part made you look suspicious now.

but the second part is a lie though.

you in fact, are not a student from room C. you purposely left out mentioning what year you were in all together in favor of hopefully, having your identity still anonymous the remainder you'd still be inside the court.

speaking of. you aren't even supposed to be here right now.

the student eyes you weirdly, and you refrain from sweating bullets under their gaze.

for your own sake you just ignore them and focus on the court, your eyes immediately zeroes on the seemingly tight block (attempt at this point) at floyd, but he doesn't have any problem getting past them at all. you blink and he had already slammed the ball in and hung off the net like he's trying to play monkey bars.

to be fair your getup is immensely out of place, you're wearing all black, the hood is over your head and you're wearing shades which wouldn't have been strange if you hadn't wore it indoors. a black jacket to match when it's 36 degrees outside? yeah right.

in all honesty you're trying to gaslight yourself that you're just here to show support for one of your friends but you hadn't spared a wink of a gaze in ace's direction ever since you had entered.

instead you're staring at an empty spot at the bench, usually occupied by a certain someone you know. yet it isn't, you're just staring in hopes that he'll magically appear out of thin air and leave you something to stare at.

you're a mixture of confusion, and disappointment. this isn't very independent boss of me. you sweatdrop, pining over a boy... was not part of your plan.

maybe getting hit by a basketball flying off court and miraculously in your direction wasn't too but thankfully before you could screech bloody hell and break your nose, a palm reaches out and literally slaps the ball away casually?

you peek out your arm and peek up at jamil who doesn't even look at you and stares in the direction of which where the ball had come from with unblinking eyes (it seemed kind of intense but you don't want to question it.) he's wearing his signature club wear, his water bottle present in his other hand and a towel over his shoulder. the slightly dampened fringes that frame his face tells you that he had gone to wash up.

"you should be aware of your surroundings." he chides.

and he finally looks at you, you swear you just exploded.

you don't have it in yourself to reply to the echo of an apology from the court but is only able to stare dumbly at jamil who stares back.

... this is awkward.

"thanks..." you trail off, flabbergasted and warm as hell. maybe you shouldn't have used a jacket? maybe it was the weather? definitely!

before you know it, he stalks off with a tilt of his head and you believe you're being delusional again when he keeps looking in your direction whenever he scores like... it's for you.

covering the edges of a table

"I can't believe you spend time with trey."

unsurprisingly there's a deadpan directed to ace, not from deuce, riddle, nor cater but from you. sure he's just teensy tiny little bit bothered because well, it's not like he considered those other people romantically and there's been a silent promise to himself to prove that he is in fact; not as dumb as you think he is when you look at him like that.

usually when 'that' comes into mind ace would have imagined it to be a look he gives you daily, like you're sure he's the biggest idiot of the world but he's your idiot. he definitely does not want to get into detail but it's those looks people in love give which he used to cringe about.

ironically enough he's one of the subjects daydreaming about it.

you get him? he wanted that look not this one.

ace throws up his arms in the air with a deep sigh. "I live with him but that doesn't magically make me good in cooking, plus... trey bakes!" he rolls his eyes, speaking with a matter-of-factly tone.

you squint at him.

"have you not tasted trey's homemade dishes for dinner? those are to die for."

"no I haven't." he snaps.

"to think you even have the resident cook of scarabia mentoring you..." you continue, dodging a spatula that was thrown at your head. you frown at him in mock disappointment. "now now, you really wanna get charged for assault?"

from across the counter ace gives you the forbidden triple fuck you fingers. there's a silly pink apron he wears because you stole the only one which doesn't give his eyes a seizure, a red one. red looks good on you, he thinks but then his eye twitches.

when he had invited you over most of the second and third years had gone out for a camp, right now the first years are rejoicing the absence of their strict dorm leader and cooped up themselves in their respective rooms, eating every single junk food in the rules.

so that meant no one was really willing to cook, even ace wanted take out but you gracefully intervened.

to be fair you were hungry and the food would arrive at like 2 hours with how much ordering the residents had done.

"I think it's ready." he scratches his head, looking more unsure than you.

"you think?"

just then the timer beeps.

"how hard is it to make curry..." you shake your head, grabbing a set of utensils... to use, somehow.. even you aren't that experienced because all crowley does is send you microwavable food from the convenience stores and only the pizza was decent enough to call nice.

his brow creases. "not that hard."

"do it then."

"..."

ace just stares at you, leans over and slaps you over the head. while you've been a victim of many of these, you didn't expect him to literally lean over the counter to do that. "assault." you comment dryly, you curse under your breath when it goes flying under the table.

"it's your word over mine." he shrugs. blinking when you crouch. "what are you doing?"

"I dropped them because of your criminal ass." you roll your eyes, reaching over to grab the scattered utensils all over the floor, great. now you have to wash them too.

only when you realize that there was a possibility of hitting your head (which by the way, was never a fun experience. you're sure there's a carved up line from how many times you've hit it on your head.) when your head indeed bumps, but it's not exactly the hard surface that sends a jolt of sharp pain up your head.

instead there is a soft cushion. it ruffles your hair a bit and you're immensely confused.

you immediately look up when you stand up, unharmed but ace is just looking away from you. stirring the... pot which is weird cause there hasn't been any seasonings put in it.

you shrug.

missing the red ears.

getting hit by a ball to his face but he pretends it doesn't hurt because you're there

you're surprised that basketball even exists in this world when they apparently can't tell the difference between magishift and football, you're practically itching to slap someone when you explain the similarities between the two and they still have the audacity to deadpan at you like they're the most different things to ever exist!

namely, some idiot named ace trappola.

maybe leona too since he was giving you a stinky side eye but you don't want to get slapped back too.

what you appreciate though is floyd, you can't tell if he's just a big, strong ball of idiocy or the smartest person between all the people listening cause he seemed to be the only one interested in what you were saying.

and he even agreed that they were similar! albeit even if his usual manners are confusing floyd isn't that much of a guy that agrees with people a lot so it's a shocker.

and you're confused why he seems to be so attached to you. the tweels are almost always together, where one is, always is the other trailing along. so you're a little concerned because you can't take the presence of the resident friendly terrorists of the schools.

floyd was always following you around till he just wordlessly shoves a flyer of a game that's about to occur in his club, a wide grin on his face as he boasts about how he's on the starting line up and 'going to crush the other team.' literally or figuratively? you don't know but.. probably both.

basically he wanted you to watch so here you are.

not to exaggerate or anything but he is indeed, crushing the other team. a whooping 17 point lead between them, of course NRC leading. you'd be more confused if they weren't the one in first if they have floyd. (who apparently attends practice like one time a week but just enough to stay at the club...)

not to mention before it even started floyd had mentioned something along the lines of decimating the other team for your name. which is floating around the borderline of romantic and insanity.

for your delusions you will believe it romantic.

you're torn if you should cheer for the team, cause you know. you are technically part of NRC so it's natural but you know floyd would get all pouty, in a bad mood so you hesitate. vice versa because if you cheer for floyd you're gonna get weird looks cause so far, he's been doing selfish plays, not passing but scoring.

well this is the least villainous thing a student from a school that worships villians can do...

floyd is playing well, you would not like to admit that you're staring because he looks a little too good in that uniform... sweaty, pushing his hair back with a grin as he glowers at his opponents and sends them into peeing their pants. it works though cause they almost always hesitate when floyd is the one they're up against.

just wow.

you're just 100% sure you're watching a basketball god who would ascend to a higher life form if he wasn't so lazy till there's an abrupt silence that definitely isn't normal.

thankfully you catch the sight of a ball being... shoved to floyd's face like a dunk? should you really be thankful to witness that.

and for once entirety of the room agreed on one thing for that person. rest in piece.

floyd rubs his face and narrows his eyes, it almost looked like he was about to tear up but you swear he looked at you and immediately forced a wobbly grin, closing his eyes so the tears wouldn't fall and opens them to stare at the poor guy intensely.

in the distance you could hear a vague chuckle of jade.

"you don't know where to dunk, lil' guy?" floyd flashes them a sharp toothed grin, ironically you witness their soul leaving their body at the sheer intensity he excludes. most held their breaths cause they're sure that he would have started quietly threatening them but... there's no threats.

almost like he's holding back to act unfazed?

the 'lil guy' gulps and can't even muster up an answer.

floyd smiles at him. "I'll show you."

before the game ended that player left with a red round stain on their face, clear evidence of floyd's 'accidental payback.'

... now he's asking if you've seen how he's carried the team.

[sanaexus]

please please please

an isagi yoichi social media fic

pairing: isagi yoichi x model!reader

synopsis : modeling was fun, especially when you go to make friends and what happens when that exact friend goes to the same high school? the friendship of course continues into college. where you get your heart broken and the internet gets to know but then you meet a certain someone that makes you fall for them. so what happens then? chaos.

tags : social media au, celebrity au, college au, strangers to lovers, miscommunication, fluff, teensy bit of angst (not bc of isagi he's a baby), crack, humor (hopefully i do justice to the last two)

warnings : drinking and mentions of being drunk, swear words, fem reader, sometimes suggestive but nothing too bad

status : ongoing (19/06/2024-??/??/????)

-playlist

teasers

número uno número dos número tres (i swear i mean no offense)

profiles

name's baes

happiness n maturity is realizing you're gay

chapters ¡! ❞

chapters with written parts has a "✩" symbol

era ¡!: highschool

era ¡!: college

episodes ¡!: 01. "you can't just ask people to suck your dick" 02. "i don't know i'm panicking but i'm too hot to worry" ✩ 03. "this better be a fucking joke" ✩

taglist for this series is open¡! taglist (you can click this link or just ask in the comments<3)

the first divider was by @/xxbimbobunnyxx. all credits to her!

omg my first series? like a proper series?? i'm so excited for this smh. i hope i don't js lose interest in the middle. i'm still figuring out the tiny details of the story but i do have the plot planned a bit sort of kinda. i don't know how long i want it to be exactly but we'll roll with it<3 also thank you to @melodiclune for helping me figuring out alot of this shit (i love her)

[luvhotchner]

Maybe a text fic where the reader is related to Emily, or Rossi. Either one. And finds out that aaron and the reader are dating so they go all protective. And questioning him about everything the reader likes, And then he answers them, and all shocked because none of the readers passed relationships couldn't answer any of those questions before. Please.

━ Relative

summary: the secret gets out that hotch is dating dave’s niece.

warnings/pairings: hotch x BAU!fem!rossi!reader, established relationship, swearing, slight angst?

hi!! thank you so much for your request and i’m sorry it took so long for me to write! i made it so that reader is related to rossi! i changed it a teensy tiny bit but i still hope you like it! i was thinking of doing one like this but reader is related to emily so stay in touch for that!! anyways praying that you like it ❤️

also, reader calls dave “zio” which i looked up and apparently that’s uncle in italian but i could be wrong 😭

━ ★ ━

tag list for hotch:

@boccacciobunny @guacam011y @hotchhner @samaldonado5 @rousethemouse

[loolingz]

soft phone sex with gojo, might be a little ooc, 1.2k words <3 looli revival!!

“are you alone?”

when the conversations start like this so late in the night, you know what’s about to happen. still, it does manage to cut you off guard- even just a little bit. so you weren’t able to hide the hitch in your breath very well. just like he wasn’t able to hide the low, low chuckle that followed immediately after your quiet admission of guilt. you know him too well. and he, you. 

“maybe” you draw out, voice light and airy and playful as you respond into the phone. he laughs again at your attempt to play coy because you both know what you’re doing. it’s the same thing every single time. you both know that you’re taking the phone and the line and sitting on the edge of your shared bed- the one that always feels so empty and cold when he has to stay away from home for a night or two. you both know that right now, you’re listening very, very carefully for the pitter-patter of tiny feet or the quiet creaking of the bedroom, hoping you don’t have any uninvited young guest scampering around past their bedtime. “are you alone?”

and you both know that you’re now lifting up the edges of your nightgown and slipping your panties down to your ankles now that you know that the coast is clear and your husband’s loving voice is purring in your ear.

“you know I am, sweetheart .” he hums at the sound of your sultry voice and the call of his title in such a lewd manner. and you’re almost too ashamed to admit just how turned on a few words make you. but you can’t help it. it hasn’t even been that long yet, and you already miss him. your body- the parts now being uncovered in the chilly air of your bedroom longs for his touch. goosebumps are already littering your skin and your nipples are perking up and pebbling. almost as if he was here, right beside you. ready to keep you warm, and safe, and most of all? “are you touching yourself for me?”

keeping you loved.

you smile into the phone as you opt not to rely at first. instead, you decide to lie back on the bed. letting the familiar smell of his side of the comforter surround you as your body makes contact. the phone line tugs and stretches a little bit as you bring it with you. but you’re able to bring it up to your ear and tuck it in your shoulder all nice and snug without too much trouble. And with you let yourself get comfortable. hiking up your legs and placing your feet flat on top of the bed. drawing up your nightgown even further. and resting your hand in the valley between your breasts and letting your hands move around on their own. touching your breasts. brushing your fingers against your skin. like you wish he could. like you  know  he would. if only he was here.  if only, if only.

“maybe I am, ” You say into the phone, repeating the same sing-songy tone that you had on earlier as your smile grows just a teensy bit more. “maybe I’m not.”

almost instantly, you hear a sigh. on the other side of the phone, you know gojo is getting a little impatient with you. you don’t blame him too. you know how hard he trains. and you can imagine just how long of a day he’s had. barking orders at those who never seem to listen. the training he endures that never seems to end. and so many more things that you know you’re not privy to, especially after his climb in the ranks. but you can’t help it. you just can’t help it. he left you alone here. alone on the bed. alone, alone, alone with only his voice to comfort you. 

so of course you were going to give a little tease. just a little one, at least. because it’s only natural. because it’s only fair. because he’s doing it to you right now. 

just letting you hear the sound of his voice and not the warmth of his hands. 

“sweetheart, ” he calls out to you through the phone, voice strained and breathing a little tighter than before. out of instinct, you find yourself licking at your lips and biting them as the hand on your chest slowly travels down, and down, and down. you know the sounds that follow after all too well. the rustling of clothes. the quiet clinking of metal. the soft groans. it’s telling.  too  telling. the hidden neediness in his voice. the subtle way he begs with just the call of a nickname.  your  nickname. it’s telling. because you know him just as well as he knows you. “i need you to touch yourself for me.  please .”

because you know him.

and because you know him so well, you  know  that he’s gotten started without you. you can just tell. he has already gotten started without you. maybe it was while the phone was ringing. maybe it was while you were still talking- still  teasing  him. maybe it was even before he decided to call you. But you can just  tell . that he’s already pulled down his trousers. that he’s already pulled out free his cock. and that the sounds you heard were him freeing himself even further from the confines of his clothesand his determination to be the best striker. because more than his resolve, he wants you. he  needs  you. he  misses  you. as much as you feel all those same things for him.

and suddenly you don’t  want  to be a tease. suddenly you don’t want to make a big show about touching every part of your body except that he wants you to- that you  need  to- the most. suddenly you realize that you just want what you wanted all along.

him.  

“I am…” you tell him in a rush, just as your fingers find some of the wetness pooling in between your legs. you swipe it- coating some of your fingers tips with your own arousal and go immediately for your clit. you draw a sharp breath, feeling your own sense of neediness crop up now that you’re touching the most sensitive part of your body. but you don’t want to stop there. so you don’t. you reach out your other hand and take a fistful of one of your boobs. grip firm and tight like the way satoru does to you. you squeeze at it before moving your fingers along to play with your nipples. pinching them and rolling them so carefully between two fingers that it starts getting your hips shifting and your voice rising in a way that you imagine is unbefitting of a young woman. but you don’t care anymore. you don’t. because right now? you just want to close your eyes. you just want to block all sound. but most of all? “ I am, toru…I’m touching myself….all for you .”

you just want to focus on him.

“all for me, sweetheart?” 

because maybe if you focus hard enough. maybe if you imagine hard enough.

“a-all of you.”

if you  wish  hard enough.

“there’s my good girl. ”

then maybe the warmth you’re feeling now will start to feel it does when he’s the one touching you.

[inkykeiji]

character: zayne genre: fluff! notes: wrote this as a teeny tiny comfort piece for myself!! deciding to share it here in the hopes that maybe it can bring some comfort to someone else, too! warnings: daddy kink without the kinkiness, reader takes medication and suffers from unspecified health issues, reader is female words: 880

Thinking about Daddy Zayne who is also Doctor Zayne, who is simultaneously and consistently both, the line between the two smudged and blurred and bleeding into one another as they infuse his soul, a caretaker in the purest, rawest form; who is rigidly meticulous when it comes to your health, especially your daily medications and vitamins.

He knows you sometimes forget to take your pills, sometimes forget if you’ve taken the correct amount, or which ones you have yet to take for the day—it’s okay, he understands, he tells you tenderly when he raises his concerns to you. It can be overwhelming, especially on the days where you’re feeling extra sick, where even the most basic of tasks feels impossibly monumental; he knows, sweetheart, he knows—and so, he resolves to do everything in his power to aid you. 

If there’s anything, anything at all that he can do to make your health just a teensy bit easier, he wants to do it.

The pill box he brings home one night is a pretty pastel pink, plastic embedded with silver sparkles that glitter brilliantly as he pulls it from his work satchel, tiny twinkles catching on fragments of light, streaming from the kitchen pot lights. 

“To help keep you organized,” he says softly, placing the container down on the island’s marble countertop, gently, as if he’s afraid it may shatter otherwise. 

“It’s super cute,” you say, gaze swapping between him and the box, a small smile on your lips. “Thank you, Daddy.” Dainty fingers skim along the days of the week, each one etched into the plastic in a bright fuchsia. “This was really thoughtful of you.”

“You like it?” he asks, hesitant hope tingeing the edges of his voice.

“I do.” 

“Good,” he roots around in his bag again, producing a hefty stack of glittery packets from the depths, each wrapped individually in thin shimmering plastic. “Because I saw these, and I just couldn’t resist—they reminded me of you too much.”

Splayed out across the countertop sits pages and pages of cute kittens, hearts, and stars, twinkling delicately up at you.

Blinking twice, your head tilts. “Stickers?”

“Mm,” Zayne hums, nodding. His fingers traverse the sheets, one by one, pensively. “I thought we could decorate the pill organizer together.” 

And, oh, the way your eyes absolutely shine, brilliant and beautiful as they search his face, makes all of the trepidation he had accumulated in his chest on his drive home so worth it. 

It melts away in your warm blaze, mollifies into something doughy and pleasant, something that fills his ribcage and stuffs his heart and he feels satisfied, he feels right, he feels whole.

“Really?” 

“Yes.”

“Now?”

A light chuckle falls from his lips, gaze gone syrupy as he traces along the curve of your cheek, eyes following his finger’s trajectory for a moment before they find your stare again. 

“Yes.” 

Your smile grows impossibly wider, impeccably brighter, a sweet little squeal of excitement sticking in your throat, and he can’t help but laugh again, holding out an arm in invitation as his other hand pats his thigh. 

Scampering over to him, he pulls you into his lap, one strong arm curled protectively around your waist as he holds you tightly to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“Alright, princess,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose along your jaw, then planting a smattering of kisses behind your ear. “Which first? The hearts, the stars, or the kitties?”

Ninety minutes and two paper cuts later, your pretty pink pill box is finally finished, embellished with meticulously arranged stickers, each one placed just right—spread out perfectly from one another and organized in a way that makes it feel flawlessly balanced, each sticker methodically and systematically assorted with careful attention (a dire requirement, apparently, so you don’t end up with too many of one kind too close together!, you had told him). They glimmer in the low light of the kitchen as you tilt the box in your palms, one way, then the other, admiring yours and Daddy’s handiwork.

“It’s perfect,” you sigh, resting your cheek against Zayne’s. “We did a wonderful job.”

“It is, and we did,” he agrees, chest puffing a little against your back as his spine straightens, raising himself back to his proper height and pressing his lips to your temple, brushing along the throbbing veins in a gentle caress. His voice vibrates against your skin as he speaks, little tingles permeating your blood. “Now it’s time to let Daddy allocate and distribute your medication for the week.” 

A large hand taps the side of your thigh twice, a silent demand to get moving. 

“Come,” Zayne instructs as you both stand, taking one of your hands in his. “Help supervise and make sure Daddy puts everything in its proper spot.” 

He hopes this will help, even if it’s only a little. He hopes you’ll think of him, every morning when you’re popping open the corresponding little compartment, and he hopes it’ll make you smile, even if it’s nothing more than a slight quirk up of your lips.

If he can ease your pain, no matter how incremental the amount, then he’s doing his job. A start is a start, no matter how small. 

[bangtanintotheroom]

Spin You Like a Hit Record (M)

She seh she want come round a mi yard

Mi seh gyal turn round mek mi fuck you hard

Mek mi spin you like a hit record

Mi spin you like a hit record

• Pairing: Clubgoer!Bangchan x Clubgoer!(F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Smut, One Night Stand (?), Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 12.1k

• Summary: No one who’s ever stepped into this club can match your moves. No one dared to challenge you until a man with cheesy pick up lines and bulging muscles did. There’s no way this guy could impress you, right?

• Warnings/themes: swearing, dirty dancing, grinding, clubbing, Chan being a sexy dork, flirting, drinking, Y/N getting a bit angry, Felix being a cockblock and a chaotic roommate 💀, making out, all the teasing, dirty talk, breast play, praise, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), face-sitting, 69, hitting it from the back, a teensy tiny hint of dom!Chan, protected sex, mentions of drooling, mentions of exhibitionism, the morning after

• Playlist: 🎧

• Song Inspo: Come Roun - Mavado (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: IT’S FINALLY HEEEEEERE 🗣️ I did not think it’d take this long, that Chan brainrot is no joke lol A big fuck thank you to @minisugakoobies @minttangerines and @sugalaritae for pushing Mr. Bang Christopher Chan onto me in our group chat. It’s my first time writing a non-BTS fic since I started this blog, but I hope you guys will enjoy this regardless! 💕 and kisses for my sexy stack of pancakes Griddle who beta’d this for me on short notice!

• Taglist: @jimilter​ @joontied​ @minisugakoobies​ @minttangerines​ @sugalaritae​ @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp​ @amaranth-writing​ @dvalitaes​

This was your favorite environment.

The one place where you could let loose and not give a flying fuck about what anyone else in the room would think. Then again, the usual mindset of every other person in this area was either one of the two categories; how can I dance like her or how can I dance with her. It brought you confidence that could remain for the rest of the night.

The club was a decent-sized place that was always so packed that it had the potential to become a fire hazard. Monday, Thursday, Saturday; it didn’t matter what day it was, people were there ready to dance and drink their hearts out.

The music was what really brought everyone in. A mix of R&B and hip hop, both old and new, inspiring club-goers to gyrate and belt out the lyrics into the neon air. But there was a specific genre that piqued your interest from the moment you first stepped into this establishment. Hearing the bouncy rhythm and background instruments originating from various Caribbean islands took over your soul (you couldn’t think of a less dramatic way to explain it). If you were feeling less-than-stellar when you entered the building, the music was quick to fix that. Knowing that over time, you would become one with the beats, gyrating to your heart’s content.

Nothing could kill your vibe.

Well, except for when strangers tried to creep into your personal bubble.

Now, you didn’t mind someone coming up to dance with you in the beginning. It took two to tango and it could be fun having another person to enjoy the music with. But it became clear after some time that not many of them could match your moves.

They were too slow.

They were off-beat.

They were too erratic in their moves.

Your patience dwindled with these people, which led to you turning them down the second you sensed trouble. Some backed off with little issue, finding another club dweller to put their moves on instead. Some didn’t like to take no for an answer and led to passive-aggressive jabs at your dancing before storming away.

Whatever.

Not your problem.

You had been here for over an hour now. About six people had approached you, varying energies, but with the same disappointing results. The last one was particularly grating, constantly trying to guide you to their awful rhythm. They must have missed your ass about three times before you gave them the typical look of disappointment. But they insisted on trying over and over until you had to take their hands off you and tell them to leave you alone. The look in their eyes screamed that they wanted to call you some name, but they chose wisely to walk away instead.

Good, you didn’t feel like cussing someone out tonight.

Now that you were free from lackluster dancers, your throat was getting parched. It was time to re-hydrate, especially before the fire songs came on.

You made a beeline over to the crowded bar, nabbing an empty spot as soon as it opened. You rested your arms on the sticky countertop, tapping your pointed nails as you waited for one of the bartenders to acknowledge you. While you were watching a particularly flamboyant and agile bartender toss and flip his shaker, you heard a voice call from your side.

“Hey, how you doin’?”

Oh jeez.

Your immediate reaction was to give whoever spoke a fake and dismissive smile, but something about the way they sounded intrigued you. Was that an accent? It was hard to tell with the volume of the music.

Taking a chance, you turned your head to the right.

Ooh. Okay then. Hottie in your vicinity.

Decent height. Short black hair. Very handsome with a unique nose and full lips.

A very real smile automatically took over your glossy lips.

“Hey. Couldn’t be any better.”

The good-looking stranger shot you a megawatt grin, complete with dimples and everything.

“That’s good. You looked like you were having fun out there.”

Your torso turned towards him a little more.

“You were watching me?”

“Kind of hard not to.”

This type of exchange had become familiar to you lately. Someone walked up and tried to hit on you by complimenting your dancing skills. Depending on the person, it had a 50/50 chance of working. But hearing this guy do it in his (what you quickly identified as) Aussie accent upped the probability.

Would he get any farther than this, though?

“Oh?”

“Yup. Made me think you might live here with the way you were moving to those songs.”

A giggle escaped you, to your surprise.

“What can I say? I’m one with the music.”

The man next to you repeated your laugh, eyes squinting in delight.

“Oh, I believe it. Oops, where’s my manners?”

He held a hand out towards you, causing your eyes to travel up his muscular arm in intrigue. Whoa. Look at those biceps. Bless this man for wearing a sleeveless shirt tonight.

“I’m Chan.”

Right. Pay attention, Y/N. Take his hand and speak!

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Chan.”

The mystery hottie named Chan gave you a handshake with enough pressure to wonder if he was holding back. With the muscle he was packing, surely he was hiding his strength.

“Likewise! You mind if I buy you a drink?”

You shrugged, lips quirked upwards.

“If you’re offering, sure.”

Chan grinned, taking your drink order before continuing to have a mild conversation with you. It seemed like it was going to take a while before the two of you were acknowledged. You didn’t mind, finding him to be pleasant to speak to. From his appearance alone, you assumed that he would be one of those cocky muscleheads who did the bare minimum when it came to chatting up women.

Oh, did he prove you wrong.

He was actually rather sweet in the way he spoke to you, asking if your night was going well so far. The man was particularly tickled in your retelling of some of the disastrous events from the dancefloor, letting out giggles that made him even more endearing in your eyes. You almost didn’t want the drinks to come; that’s how much you were enjoying his presence.

But after the first and even second drink, you were still talking to Chan, the both of you sitting on stools now.

This was odd. Your main goal was usually to come and dance up a storm at this club, not chat with a complete stranger. It was like Chan was a magnet. Pulling you in and keeping you by his side unless some opposing force came in and tugged you away.

You spoke too soon, it seemed. For the DJ made a familiar announcement that had your ears perking up.

“Alright y’all, I’m lovin’ this crowd tonight, the energy is beautiful up in here! But now I wanna turn it up a notch. In a few minutes, you’ll see what I mean!”

Damn. Your favorite part of the night was coming up.

How could you cut this interaction short, though? You weren’t quite ready to stop talking to Chan…

But…

You let out a sigh when his head was turned, not wanting him to think you were tired of his presence. Far from it.

“Hey Chan?”

He looked back at you, raising a dark brow.

“What’s up?”

“I hate to break up our little chat, but I’d like to get back to the floor.”

Chan seemed to be averse to your departure, full lips pouting in disappointment. Cute.

“That’s a shame, I was enjoying your company.”

You gave an apologetic smile, not really wanting to split yet either.

“The feeling’s mutual, trust me. But the DJ’s about to play some fire music and I don’t really want to miss it.”

He now raised his other brow in intrigue.

“Better than what’s already been playing?”

“Mhm! I mean, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I like it.”

Just as Chan was about to speak again, you heard a familiar tune float out of the speakers, your head whipping towards the dancefloor. A chorus of cheers and hollers erupted from the crowd, a few people running from their seats to join the wave of grinding bodies. Your fingers twitched around your glass.

You were dying to be out there.

And then you looked back at your companion.

But something was telling you leaving this man would be a mistake.

If he was really interested, maybe he wouldn’t mind waiting for you to finish your dance. And if he was the impatient kind, then tough shit.

“Chan—”

“Is this what you were waiting for?”

The interruption made you blink, nodding as you watched an inquisitive expression take over his handsome face. After a moment, he smirked.

“Dancehall, huh? Great taste.”

He appreciated this kind of music too? What else were you going to add onto the one-sided list of pros and cons?

“Thanks. I didn’t picture you as the type to know about this.”

Chan’s dark eyes widened, looking taken aback.

“Of course I do! I listen to almost anything. But this stuff right here, this is no joke. I don’t blame you for wanting to go.”

You couldn’t hold back a grin, no matter how hard you tried. Why couldn’t there be more people like him? You definitely had to catch up after you were finished.

Just as you were about to express your gratitude, Chan cocked his head and spoke, “Actually…”

The expectant look he gave was outright charming.

“Do you mind if I join?”

Uh oh.

Here we go. Damn, and it was all going so well too.

Not that you didn’t want to get the chance to grind up on this attractive man, but if he messed up out there, it just might change your overwhelmingly positive opinion on him.

You’d have to turn him down. It sucked, but it was for his own good.

Alright, just remember how this went the last time someone dared to ask you to dance.

Lowering your lids, you rested an elbow on the counter, clasping your hands together while your mouth flattened into a humorless line.

“You can’t keep up with me.”

This man wasn’t fazed by your dismissal. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the challenge, reflecting your position before a tongue came out to run over his straight teeth.

“Don’t count me out yet, baby.”

Your cold front cracked a mite at the nickname and the way Chan seemed so confident in himself. Was it real? Or was he just bullshitting until he got onto the floor with you and made a fool of himself?

The drinks you had must have been extra strong tonight as you found your resolve wavering faster than usual.

Well, only one way to answer your questions.

“Fine.”

Straightening up, you brushed some loose hairs out of your face before lifting your chin up a bit. You held a hand out towards your challenger.

“Let’s see if you can back up that mouth.”

You would think Chan had won the lottery with the dazzling grin he gave. He wasted no time in taking your palm in his, warm and heavy and leaving you wondering what it could be capable of. There was time for that later, if he played his cards right.

Now you were leading him onto the dancefloor, bobbing and weaving through the gyrating club-goers. You glanced back to see if there was any hesitation on his face as you pulled him into the middle.

Nothing.

If anything, he seemed even more excited.

Interesting.

Once you found a spot large enough for the two of you, you turned to face him, raising a brow.

“Last chance.”

Chan chuckled, shaking his head at your warning.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Lips quirking, you took a head start, quickly identifying what point of the song was playing right now. Your body began responding to the beats, hips popping side to side as you kept your eyes locked with his own. He was quick to follow you in succession, starting off with simple two-steps, albeit with a little more flourish than the other dancers.

You noticed how easily Chan seemed to catch the tempo on his own. His eyes never straying from yours to watch your movements in hopes to imitate them.

So far, so good.

But this was only the beginning.

Deciding to go up a level, you stepped closer to him. Leaving only a few inches between your bodies, you allowed your hips to come so close to brushing against his. Watching his face to see if he would flinch or back down, your curiosity was intrigued when he did neither.

In fact, Chan closed the gap before placing those strong hands of his on your waist. The touch made a jolt go up your spine, intensified by the smirk he shot down at you next.

“This alright?”

Either it was the music or the distraction from his warm palms that almost had you missing what he said.

“Yeah.”

From then on, you both remained silent, letting your bodies do the talking.

Your dance partner matched your moves with little second-guessing, even taking the lead at times. After a certain point, Chan took one of your hands to spin you around a few times, a laugh escaping your lips at the gesture. The sound stopped when you felt him pull your back flush against his front, gut twisting at the heat and firmness of his body. You almost missed your next step, but you were quick to collect yourself.

This gesture was a lot more intimate than before, the atmosphere taking a slight turn into something a bit sultry. It didn’t help that the man behind you took to resting his head next to yours, lowering the percentage of your body that wasn’t pressed against his. You could feel his breath occasionally washing over your cheek.

“Tired of me yet?”

Is he for real?

“Not at all. I’m liking what I’m seeing so far.”

Chan chuckled, lips vibrating against your ear. “Good.”

The two of you continued your dancing, the next couple of songs passing by swiftly. You were happy to see that he wasn’t full of shit when it came to his skills. You even challenged him by throwing a sudden move in at random moments, wanting to catch him off-guard. But he was quick on the draw, following any dips or grinds with ease.

The chance that you would spend more time with Chan later was growing by the second.

But then the DJ started transitioning into a tune that you knew all too well. You couldn’t help but wonder whether your companion could handle this kind of song or if it’d be a little too far out of his league.

“Oh shit! Haven’t heard this one in a while.”

What?

Chan couldn’t see your brows raising until you turned your head, surprised by the eager expression on his handsome face.

“This song?”

“Yup.” He cocked his head at the disbelief in your eyes. “What?”

“Sure you can handle this?”

Just like before, there was no caution to your question, his lips twisting into a secure smirk.

“Wait and see.”

You hoped he didn’t feel the tremble that ran through your body just now. Something about the sheer confidence of this man got to you with little effort.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you faced forward once again, hips starting to roll to the familiar rhythm. You were slower and more deliberate in your movements this time, trying to take the lead. Chan seemed to have other plans, though, tightening his hold on you before pulling you back just as he was grinding forward.

Whoa.

There wasn’t an ounce of modesty in that move just now. Alright, don’t back down, Y/N.

You raised your arms in the air, starting to lower your body down. Chan followed suit until the two of you were nearly squatting, giving you a little more leverage to work with. You weren’t shy in winding your hips back, the fabrics of your pants providing friction every time the two of you made contact. A part of you was hoping he’d slip up a bit, just to know you were having an effect on him. It wouldn’t influence your currently high opinion of him at all.

But if he was getting worked up, it wasn’t showing in the way he closed whatever gap was between and grinded from the bottom of your ass all the way to the top.

Oh no.

Godammit, you could feel whatever he was hiding in those pants of his rubbing against every inch of your bottom. And now your stimulated brain was running with scenarios of just what could be in his pants.

You swallowed hard.

Were you actually getting turned on from dancing alone? This was a first.

Okay, focus.

Push back, Y/N, push back.

It didn’t do much, of course. Especially since he practically jerked his hips forward all of a sudden. If it wasn’t for his hands, you would’ve stumbled in shock.

Thank God he couldn’t see the flustered expression on your face right now.

“Mind if I try something, baby?”

Oh? Something else up his sleeve…well, lack of sleeve.

You shook your head, only to have Chan maneuver your body so you were bent over at the waist, much to your surprise.

What he did next almost had you keeling over in a stupor.

The man behind you took a firm hold of your hips before grinding against you with everything he had in his well-muscled body.

Oh. Shit. Fucking shit.

You know, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed Chan wouldn’t be up to par. Because if it wasn’t for your clothes, this man would be straight-up fucking you on the dancefloor right now.

No no no. This could not continue, not unless he wanted you to pounce on him in the middle of this crowd.

You had to take the reins and let him know that you weren’t backing down.

Straightening your body up, you took his hands and pulled them away before spinning around to face him.

Okay, this was your last resort. Surely he wouldn’t be able to handle this move.

Tickled at the confused expression on Chan’s handsome face, you went and hooked your leg around his waist, giving back just as much force as he did when he rolled from behind. Judging by the way he bit his lip, you must have caught him off-guard.

Alas, your victory lap was cut short when those same lips twisted into a wicked smirk. You realized how screwed you were when he took a firm hold of your waist and repeated the motion from earlier. This was a huge mistake!

There was no cushioning to protect you from the sensation of his clothed crotch grinding against yours.

Goddamn. You were wrong yet again.

Feeling Chan rub against you over and over again started a familiar heat between your legs that increased with each grind. You were quickly losing control over your body, having to grab onto his firm shoulders to steady yourself. Your eyes remained steady on his own, though, even if you wanted to close them while pleasure slowly crept up your spine.

You were looking for some sign on your dance partner’s face that he was being affected as well. Something. But there wasn’t much to work with. His smile was no longer present, but the rest of his expression remained impassive. Maybe he just had a really good poker face?

You managed to hold back on making any obscene sounds until a roll at a certain angle brushed right where your clit was. Oh fuck. Did you just moan out loud? At least the music covered it up…hopefully.

Just when you felt like you were about to pin this man and ride him like a prize horse, the song ended, music returning back into its usual genre. The bubble of lust around you and Chan burst with the shift. But the air still felt heavy. Especially with the way the two of you would just not stop staring at each other.

There was no way this would be the end of your interaction with the handsome stranger tonight.

Absolutely not.

You were pleased to see that you weren’t the only one who had broken a sweat, the edge of Chan’s hairline shining and dotted with light perspiration.

“How was that?”

What? That’s all he had to say? After the way he spun, writhed and bent you over, that’s what came out of his mouth?!

Alright. He wanted an answer? You would give him one.

With your eyes narrowing for a moment, you made a grab for his hand before beginning to drag him through the dancing bodies. You narrowly avoided having your foot stepped on until the two of you hit an open area. Spotting the hallway leading to the bathrooms, you kept pulling on Chan until you were deep enough to not be interrupted.

You swiftly turned around to have your back facing the wall. Chan’s mouth opened in what was sure to be a question until you grabbed his shoulders and tugged him down to attach your lips to his.

There was his damn answer.

He seemed to like it as you felt a groan rumble against you before those strong hands of his made a grab for your hips once more. You felt him tug until they were pressed to his.

Oh. Now you could tell that the grinding had some kind of effect on him.

Chan didn’t give you reprieve, snaking his tongue out to pry your mouth open. He was on a mission as he landed on your own appendage, tangling with controlled movements that had you feeling weaker than before. Between that and the nips to your lower lip he’d give occasionally, you would forget just where you guys were.

In a nightclub across the hall from restrooms with semi-questionable hygiene. Probably had a few drunks tossing their cookies in there too.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that this wasn’t an ideal spot. You wanted to get a taste of whether Chan’s moves were only designated to the dancefloor or not.

When he broke off to begin planting kisses on your neck, you mustered up the strength to air your intentions.

“I wanna get out of here.”

Another kiss. “With me?”

“No, by myself— Ah—”

The nibble underneath your jaw made your words catch, much to Chan’s humor, judging by his tone as he teased, “Aw, I thought we were having such a good time together, baby.”

Clicking your tongue, you reached up to give an earlobe a light tug. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pissing me off.”

An unexpected giggle came out before he whispered in your ear, “But you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

This man.

“You’re gonna see me real mad if we don’t leave this damn club.”

Another laugh came from Chan as pulled his head back to look at you.

“Fine, fine. Where are we going?”

“Your place, my place, a hotel, I don’t fucking care.”

You probably sounded whiny, but at least he seemed to share the sentiment as he stepped back.

“Well, lucky for you, my place is a few blocks away. C’mon.”

He held a hand out that you immediately took, allowing Chan to escort you through the club and to the front doors, ready to continue the night away from wandering eyes.

Chan wasn’t joking when he said he only lived a few blocks down, but it felt like longer to you, thanks to how fucking horny you were.

It was so bad that you almost tugged him down an alleyway whenever the two of you had to wait at an intersection to cross. But oddly, having his thumb occasionally rub the back of your hand would ground you a bit. Well, that and the charming smile he’d shoot down.

It was almost like he could tell how restless you were.

Finally, he led you into an apartment building and straight to the elevator, the ride going up a few floors before you both got off.

Chan pulled a set of keys out of his pocket as the two of you headed down the hall to a door with a welcome mat that had a picture of a cat on it. The sight was unexpected and brought a tiny giggle out of you.

“It’s not mine, my roommate picked it out.”

“Chan, you don’t have to lie. I think it’s cute!”

He paused in unlocking the door to shoot a pout.

“I’m not!”

“Uh huh.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to change your mind, he rolled his eyes and got the door open, motioning you to step in first before locking it behind him. As soon as the two of you took your shoes off, he reached for your hand once again and began walking.

Guess you weren’t going to get a good look at his apartment right now.

Chan guided you down a hallway before stopping in front of one of the doors, presumably his bedroom. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it to push the door open, only for the smile on his face to drop.

You couldn’t see what the problem was until you peeked around his body, spotting a desk setup with a sizable computer monitor against one of the walls. And in the chair in front of it was a person, clearly immersed in the game they were playing.

“Get out, Felix.”

Chan’s concealed irritation caught the attention of the man named Felix, swiveling his chair around to shoot a bothered look. His appearance was the polar opposite of his roommate’s, slender with softer facial features and blond hair that draped over the back of his neck. In your eyes, he was, dare you say, quite a pretty man.

“But I’m almost done with this level, bro!”

Oh wow. Didn’t expect that voice to come out of that face.

Your lover for the night growled under his breath before addressing him once again with a little more attitude.

“Mate, get out of here! You’ve been in that chair since I left hours ago, go do something productive, for Chrissakes!”

Felix’s eyes narrowed at Chan, tsking before turning back around, clicking the mouse and keyboard harder than necessary. In a minute, the bright colors on the screen disappeared, leaving nothing but a basic desktop wallpaper illuminating the room. The leaner man pushed the chair back and stood up before heading towards the two of you.

“Asshole. This is me being productive.”

Clearly Chan wasn’t having it, dark eyes still boring a hole in the other as he gently moved both of your bodies aside so Felix could leave the room. But just before he hit the threshold, he stopped in his tracks, looking you up and down with thinly-veiled curiosity.

“Aren’t you at least going to introduce me to your new friend?”

Chan seemed ready to tell him off, yet reined it in at the last second, his broad shoulders lifting and lowering as he sighed with exasperation. He held out a free hand to gesture between you and Felix.

“Felix, Y/N. Y/N, Felix.”

The both of you waved to each other, Felix’s pretty face stretching into a cheeky smile.

“Hey Y/N. Hopefully Chan doesn’t drool on you while he’s on top.”

This seemed to be the last straw for the muscled man, letting out some colorful words before letting go of your hand. He placed both of his on Felix’s shoulders, turning him towards the hallway in order to push him out with more force than necessary. This didn’t seem to bother the other man, laughing at both of your reactions.

Just as Chan was grabbing the door, Felix seemed to have one last thing to say.

“Oh, and the back of his neck is his weak spot!”

Your brows lifted in intrigue just as the door was slammed in the other’s face, watching as the lock was turned with a loud click. You heard Chan mumbling under his breath, only able to hear the words ‘dick’ and ‘cunt’ and something about the electric bill, lips twitching in amusement until he turned towards you with a sigh. A hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

“’M sorry about that. My roommate can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

You giggled, stepping close to take said hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.“No worries. Not the worst situation I’ve walked into.”

That adorable smile of his made a comeback, thanks to your reassurance.

“Good. Oh, and whatever he said was bullshit.”

Your head cocked to the side as you played with his fingers.

“What was?”

Chan huffed lightly at how you were playing games, placing his free hand on your hip to pull you flush against his firm body.

“How I drool.”

You looked off to the side, pretending to recollect what Felix had said before looking up at him once again.

“Oh yeah? Because I was more curious about the other thing he mentioned.”

You felt the hold on your hip move slowly towards your ass before cupping it.

“The neck thing?”

“Yes.”

Chan’s lips peeled back, flashing straight teeth. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

Your smile matched his to a T, taking your other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. It had been too long since his luscious lips were on yours.

The two of you picked up on where you had left off at the club, with less concern about who would see what was going on. It was just you and Chan in this lamp-lit room, tongues and teeth working .

Just when you were ready to take things up a notch, you felt his grip on both sides of your hips before he began guiding you to walk backwards. Your legs automatically moved in response, only stopping when he tightened his hold.

Chan broke the kiss, allowing you to realize that you were at the foot of his bed now. He didn’t give you time to think more on it, reaching for the hem of your top. With a quick glance at your face, he waited for your nod before starting to work the garment up and off. There was a bit of fumbling towards the end, thanks to the multiple straps, but he managed to divulge you of it.

The swear that left him at the sight of your bare breasts made your lips tilt and your ego stroked. You let him admire you for a little longer until the urge to see what was hiding under his shirt became too strong to delay.

Your hands reached for it, thankful that he lifted his arms up the second your fingers brushed the fabric. You removed it faster than your own top, eyes trained on every inch of skin that was revealed. Within no time, you were granted a full view of his exposed torso, jaw dropping at the sight.

“Oh shit…”

You had figured Chan was well-muscled, thanks to his exposed arms and the way he felt against your softer body, but this was insane.

A chiseled chest that rose and fell with heavy breaths. Rippling abs that tightened with each inhale. Just…straight-up muscle. How often did he go to the gym to be blessed with a body like this?

“Y/N.”

Chan’s amused voice cut into your foggy thoughts, making you blink in shock. Oops. Did you space out?

You heard a chuckle before a hand came up to carefully hold your chin, tipping your head back up, making sure your eyes were on his own and not his figure. Chan didn’t seem offended at all; if anything, the twinkle in his dark eyes expressed flattery.

“I don’t mind you staring, but I’d really like to get my hands on you now, babygirl.”

Oh. Well, you couldn’t say no to that at all.

You gave an eager nod, receiving one of his adorable giggles before his lips captured yours again. While you were occupied, you felt him begin to work on your pants, undoing them enough to be able to slide them down. The kiss broke once the waistband went over the curve of your ass, Chan crouching down to bring your bottoms down to your ankles.

Good thing you picked one of your best-looking (albeit somewhat uncomfortable) pairs of panties today; he was getting an eyeful at the moment.

“What the fuck, you’re so hot—”

If you weren’t careful, you were going to leave this place with a big head with the way he was throwing praise your way. Despite the way your cheeks were flaming, you played it cool, reaching down to tip Chan’s chin up now, directing his admiring gaze up to your face.

“You already got me in your room, no need to lay it on thick.”

Chan’s eyes creased in the corners as he grinned, another giggle escaping from his dimpled smile.

“Sorry. My mouth tends to beat my brain sometimes.”

How this man could go from confident to adorable in a split second was a mystery to you.

But you could try and solve it later; right now, you needed him back up here.

“It’s alright, baby—”

You motioned him to stand up, wrapping your arms around his taut waist before pressing your bare breasts against his torso.

“Never said I didn’t like compliments.”

Chan huffed in enjoyment, laying his hands on your hips.

“Good to know.”

A giggle escaped before he swooped down to cover your mouth with his own, making quick work of prying your lips apart with his tongue. You opened up with little resistance, but it widened when you felt a firm grip on your ass out of nowhere. The way Chan kneaded it had you melting into his touch, forgetting about any other part of your body that wasn’t squished against his right now.

Which was why you were surprised to find yourself falling backwards all of a sudden, body bouncing on top of his bed.

Chan chuckled at the bewilderment on your face before crawling on top of you, lust-filled eyes traveling over your sprawled figure.

“I almost didn’t approach you, y’know.”

The confession caught you off-guard, causing your brows to furrow.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

The man above you leaned in to begin pressing kisses over your jawline and neck, throwing in nips in between that made your breath hitch.

“I saw how you kept turning down all those poor bastards. Kept wondering if I should even bother taking a chance.”

A dig of Chan’s teeth into a hot spot right under your ear had you gasping, followed by a soft moan as he soothed the bite with his tongue.

“But you went ahead and did.”

A puff of air against your neck as he chuckled.

“Only after I had a drink.”

You matched his laugh, deciding to rest your idle hands on his back, savoring the expanse of muscle underneath.

“Nothing wrong with liquid courage. I’m glad you came over.”

Chan lifted his head after pressing his lips to your collarbone, eyes sparked with wonder.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You felt a light tremble run through him when your nails dragged over his skin.

“You definitely proved yourself tonight. That was the most fun I’ve had in that club in ages.”

Thanks to the lamp, you could see the tips of Chan’s ears flushing, his cheeks lifting in bashfulness. To go from devouring your neck to flustering at your words in such a short span of time…what duality.

“Glad to hear it. Besides—”

Your hips jolted when you felt his own press down, the unmistakable feel of his erection making itself known.

“The fun’s only beginning, no?”

Shy Chan has officially left the building. Especially with the groan he gave when you rolled up into him.

“Yes, it is.”

Leaning up to grab more kisses, you were only granted the indulgence for a short while before he broke away. Motioning you to lay back again, he was quick to replace his mouth on your skin, traveling down until he reached your breasts. Chan gave attention to the sensitive area, alternating between feathery licks and thorough sucks.

You were eager to let him know how well he was doing with back arches and moans, nails still tracing patterns on his warm skin. Although the patterns were broken whenever a tug or scrape of his teeth occurred.

“Chan—”

A grunt vibrated against your nipple before he pulled off to rasp, “I’m trying to be patient here, baby, but you’re making it hard for me.”

You huffed and looked down to see an impatient expression aimed up at you.

“How do you think I feel? I was so close to doing you in that club.”

Chan’s eyes lidded at your reveal, tongue running over his swollen lips.

“Well, I could’ve fucked you in the middle of that dance floor.”

A shiver ran through your body. Just the thought of him possibly doing such a crude act had your pussy throbbing harder than before.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. Anyone tried to stop me, I would’ve decked the cunt.”

Fuck, why did that sound so hot?

He didn’t allow you to think on it any longer as he continued to trail kisses down your body, skimming over your stomach until he reached the top of your panties. His hands were quick to come up and lay on both of your inner thighs, pushing them further apart to improve his view of what laid between them.

With the way he was staring, you would have thought he was trying to see through the damn underwear itself.

Just as you were about to interject with something witty, Chan chose to make a move and latch his lips where your clit was, ripping a gasp out of you.

“Ah!”

The sudden shock melted into tingles of pleasure as he began with light sucks, sometimes pausing to lap his tongue over the damp fabric instead.

“Fuck, Chan…”

“Like that, baby?”

You huffed, “No, it’s not enough.”

An inquisitive hum sounded from below, Chan’s mouth pausing its actions (much to your dismay).

“Is that so?”

This guy.

“You know so. Just take them off.”

All you received was a giggle and a shake of the head. “Not yet.”

You groaned his name in annoyance, making him laugh harder, teeth on full display.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

To think you would get so flustered by him. It even made you giggle. “Thank you, but—”

You reached down and tapped his forehead.

“I’m starting to think you’re forcing yourself to do this.”

Chan gave you a look of mock offense.

“Of course not!”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

He rolled his eyes, hooking his finger under the elastic before letting it snap. “I’m serious, Y/N. This is me holding back right now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah—”

Chan brushed his lips against your clothed center and husked, “I’d do anything to taste this pussy of yours.”

A shiver traveled through you at his words.

“Anything?”

He kissed you again. “Mhm.”

A certain thought bloomed in your mind from the conversation. You might be pushing it by saying it out loud, but fuck it.

“Would you even let me sit on your face?”

A groan vibrated against your core. “Fuck yes, I would.”

A smirk came over your swollen lips. Hearing the near desperate way he spoke had you going further, toying with the idea before deciding to take a chance. You were feeling very lucky tonight, as it is.

“Well then?”

Chan looked up at you in surprise. He stared until he realized you were serious, mirroring your grin.

“If you insist.”

He sat up and motioned you to move aside so he could sit back and prepare for what was to come. Waiting until Chan got comfortable, you kept your eyes locked on his as you slowly removed your sodden underwear. You almost giggled at how he broke the staring contest, fixated on the now exposed area. Tossing the garment off to who knows where, you poked one of his pecs to catch his attention, letting the laugh escape at the sheepish expression he donned.

He was quick to apologize before laying flat on his back, head just below the pillows. He then pointed to his face, a cheeky grin pasted on now.

“Take a seat.”

You were quick to scoot up and follow his invitation until a thought came through at the last second. Just as you were about to straddle Chan’s head, you turned your body before climbing on, facing towards his lower body instead.

“Oy, what are you doing?”

You hummed before giving his firm stomach a pat. “Enjoying the view.”

A laugh rang from behind as you felt his warm hands cup the top of your ass.

“Cheeky.”

He didn’t give you a moment to reply as he pushed your hips down, ripping a sound out of you as you sat on his tongue now. With slow precision, Chan began lapping at your slick skin, electricity running up your spine before blooming into spreading heat. It didn’t take long before you began moaning at the contact, back arching in enjoyment.

Guess kissing wasn’t the only thing he was good at.

Chan continued to lick at you, dipping into each crevice with varying pressure. Just when you were about to whine when he was too light, he’d increase the strength, throwing you for a loop. There were a few times where you’d nearly lose your balance, tightening your core muscles to prevent yourself from falling over. But after a while, you couldn’t take it anymore, abdominals screaming for mercy.

You had to brace yourself somehow. Scrambling for somewhere to hold onto, your eyes landed on the rippled expanse below you.

Ah. Perfect.

Just as you felt a harsh suck to your folds, your palms landed on Chan’s abs.

Damn.

Did this guy have rocks under his skin or what?

Just as your fingers began exploring every ridge on his waist, you felt something clamp around your throbbing clit before giving a pull.

“Fuck!”

If it wasn’t for his strong hands, you would have bucked down into his face. The temptation grew the more he continued.

Okay, you couldn’t just sit still (well, as still as you could be with his mouth working you over). You needed to suck his dick. Now.

Collecting yourself as much as possible, you put some more weight on your lower body so you could reach for Chan’s pants. Your fingers fumbled a bit, but you managed to get the button and his fly undone. Parting the fabric, you got a better view of the thick outline pressing against his black underwear, sliding your hand under the elastic band to get a feel of it. The second your fingertips went underneath, you felt the body under you give a jolt. Only when your hand wrapped around his cock did he relax.

Damn. Whatever you were holding, you had to see it for yourself.

You pulled Chan’s length out of his underwear, jaw dropping at its appearance.

Nice and thick, perfect for stretching your needy walls out when the time came. But for now…

You lowered your torso to rest on Chan’s, mouth immediately getting to work once his dick was in proximity. The second your tongue touched the velvety skin, vibrations hummed against your pussy. They only increased in frequency the more you incorporated the muscle. Eventually, you chose to take him fully in your mouth, pulling back in enough time to avoid choking as his hips jerked.

Wrapping your fist around the base, your head began bobbing in your own rhythm, hearing and feeling the muffled grunts and groans from behind. You missed Chan’s lips on your cunt when he pulled away at one point, but it was remedied by the praise he gave.

“That’s it, baby…oh shit—”

You smiled around his dick, deciding to throw in a few hums of your own, savoring the way he dug his fingers into the curve of your ass.

“So glad you came up with this—“

A jiggle of one of your cheeks pulled a muffled moan out of you.

“I get to have a great view and feel that mouth.”

So he was an ass man, huh?

Your observation was solidified when you gave it a little shake that rewarded you with a curse. In no time, Chan returned to giving your most intimate area attention again, sending waves of bliss coursing up your spine again.

Between you and him, the room filled up with lewd sounds and noises. Slowly a knot began to form in your guy, encouraging you to up your movements. You provided more suction, receiving a buck of the hips that caught you off-guard. A light gag emitted as his tip hit the top of your throat.

Chan was quick to pull off, speaking in a huskier voice than before, “Shit, sorry. You alright?”

You let him out of your mouth, his wet cock bouncing back down onto his lap.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You didn’t even give him a chance to continue, leaning down to lick up the bead of precum on his flushed head. The moan he gave was absolutely worth it.

“What the fuck— Your mouth is too good.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss below his belly button.

“So I’ve heard.”

Another swear echoed from behind before you felt his hands pushing at your hips. Picking up what he was asking for, you swiftly climbed off, only to feel those same hands tugging at you again. Before you knew it, you ended up on your back with Chan perched over you, looking more fiery thanks to the dual act.

The blown-out pupils in his dark brown irises, combined with his sweat-covered brow, glistening mouth and chin made him look like a feral man, ready to devour every inch of you.

Good. So you were on equal grounds; you were ready to satiate his appetite too.

“You’re killin’ me, Y/N.”

A brow lifted. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Chan grunted before pressing his forehead onto yours, eyes zeroed in on your own.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it is—”

Your pitch grew when you felt fingers skimming over your damp center, biting your lip when you felt one of them circle your clit.

“Hm, sure feels like it. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any wetter…”

A good portion of that was contributed to Chan working you up with his mouth. Hell, you could feel yourself pushing out a drop right now because of his touch.

“You must be feeling good about it—!”

Yet again, he caught you off-guard by prodding between your lower lips, teasing your twitching hole with his index finger.

“Damn right I am.”

He wouldn’t let you come up with another retort, applying pressure until the tip began sinking in, your breath hitching. The sudden intrusion gave way to a pleasant stretch as he pushed even further, up until you felt his knuckle brushing outside.

“Chan—”

Your lover merely hummed, starting to pump slowly as he continued to stare down at you.

“You feel like you’re ready for me, baby.”

Your hips bucked when he sped up for a moment before slowing down.

“I am.”

Chan’s teeth flashed, the impishness contrasting the actions of his hand.

“Nah, nevermind. You’re not ready.” 

Frustration began building inside as he continued teasing you, a huff escaping your swollen lips.

“You’re such an ass.”

One of your favorite giggles came out while he pressed his index finger against your entrance.

“Am I?”

Despite the mild burn from the stretch as he added the digit, your hand came up to swat one of his solid pecs.

“Yes! Working me up like this and then laughing—”

This man just loved to torture you, didn’t he? For he decided to go searching and quickly found that rough spot inside that made your back arch.

“Fuck!”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, you don’t sound very mad right now.”

You were about to swear at him again, but he gave a few solid presses that made a lewd sound emit, making your face burn and your hips jerk.

“Godammit Chan—!”

Chan continued to play dumb, peering down at you with a look of mock concern.

“What’s wrong? My fingers not enough for you, babygirl?”

“N-No— I need more!”

Hums and tilts his head, still thrusting his fingers.

“You sure?”

That’s it.

“Chan, you son of a bitch, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

One of his trademark giggles escaped at your attitude.

“Alright, alright, I hear ya.”

Pulling his fingers out with a squelch, you sighed in relief when he went to grab a condom from his nightstand.

“Thank you, baby.”

Chan gave a chuckle as he prepared himself, quick to climb back on once he was fully sheathed. Just as you figured he would get straight to business, he surprised you by stealing a kiss from you. One kiss long enough to distract you until you felt him poking your folds. With that, you couldn’t wait any longer.

Pulling your lips away a bit, you husked against his own, “Come on.”

For once, your lover didn’t have a quip, choosing to give you what you so desired. Either that or he was hiding his own needs well, for Chan began guiding himself inside, pulling an audible moan out of you. Okay, maybe having his fingers beforehand was a good thing; the stretch he was giving you was something else.

“Shit, Chan—“

He seemed to be affected by the way your walls practically swallowed his dick, a knit between sweat-covered brows and his teeth bared as he ground out, “This pussy is so fuckin’ tight— Worth the wait.”

A grunt came out as you involuntarily clamped down at the words, forcing his hips to pause on his trek. But as soon as you loosened, Chan continued to push forward until he bottomed out, leaving you full and yearning for more.

Thankfully, you two seemed to be on the same wavelength now, for he didn’t hesitate on starting up a rhythm, slow but steady.

You were quickly affected by the friction, wrapping your legs around his hard and built waist to keep him as close to you as possible. Soft pants escalated into thorough moans, the sparks deep in your gut beginning to light a fire that spread to every end of your body.

“Mm, that’s it…”

Chan chuckled at your encouragement, running a tongue over his reddened lips as he gazed down at you.

“Just what you wanted, eh?”

Yes. This was just what you wanted.

To have him moving inside of you, rolling those hips just like he was doing on the dancefloor. Every inch of his cock stroked all of your sweet spots and his pelvis grinded against your pulsating clit, leaving you an absolute mess underneath his muscled body. It didn’t help when he began whispering all sorts of praise and filth into your ear.

Eventually, you found your body craving more and dug your nails into the tight muscles on his back.

“Chan—”

“Mm?”

It took a little longer than expected to respond, but you managed.

“Fuck me harder, please—”

Did you mean to sound that whiny? Not at all.

But it seemed to be worth it as Chan’s demeanor changed a bit, some of the humor leaving his expression. From the way you felt him twitch inside, your begging hit a nerve.

A nerve that had him nodding before starting to practically pound into you. You didn’t know what to classify the sound that left your mouth as, but it was loud and it was sharp.

This man’s hips were too powerful. Every thrust inched you further up the bed, to the point where you had to plant your hands on the headboard for support. The last thing you wanted was a concussion.

Well, this was what you asked for and he was gladly giving it to you.

Chan himself was pleased with the change of pace, judging by the more frequent moans and groans leaving him.

“Goddamn, Y/N—”

Fuck, he sounded so good like this. Like a man unleashing secret desires after hiding them for so long. Maybe you should’ve encouraged him to go all out sooner.

His sense of rhythm was also strong in the bedroom, it seems. The way your skin clapped against his added to the pleasant melody that was both of your cries and words jumbling together in the musky room.

Among all of the carnal noises the both of you were releasing, you could have sworn you heard three thumps in succession. Almost like someone was banging on the wall.

Eh, probably your imagination.

Out of nowhere, Chan stilled his hips before beginning to slip out of you. An indignant cry left your swollen lips at the withdrawal, propping yourself up on your elbows to scowl up at your lover.

“What the fuck?!”

You weren’t surprised to see his mouth curl at your response. This guy and being amused by your anger was a combo that you were about to tire of.

Chan reached a hand out to give your hip a pat before scooting back a bit, husking out, “Turn that ass over, babygirl—”

Oh. That’s why.

His request made your brief irritation disappear in a second and you were swift in complying, forcing your body to react and reposition itself on hands and knees. You felt a palm rub over one of your ass cheeks before giving it a light grope, unable to hold back from doing a little wiggle in response. A groan sounded from behind, followed by the blunt head of Chan’s cock pressing against your entrance before sliding back in.

This position had you clutching the sheets, thanks to how his length stroked areas that he couldn’t reach before. Surely if he rolled his hips again, he’d render your limbs useless due to pleasure.

You didn’t have to wonder much longer as Chan continued his pace with little hesitation. The movement ripped a yelp out of you as you now found yourself supporting your weight on your torso, arms losing stability.

“Ch-Chan!”

You heard a laugh lingering with cockiness from behind before he said something else that tickled you.

“Okay, those pants weren’t doing your ass enough justice.”

The compliment made your lips twitch, the boost to your confidence making you give a solid push back.

“Oh yeah?”

Chan was quick to give a solid thrust, nearly knocking you off your knees.

“Fuck yeah.”

You were ready to give another reply until he continued with the solid thrusts; clearly, there was no more room for conversation. The two of you kept at it, the claps of your skin mixing with every little filth and praise spilling out of you and Chan’s mouths. You enjoyed each moment of it until you started feeling a coil building deep in your stomach, forcing you to get louder in your cries.

It must have tipped Chan off as you felt him lean over your drenched back to whisper in your ear, “You gonna come for me, babygirl?”

“Yes, yes!”

A curse left him before you felt him pull out yet again, but he didn’t give you a chance to cuss him out as he flipped you onto your back and guided his cock back in with little patience. He proceeded with pounding the shit out of you again, the flush in his cheeks doing little to tone down the wolfishness of his smirk.

“Good, wanna feel this sweet cunt squeezing me—“

Ugh. The absolute nerve of this man to give you that blinding grin while he was all up in your guts. And then to speak like that?

You weren’t given much more time to be irate before that pang in your gut increased, thanks to Chan returning to rolling his hips like before. Your poor clit received every ounce of stimulation, pushing you closer and closer to that edge. Needing to hold onto something for stability, you were about to grab for his shoulders before remembering Felix’s little hint from earlier.

Shooting your lover a smirk, you savored the curious look on his face before it was wiped off, thanks to the nails that dug into the back of his neck. You could feel whatever parts of him pressed against you stiffen for a moment, paired with the hitching of his breath.

“So it is true.”

Chan didn’t seem to be as amused as you were, brows furrowing at your teasing. He wouldn’t let you scratch his neck again, reaching behind for your wrists before pinning them down to the bed. The move made you gasp, being left at his mercy now.

“It is. Now be good and let me keep fucking you.”

You didn’t fight against his command one bit. As a reward, the tension in your belly expanded until you couldn’t take it anymore. After a particularly thorough hip roll, the rubber band snapped, forcing a sharp cry to escape your agape mouth filling the room.

Your legs shook next to his still-moving hips, pussy squeezing him on and off with no signs of stopping. After a moment, Chan paused, allowing you to ride out the harsh waves with ease. You could barely notice him watching you fall apart, only focusing when he said something that caught your attention.

“Shit, ‘m gonna come, baby—“

Wanting to make that a reality, you tugged one of your wrists free with some force before landing a hand on the back of his sweat-soaked neck again. He didn’t have a chance to scold you, mouth letting out an unmistakably shaky groan at the sensation of your nails running over the skin. Just a few more passes granted you with the lovely sound and sight of Chan reaching his limit as well.

You felt his cock pulsating between your still contracting walls as he spilled into the condom, hips pressed firmly against yours. Watching your lover’s face knit in sheer gratification was worth all the teasing you endured over the last couple of hours.

Once he was through his orgasm, Chan relaxed his lower half on top of yours, taking care to keep the upper half hovering above. You showed your appreciation with a pat of his back. As nice as his ripped body felt against you, the crushing weight wouldn’t have been ideal at the moment.

“Damn…”

His weak exhale brought a feeble giggle out of you.

“You alright, baby?”

Chan huffed, bringing a hand up to brush a rolling bead of sweat off your brow.

“Should be asking you that, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, hoping your knees would quit shaking soon.

“Still kicking and breathing.”

“Hmm.”

Now that your heart-rate was beginning to return to normal, you were growing aware of just how intense the session had gotten. Every inch of your skin was covered in sweat and the muscles in the lower part of your body were about to start screaming for mercy. And between your legs where Chan was still deeply nestled…

“Chan.”

“Mm?”

You tipped your head back, peering at a familiar package sitting on one of the headboard shelves.

“Mind passing one of those wipes?”

When your eyes opened, two questions went through your mind.

Where were you and what time was it?

In the dimly-lit room, you could tell that it wasn’t the decor you were familiar with. You also didn’t see your alarm clock on your nightstand to inform you of the current time. But after a minute, the fog in your brain began to clear and everything started to come back to you.

The thick arm laying on your waist also helped.

Turning your head, your mouth curled at the sleeping figure next to you. Chan was still dead to the world, plush mouth parted as he snored softly. You had to hold back a giggle at the trail of drool running out. At least it didn’t happen while he was on top.

Fighting the urge to grab a wipe and clean him up, you focused on sneaking out from his hold without waking him up. You managed to lay his arm back down carefully, Chan not even budging a mite. You started looking for your clothes, specifically your pants first. The garment laid at the foot of the bed still and you picked them up, reaching in the back pocket for your phone.

You clicked on the home screen .

8:53 AM.

Whoops. You definitely didn’t mean to stay that long.

Time to go.

You glanced back at Chan. You didn’t want to go without saying goodbye, after the night he gave you, but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate the interruption to his sleep. Biting your lip, you mulled over it as you quietly redressed.

Once you got your top situated, you made your way to the door, hand resting on the knob as you peeked at him once again.

Should you really leave like this? He did make an impression on you, outside of the bedroom. You weren’t necessarily looking for a relationship with the guy, but you didn’t want this to be the last time you’d see him. Relying on the odds that you’d see him at the club again was risky, too.

Maybe you could find something to write on out there…

Giving Chan’s sleeping form a grateful smile, you carefully opened the door before stepping out into the hallway. Just as you shut it, you heard one opening further down. You looked up to see his roommate appearing, wrapped tight in a cozy blanket. It took him a few seconds to realize you were there, but he was quick to give you a sleepy wave.

“Morning.”

The yawn that followed his greeting made you chuckle, returning his wave.

“Good morning. Slept well?”

Felix shrugged, dark eyes bleary. “Well enough.” Said eyes looked you over before a brow raised. “Sneaking out?”

“Yeah, I think I overstayed my welcome.”

The blond hummed, slipping a hand out of his throw to fix his bedhead. “Understandable. Well, feel free to leave whenever you want, I’m going to go get a brownie to start my day off.”

Before you could make your exit, Felix regarded you for a second before tilting his head.

“Would you like one?”

You blinked, both in surprise and at the fact that this guy was eating a dessert for breakfast. Then again, free food.

“Oh? Um…sure?”

Felix chuckled, a grin forming.

“Don’t be shy, I can always make more. Come on.”

He gestured you to follow him, heading down the hall and towards the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a container of brownies on one of the counters. Your eyes bugged when Felix opened it, showing that it was filled to the brim. No wonder he said to not hold back.

You took two while he picked up three, grabbing some paper towels nearby to lay them on before standing by the island. Once you bit into the pastry, you realized that you were hungrier than you thought. That, and these brownies were fucking delicious.

You were quick to let Felix know, receiving an appreciative smile. Even though you had planned to head on home, you found yourself making small talk with him.

But then he threw out a statement that caught you off guard.

“You guys were pretty loud.”

A crumb almost lodged itself in your throat, cheeks flooding with heat.

“Ah…surprised you didn’t say anything.”

Felix lifted his slender shoulders, not really looking that bothered. “Well, I did bang on the wall a bit, but it didn’t do shit. Just put my headphones on and ended up falling asleep to a movie.”

Damn, were you and Chan that disruptive? Looks like that banging you heard wasn’t in your head, at all.

“Sorry, Felix.”

“Eh, no worries. Better that than him coming home alone and complaining to me how he couldn’t pick a girl up. Although, I do have to congratulate you—”

Felix grinned, eyes scrunching in mischief.

“Sounds like you found that spot on his neck.”

Good thing you swallowed your bite as you burst into laughter at his compliment.

“I should be thanking you for the hint! It definitely made him weak.”

“It always does! Did he drool on you?”

“Nope.”

The blond gave a thumbs up while biting into another brownie. As soon as he finished his bite, he regarded you with caution before leaning in. He motioned you to do the same, your curiosity increasing as you followed his gesture.

“You know—”

The way he whispered made it sound like he was about to tell you something scandalous.

“If he was shit in bed, you can tell me. I won’t say a word. It’s 2023 and I feel like girls need to stop faking it and just be blunt with these lazy cunts.”

You didn’t think you could laugh louder than before, but Felix proved you wrong. After it died down into giggles, you straightened up, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Thank you for the reassurance, but trust me, it was all real.”

Felix sat up and pouted. “Damn, was hoping I’d have something to hold against him.” He sighed, ”If you say so.”

“Sorry buddy, you’re not gonna get it from me today.”

He nodded, all seeming well as his pretty lips curled in humor. The break in conversation reminded you to check the time, exclaiming in surprise.

“Damn, I really should go.” You finished up your ‘breakfast’, brushing your hands clean. “Thanks again for the brownies, Felix.”

“No problem, Y/N. You want any for the road?”

Your eyes narrowed playfully.

“I feel like you’re trying to thicken me up.”

Felix smirked. “Well, someone has to play host while Chris is asleep. You ate those two pretty fast, so…”

There was no way he’d let you leave without one, was there? A sigh left you.

“Fine, if you’re offering.”

The pleased blond was quick to wrap up a few for you, leaving you waiting for a minute. Suddenly, a thought hit you. You didn’t have a way to keep in contact with Chan.

There was no way you could part ways with that wonderful man and be able to sleep peacefully.

“Hey Felix.”

“Hm?”

You grabbed a napkin and a nearby pen, jotting down the numbers from memory. Once Felix walked back over, you handed him the note.

“Mind giving this to Chan for me?”

He took it and looked it over, brows raising in intrigue before he nodded at you.

“Sure.”

You smiled and expressed your gratitude, taking the brownies before Felix led you out to the front door. With a wave and a ‘have a good day’, you headed down the hallway, a sway in your somewhat sore hips.

Who knew that last night would go the way it did? You just might have met your match. Someone who could keep up with your moves and handle you in the bedroom.

If Chan wanted to see more of what you could do, he better take your gift and use it wisely.

Chan couldn’t tell what time it was when he awoke, thanks to those new blinds he bought. All he knew was that there was someone else in his room. And judging by the familiar clacking of a keyboard, he knew exactly who it was.

Prying his bleary eyes open, he stretched, groaning quietly at the way his muscles protested at the action. He sat up in bed, automatically wiping off the semi-dried drool on his chin. The motion must have alerted the other person as they turned their head to look at him.

“Morning, bro.”

Chan grumbled at the chipper greeting as he rubbed his eyes.

“Felix, the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Picking up where I was so rudely interrupted last night.”

Not having the energy to fire back a quip, the older roommate rolled his eyes. But then he realized something. There should have been a third occupant in the bedroom…

He looked next to where he was laying, frowning when he saw nothing but rumpled sheets, rather than an equally nude body.

“Where is she?”

“Went home, mate.”

Felix’s flippant response made Chan swear under his breath. Fuck, he meant to get your number or something before you left. He figured that the two of you were on the same wavelength after last night’s events and honestly, he didn’t want this to be a one and done. Did you get tired of waiting for him to wake up or…

He fixed a glare at the back of Felix’s head. “Did you scare her away?”

All he heard was the sip of a drink before his roommate answered.

“Nope.”

The flippant response made Chan hop out of bed, storming over to spin the chair around hard, gripping the blond’s shoulders with force.

“Felix, you little cunt, if I find out that you kicked her out just so you could play fucking Fortnite, I’m beating your ass.”

He was clearly unbothered, removing Chan’s hands from his person with laziness.

“Chill, man. I ran into her in the hall just as she was leaving. I had to play host since you were clearly doing a bad job at it.”

Chan raised a brow, his irritation cooling a bit. “Really?”

“Yup, offered her some of my brownies too. Sure did love them, even took a few to go.”

Huh. Well, at least Felix didn’t shoo you away, but it still didn’t assuage his worries. He’d just have to hope that he would see you at the club again. This time, he wouldn’t let you get away without an exchange of contact information.

Chan was ready to back off until he noticed the younger’s mouth twisting into a feline grin.

“At least one of us gave her something to remember this place by.”

Never mind. The anger came back in full force.

“You fucking—!”

He made a grab for Felix, but he slipped out from underneath him and ran out into the hallway. Not caring that he was still in his birthday suit, he chased him until he was cornered. The older man was ready to maim, slowly approaching until the other held his hands up in surrender.

“Wait wait wait, Chris! Before you murder me, I’ve got something for you.”

Chan was about ready to lunge when Felix spoke up. Shooting a look that emitted ‘you’ve got one chance’, he paused as he watched the other reach into the pocket of his pajama pants. He slipped something white and thin out before holding it towards him. Taking it with a scowl, the dark-haired man read over the writing on what he realized was a napkin. Each letter and number made his face mold into one of pure shock.

For it was your name and number written down, complete with a cute heart at the end.

“This is…”

Felix held his hands out to the side, looking a lot more smug now. “You’re welcome, mate. Pretty sure my baking changed her mind, but who knows? You might’ve put in some work last night, too.”

Chan shook his head, smiling a little bit now.

“Dickhead. Thanks for this.”

His roommate nodded before folding his arms and raising his brows. “Now can I please get back to my game?”

The brunette waved his hand as he began turning around, still gazing at your neat handwriting.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go on, I’ve gotta go shower anyways.”

“Yeah, go do that, bro—”

Felix began walking past his enamored friend. “You smell like sweat and smegma.”

Chan didn’t miss the opportunity to smack him on the back of the head, smirking at the cry of pain he let out. He headed off to the bathroom, checking to make sure the counter was dry before setting the napkin down.

He still couldn’t believe it; you actually left your number!

Just when he thought he’d have to rely on a chance encounter, Felix came through with a beacon of hope. Maybe he’d treat the little shit to dinner tonight; he had been airing his grievances on how it’s been ages since they’ve had Thai food. But first, Chan had something very important to do after his shower.

He had to update his contacts and try his best not to text you too soon.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[diagonal-queen]

chuuya, kunikida, and dazai with an s/o who would hide under the bed for no reason besides its nice down there and would sometimes grab their ankle to scare them

i would love to hang out under my bed tbh but i keep all my stuff under there lol. good deterrent for demons because then they can't fit under there

S/O who hides under the bed

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara, Doppo Kunikida, Dazai Osamu x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: How are these guys with an S/O who likes hanging out under the bed?

♡ cw: Swearing, teensy tiny bit of NSFW in Dazai's part.

note:

Seriously though. Thank you guys for all your sweet comments and messages I really appreciated all of them very much (and yes each one made me cry). I might not say it very much but I love all of you guys and I'm thankful for your support. Apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

Chuuya:

He's just kinda like...wha...? He's so confused at first lol

Even if you grab his ankle and try to scare him, he's just like...why'd you do that babygirl (gender neutral term). He'd also find it kind of adorable how frustrated you get that it didn't work, but what were you expecting? He's a mafia executive babygirl (again, gender neutral term)

Chuuya is little amused by your under-the-bed habit and lowkey thinks it's pretty cute. At first though he was kinda worried as to what caused it, but if it makes you feel better then he doesn't care

If he wants you out of there he will coax you out with your favourite food or something like you're a puppy (he's getting his yearning for a pet dog out of his system don't worry)

Probably wouldn't go under the bed with you super often, but you guys would have a lot of conversations while he's laying on the bed and you're laying under it. It's surprisingly easy to do!

Would start leaving you little gifts/snacks down there sometimes as a surprise

Probably wouldn't encourage you to sleep under there though. Spinal health and all

As always Chuuya is very supportive and all he wants is for you to feel happy and safe <3

Kunikida:

Worried about this habit at first. He assumes that it's some kind of trauma response. Whether it is or it isn't he'll learn to accept it don't worry

That being said he doesn't really love it. If you wanna relax he'd rather that you do it in a more comfortable space. If you're under there because you don't feel great then he'd rather you just talk to him. He'd do (almost) anything to make you feel better :')

If you grabbed his ankle one time to scare him he might never recover. Like he'd be genuinely terrified. Might faint or burst into tears or scream or something idk

Absolutely would chide you for your "childish behaviour". In all honesty he just feels like it's something Dazai would do and he suffers enough from this kind of thing at work

But yes in the end he would forgive you if you apologised to him. Might not be so kind if you continued trying to scare him though

Leaves you a pillow and a blanket down there just in case you get cold. He won't leave any food though because he's worried about ants and mould and stuff

Wouldn't go under there with you though. Sorry but he just doesn't wanna 😪

Honestly? As long as you're getting your shit done, he doesn't mind where you spend your free time

Dazai:

He literally doesn't even question it. Sometimes small spaces are just cosy y'know?

Dazai literally lived in a shipping container (at least I think? I haven't read Stormbringer yet T-T). He'd be all up for hanging out under the bed whether or not you were with him lol

The first time you grab his ankle to scare him, if you're lucky, you'll catch him off guard. But you're never getting his ass again, ever

I mean sometimes he might play along to humour you, but you'll literally never actually scare him again. Like he just walks into your bedroom under the assumption that you're under the bed and prepared to scare him.

Straight up if he can't find you when he wakes up or something he'll just guess that you're under the bed and won't bother you.

That being said if you straight up disappeared or something he'd obviously worry about you. But he gives you space when you need it, and will only come under the bed with you if you say he can

Also he would definitely start doing it to you. Both as revenge and just because he thinks it's funny, but he'll stop if you ask him to (you don't. It straight up becomes a war)

He straight up might try to get it on with you under the bed, as if there's room or something. Damnit Dazai

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fedyushka, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been A Long Time Coming: Chapter 5

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long. I've been dealing with a lot of writers block and I'm honestly not even sure this is any good. I have so much for Elvis and Viv that I want to get to. I hope people continue to read it. Or I'll just write it for me. But if you do read it, please please please leave a comment. I live for comments.

Need to catch up? Here is my masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, teensy bit of angst

Word count: ~2.4k

Oh, Elvis, she thinks. Why won't you come and rescue me from myself?

******

In December of 1962, Elvis brings Priscilla over from Germany in an attempt to stop thinking about Vivian. He hosts a New Year's Eve party and invites everyone, including her. He's hoping that seeing Viv and Priscilla in the same room will help him realize that Viv is not what he's looking for. He's been thinking about it a lot and honestly, she's too independent anyway. She probably wouldn't make a good wife. Priscilla, on the other hand, is young enough to still be molded and she seems ready to do whatever he asks. Isn't that what a wife should be? He repeats it like a mantra: not Vivian. Not Vivian. Not Vivian.

At the party, Priscilla and Viv reconnect briefly. He forgot they had known each other in Germany. Elvis nods and smiles awkwardly and then she turns to move around the party, leaving him with Cilla by his side. For the most part, he's successful in staying focused on Cilla. He catches glimpses of Viv briefly as she walks through the crowd, always with a drink in her hand.

Finally, he finds himself next to her at the table with the food in the dining room with no one else around.

"You're really serious about this thing with Priscilla?" Viv asks with her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah. Why?"

"She's a teenager."

"She makes sense to me, Viv." Vivian shrugs and concedes.

"I can't argue with that. She's not very complicated, so I believe that she makes sense to you." Elvis turns to look at her suddenly. Is she jealous?

"That's not fair, Viv."

"Is it not? I'm sorry. I just think you need someone more like..." She stops short of what she was going to say. He has an idea of how that sentence would've ended, though. "It doesn't matter. You like simplicity."

Something between rage and frustration bubbles up inside him.

"Which one of my friends are you fucking tonight, Viv?" He immediately regrets saying it as her mouth pops open and her eyes get glassy. "I'm sorry-"

"No, that's fair. Maybe Red." She turns and walks away from him quickly.

"Viv!" He calls after her but she doesn't turn around. "Goddamnit."

"You okay?" Elvis hears Cilla and works to recover his facade, turning to face her.

"Oh yeah, it's nothing, baby." She smiles and he is filled with the desire to take the stairs two at a time and go to bed. Alone.

******

Vivian sits in the bathroom trying to compose herself after her conversation with Elvis. She's a joke to him. And this girl, this Priscilla, she's what he wants. She'll never be that. She wasn't that sweet and demure even when she was 17.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door and she wipes her tears, assessing her makeup in the mirror, and opens it. It's Red. But despite what she said earlier, she pushes past him and goes straight to the front door. She has no desire to see Elvis and Priscilla kiss at midnight.

******

Elvis and Vivian avoid each other as much as possible before the spring of '63 when they both pick up the film Fun in Acapulco. Viv still hasn't managed to land another speaking part, but her work as an extra keeps her paid enough to eat. And when it doesn't, Elvis makes sure she's taken care of.

Filming the same movie means being on set together and after their last encounter, it's pretty awkward. Still, when Elvis finds himself in a particular predicament, she's the only one he can find to help.

His least favorite part of this movie is the pair of tiny blue shorts they have him wearing in several scenes. They're a lot like the ones from Blue Hawaii, but for some reason these just won't come off, especially when they're wet.

That's how Elvis finds himself in this situation. He has to go the bathroom. Badly. But they're in the middle of filming. Once the director finally calls cut, he's absolutely ready to burst. He makes his way to his trailer, frantically trying to figure out how to get his shorts off. Thats when he sees Vivian.

"Viv!" She stops dead in her tracks, recognizing his voice. She turns to him.

"What, Elvis?"

"I need your help." His desperation is palpable.

"With what?"

"Just come with me, please." He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his trailer. Once inside, he shuts the door and turns to her. "I have to pee so bad I might die."

"Okay? What does that have to-"

"I can't get these fucking shorts off, Viv."

"Oh, shit."

"I'm going to piss myself."

"Well, they're already wet." He looks at her with panic on his face.

"Are you gonna help me or not?!" She tries to focus and make sure she doesn't laugh.

"Yes, come here." She tries to tug on the shorts, but they don't budge.

"What if I kinda lift them off of me before you pull."

"Yeah, let's try that." Vivian gets on her knees in front of him to pull when he says to. He looks down at her on her knees in front of him and looks at the ceiling. He whispers to himself.

"Don't get hard. Don't get hard. Don't get hard."

"What's that?" Viv asks.

"Oh! Nothing." He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on what's happening.

"Okay, I'm gonna count to three. You lift them and I'll pull down. 1... 2... 3!" She gives his shorts a firm tug and they come down to his thighs. What neither of them realized about their plan is that pulling the shorts down means his dick is going to be right in her face.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." She tries to look away, but he whimpers, trying really hard not to pee on her. Finally, she gets the shorts down his legs and off and he runs into the bathroom. She sits in the living area with his shorts in her hand, laughing quietly.

He opens the door a little and hollers to her.

"Toss me the shorts. I think I can get them back on." But he can't. After about 12 minutes of struggling, he comes out with them stuck on his thighs, his hands covering himself. "Can you...?"

"Yes, I will. Come here." He waddles over to her with his hand still covering himself. He goes back to praying his body won't respond to the image of Vivian on her knees in front of him. He's doing okay, until she gets the shorts up higher and she puts her hand on him gently to try to stuff him into the shorts. He whimpers at her touch and becomes noticeably hard.

"God, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay; it happens, Elvis." She keeps trying to pull the shorts up despite his massive rock-hard erection.

Just then, there's a sharp knock on the door.

"Elvis, we need you back on set. Now." It's the director.

"Uh, just a second?"

"We don't have any more seconds. Wrap up what you're doing and come out. Now." They can tell by the director's tone that he assumes Elvis must be in there having sex with someone. Elvis is annoyed. That would be a much better excuse than what's actually happening.

He looks at Vivian frantically, his dick still standing at full attention with her on her knees trying to tuck it into the shorts. She whispers.

"It's not gonna fit like this. Can you... fix it?"

"Make it go away, you mean? I don't really have time to use my hand. And I can't think it away. That never works for me." It does work sometimes, but he knows it won't with the image of Viv on her knees.

"That settles it, then."

"Settles wh- OH MY GOD VIVIAN." Elvis falls backwards and braces himself as Vivian wraps her mouth around his cock and starts moving. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

He moans softly as she pulls off of him to explain.

"You need this gone. This'll work and it'll be faster than your hand. You want me to stop?" She looks up at him with his dick in her hand.

"No..."

"This is purely functional." She pulls him deep into her throat and sucks on him. His eyes roll back with the sensation of her warm little mouth on him. He's dreamed of this for so long, but the reality is better than he ever could've imagined. Her mouth moves skillfully up and down, complemented by her hand moving his foreskin back and forth. She licks a circle around the head and then deep throats him again. He grunts as his orgasm begins to build and he knows he won't last much longer.

The director pounds on the door again and hollers something, but Elvis is incapable of listening. Viv is working him with her mouth and hand, pulling out all her tricks to get him off as quickly as possible.

"Oh, god, Viv... that's so good..." He moans as she gets him closer and closer to the edge. He's gripping the counter behind him so tightly that his knuckles are white. She pulls back off of him and looks up at him with her big blue eyes, licking the precum off the tip of him.

"Let go, baby. You have to cum. Now." Something about her telling him what to do pushes him the last little bit and he tumbles into a mind-blowing orgasm, shooting his release down her throat. She swallows it easily, sucking until he relaxes, and then stops.

"Holy fuck, Viv..."

"Ah ha!" She cheers as she's finally able to get his shorts up and tuck his package into the front. Standing up, he looks into her eyes and wants to kiss her so badly. Still, despite what just happened, he's not sure he can.

"We're gonna talk about this later."

"Okay."

Just as the director is about to knock again, Elvis opens the door and walks out.

"What? I had to go to the bathroom."

******

Viv waits about ten minutes and then makes her way back to where she's supposed to be filming, in shock over what just happened. And now he wants to talk about it? What is there to say?

******

Elvis doesn't see Vivian again until the summer after the shorts incident. He can't decide if she's purposefully avoiding him or just busy, but she stays away. Part of him wonders if she's avoiding the conversation they were supposed to have after the blowjob. It never happened.

In July, Elvis is in Memphis just before he leaves for California to meet his costars and start filming his next movie. He comes across Vivian on Beale street.

"Viv!" When she sees him, she looks for an escape and doesn't see one, so she waits for him to catch up to where she is. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I've just been really busy."

"Look, I really need to talk to you. I'm leaving for California at 3. Will you come with me to Graceland? Please?" She looks around again for an exit and then looks back at him.

"Yeah."

"Good!" He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his car. They make small talk about what they've both been doing for the whole drive. Once they get to Graceland, Elvis settles them into the tv room.

"Are we ever going to talk about the head you gave me?" Viv shifts in her seat, obviously uncomfortable.

"What is there to say, Elvis? I sucked your dick to get it back in your shorts. That's it."

"That's it?!" He thinks back to the incredible orgasm he had at her doing. He wouldn't mind it happening again.

"Yeah? That's it." All of a sudden, something else bubbles up inside him and he stands up.

"VIVIAN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

"Wrong with me?!"

"Do I really mean so little to you that you can suck my cock and have absolutely no feelings about it?!"

"It was just to-"

"Get my shorts on. I know. Why am I just a sex object to you? Something to play with when you've been drinking?"

"What?" He's not talking about the blowjob anymore.

"Why do I mean nothing to you?"

"Elvis... I-"

"Why can't you see how much I-"

"Will you let me finish?!" He sits back down on the couch seething. "You don't mean nothing to me. You mean too much to me."

"Too much? What does that mean?" Vivian rolls her eyes and he's somewhere between wanting to slap her and wanting to kiss her.

"Elvis. Do you remember what I told you when you got in the fight with Joe?"

"Which part?"

"The part about how if I let myself, I could fall in love with you?" His heart pounds wildly in his chest.

"Yeah?"

"I've wanted you since the moment I met you. And not just for sex. Sex is like... I don't even know what it means for me but it's not love and you... I..." His stomach turns over and he's overcome with a need to take her in his arms and show her what love can be. Is she finally admitting what he's felt for all these years?

"Viv." He whispers it and cups her cheek in his hand. She leans into his touch. Just then, there's a knock on the door. Elvis curses loudly and then gets up to answer it. It's the Colonel.

"My boy, we need to head to the airport. You need to be in California soon." Elvis nods and then turns to Vivian, who has followed him up to the foyer. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"We will finish this when I get back, okay?"

She nods.

But he doesn't come back. Not this version of him anyway. The costar he goes to California to meet is a woman named Ann Margaret. And when he meets her, Vivian and all her complications become a distant memory.

But Priscilla? Priscilla won't go down so easily. She moved to the United States to marry him and she won't be deterred by the small matter of him being in love with another woman.

Elvis is trapped between three women and Vivian? She's the quietest of the three with what she assumes is the smallest claim on his heart.

She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[beatrixstonehill2]

"So.... you guys probably figured out what's going on by now," Sophie, who normally had a really soft, light voice, spoke in a raspy boyish voice. "Since my friend Laura tagged me in that video last week where you can hear me talk, and you can see my huge bulge in my shorts, I had my leg up and one of my balls was visible. Yes, they're really that big now, like the size of my fist! And yes, I don't bother shaving them.... Everyone in the comments was going crazy wondering what happened to me. My keener fans noticed I stopped talking in my videos a few months ago and have only been recording them like this, from my hips up....." Sophie shook her breasts, giggled in her cracked, masculine-sounding voice, repositioning herself, sitting further back, revealing her panties were totally incapable of hiding her genitals, wedged between her fully revealed cock and one of her rather hairy testicles. Her cock wasn't even erect and it must have been a foot long, swollen, thick as her forearm.

"Tada! Look at this monster cock I've grown." Sophie patted one her engorged balls, rubbing it. "And these babies are flooding my body with so much wonderful testosterone, it's enough to make a girl wanna drop everything and start being a boy! Sooo..... what happened, you might be asking. I know, I was super popular on Instagram, had a modeling deal and all that stuff. Since I went on blockers in junior high and started estrogen by my teens, my cock was really small. My balls, no lie, were like the size of marbles. They were so tiny and puny..... So I could hide my genitals really easily and look just like any other girl, even in a bikini. At most I'd use a little body tape to keep myself from getting little two-inch erections around all the other sexy girls in bikinis, with their big bouncy tits, their round preggo bellies, and goddddd I am so happy fat asses are in style now. Every girl is trying to outdo their friends and have the biggest ass of the group..... girls are either super thick and curvy or just really fat now and I'm definitely not complaining......

Well, my friend Jackie is dating a woman named Vallery, and they wanted to have kids. They couldn't decide who would carry the babies so they said screw it and both wanted to be knocked up. They came to me and told me they love my features, like my eyes and lips, and would be thrilled to have their daughters grow breasts as big as mine, and I've got the hips and one of the fattest asses of my friends' group.... They asked me to impregnate them. I told them my sperm count was pretty much zilch and they asked oh so nicely if I could go off my hrt for a month or two and try after that? I figured what could be the harm? My body took this opportunity to completely undo my transition. It's crazy how fast my body jumped through male puberty, and I'm still seeing new changes constantly, six months down the line.

By the time Jackie and Vallery wanted me to knock them up, my voice was already cracking, my cock was eight inches, and my balls were about the size of eggs. They still had so much growing to do, and I hope they keep getting bigger, I'm obsessed with my enormous cock and balls, how totally impossible they are to hide. How everyone knows when I'm horny, because this huge thing gets so big and erect, throbbing against my clothes, needing to be buried in whatever cute girl is making it so hard. Needless to say I topped Jackie and Vallery and got them very pregnant.... both with triplets! Not too bad for a former estrogen-addicted fakegirl. It's so incredible seeing Jackie and Vallery get so big and pregnant with my kids! I miiiight've knocked up a few more of my friends.... er, all of them. Some a teensy bit against their will, but they're elated to be knocked up now, and a slave to my growing cock.

It's getting too much to keep up with shaving my face and boobs and ass constantly, so as of today I'm stopping and just embracing being totally male, as I've always been.... just a silly fakegirl in denial. It doesn't matter if I've got a pretty voice and huge titties, wide hips and a big booty..... I still had constant fantasies about fucking all the girls around me who supported me as one of them, not knowing I'd go home and rub my pathetic little 'clit', fantasizing about raping them and getting them too pregnant to go about their lives normally. Silly, stupid fakegirl, always a month or two away from fully detransitioning if she forgot her fake hormones. What normal girl does that happen to? No real girl has to take estrogen or else she'll grow a horse cock and a gross set of balls so big I'm having trouble walking normal, let alone sitting. I literally have to spread my legs and basically 'present' my genitals just to sit in public. Everyone has to know what a horny, perverted guy I am, everywhere I go.

This'll be the last time you see me shaved, looking fem. I'm getting rid of my boobs next week, finally no more embarrassing, fat jiggly tits making me dysphoric no matter what tops I wear. They were fun while they lasted, and part of me will miss the constant attention and groping.... But now I'll walk around topless, my chest muscular and hairy. I'll wear pants and shorts that flaunt my huge cock. I can't wait to strut around the local parks and beaches finding pretty girls to knock up, and my fill of already massively pregnant girls who are simply to big to get away or resist my cock and receive a nice reward of cum filling their holes to the point that they overflow and leak the whole way home, so people know they're filthy little sluts who might as well be wearing a sign that says 'Free Use!' Oh well...... sorry to everyone who loved seeing me as a busty fakegirl with a fat ass who loved to party, suck cock and get ass fucked all night on TikTok. I hope you'll keep following me, and watch me knock up and fill the holes of as many girls as I can. Won't that be fun?"

[rentsturner]

If you’ve a lesson to teach me… - AT

professor!alex turner x fem!reader

Warnings: established student/teacher relationship, smut, spanking (with a riding crop), oral (male receiving), tiny bit of face fucking, bdsm undertones, unprotected piv sex, sir kink, alex has tattoos, aftercare, teensy bit of angst but lots of fluff, cuddling.

A/n: this is from a request where reader gets a bad grade and Alex ‘punishes’ her. It’s very smutty, but there’s fluff at the end I promise. Thank you as always to my bestie @martinipoliz who wrote like 25% of this fic and is always putting up with me and my moods, couldn’t do it without her. As always, if you don’t like it, don’t read it :)

Today is the day.

The day that you’ve been dreading all week and wishing it wouldn’t come, but it still has.

Last month, Alex gave your class a task which was due last week, and you had barely submitted it on time. Three minutes before the deadline, you were just so relieved that you finished the essay, but not without receiving a disapproving look from Alex as he took the paper from your hands.

To say that you’re nervous about your grade would be an understatement.

You’re fucking terrified.

It was unlike anything Alex had ever given before, and you’re not going to deny that you did struggle a bit coming to terms with some of the subject matter, so that it took you way too long to finally understand it, and even longer to come up with sentences that didn’t sound like absolute dogshit.

You had even tried asking Alex to maybe help you in some parts but then immediately backtracked when he gave you a stern stare that meant you can do this yourself, and so you accepted your fate and gave everything you could and hoped for a miracle.

And who are you kidding? That miracle did not happen.

Because the essay lands on your desk, a large red B- staring up at you, and suddenly getting swallowed by the ground doesn’t sound too bad at the moment.

For you, a B- isn't necessarily bad, but it’s not as good as you usually do. And you know for certain that Alex is not happy with it, by the way he sighs as he hands you the paper and looks down at you pointedly. He taps the ‘B-’ with one long finger.

“Not quite up to your usual standard, sweetheart.” he mutters, quiet enough just for you to hear, and your ears turn red in embarrassment.

And then he’s off, hurriedly handing out the rest of the papers and giving praise to other students, and your heart sinks. To top it all off, you hear him saying “good job, darling,” to the girl sitting at the front while you got nothing. Not even a mere good job too.

You rifle through the pages of your essay, reading Alex’s comments written in red pen. Most of them are constructive criticism, things that you can improve on quite easily, except for the note at the bottom of the page: ‘SEE ME AFTER CLASS’.

You sit through the rest of the class nervously, hands fidgeting, struggling to keep still. Alex notices your restlessness and sends you a stern look from the front of the class. Your stomach twists and clenches just thinking about what he might have planned for you, it’s making you hot and bothered just thinking about it, as well as incredibly nervous.

Alex has talked about punishment before, it’s come up a few times in the relationship that you’ve been having for the past four months. He’s rather very good at communicating and negotiating stuff with you, telling you to be open to him without feeling any shame, and you did.

You told him about the things you wanted to try out and he listened, nodded, indulged your fantasies without making you feel judged or walking on eggshells. Your confession ranged from giving him full authority over you during sex, to negotiating what kind of punishments you’d be comfortable with when you misbehaved. It seems that conversation will be coming in useful now.

Finally, Alex wraps up the class and dismisses the other students. You slowly pack up your notes and pens, waiting patiently for everyone else to filter out the class before making your way to Alex’s desk.

He’s piling up his papers, the sleeves of his white dress shirt neatly rolled up to the elbows.

When your shadow crosses over his desk, he looks up at you. His eyes are soft, but you can tell he’s disappointed.

“I know it was a hard paper, but I did expect better from you, darling.”

“I tried, Al, I promise, I just -”

“Maybe you need a reminder of how hard you should be working. You don’t get to coast in this class just because you’re fucking me. Handing it in with 3 minutes to go wasn’t acceptable either.” He raises his eyebrow at you before going back to stacking his papers.

You stay quiet, guilt and embarrassment rolling in your stomach. He’s right. You’re usually better than this, maybe you have taken your foot off the pedal the last few weeks. It wasn’t like you to hand in papers late, or struggle to write about a subject that you love. But you had been tired recently, it was getting to that time of year where everyone starts to burn out, you included.

Alex seems to notice your silence. He stops messing with his papers and places one hand on your shoulder, brushing his thumb gently along your skin.

“Look, I am a little disappointed in you, darling, and I admit that I expected better. But don’t mistake my disappointment as me being mad, because it’s different. If I was mad at you, I would’ve already bent you over this desk.” He chuckles at that, and you manage to crack a smile too, a jolt of electricity running through you from the thoughts that that comment incites.

“But, this is just me reminding you that just because I’m your boyfriend, that doesn’t make me any less of your teacher.” Alex squeezes your shoulder and you nod at him, understanding what he’s saying. Because he’s right, Alex is still your teacher, and you want to impress him with your work, not coast through his class.

Alex continues marking papers for a bit while you do some revision, taking your usual spot at the end of his desk. He notices you yawning and losing focus after a while, so he offers to order you an Uber back to his flat. You’re practically living at Alex’s place at the moment, half of your clothes and toiletries are there, and it’s a lot easier to go to and from school from his.

Alex walks you to the pick up point, one hand planted protectively on the small of your back - he’s planning to stay on campus for a little longer to finish marking, as he wants you all to himself when he gets home later.

When the Uber arrives, he grabs the door for you, ushering you into the car while he whispers, “I expect you to be naked and kneeling by the bed when I get back. If not, then you’d find yourself in more trouble than you already are.”

You shiver a little at his words, suspecting there would be some element of punishment involved tonight, but now that Alex has confirmed it, you’re incredibly excited. This is something you’ve wanted for a while, and obviously you didn’t want to do badly on your paper, but maybe something good can come out of it…

When you arrive at Alex’s flat, you manage to have a quick nap in an attempt to calm your nerves.

An hour later, you’re kneeling on the floor, ready and waiting. Your skin is coming out in goosebumps, partly from the cool air on your bare skin, partly from the anticipation of Alex arriving home. You rub your thighs together, trying to create some friction to ease the ache in your cunt. The sound of the door opening and then slamming shut startles you a little, your stomach dropping in excitement as you realise Alex is finally back. You hear him drop his bags in the hallway, then his long strides echo through the house as he makes his way up to the bedroom. The suspense is killing you now, you're practically shaking as you wait in your kneeling position for him. You just hope he’s impressed.

The door swings open and Alex enters, a smirk growing as he takes you in, naked and kneeling for him. You swear you see his pupils dilate, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“What a sight to see, really,” he comments, leaning down fully and pressing both of his hands on his knees to meet your eyes. “If only I get to see this every day I come home. Would you mind it, darling? Would you mind if I ask you to be in this exact position every day, naked and vulnerable, waiting for your Sir like a good girl?”

You shake your head, then open your mouth to speak. “I wouldn’t, sir.”

“Good. Because it’d be such a shame if you do,” Alex flashes you a smile, leaning forward to peck your lips. “But let’s not forget why you’re currently here in that position now, yeah? Can you tell me? Tell me the reason why I’m punishing you, wanna hear you say it.”

“I –” your lips quiver, gulping down hard. “Because I got a B- on my paper, sir.”

“That’s right,” he nods, now standing up straight and fixing his posture. “And what am I gonna do to you exactly?”

“Straighten me out?”

Alex laughs softly at your reply, bringing one of his hands up to pet your hair gently. It’s a small gesture yet still manages to make your stomach erupt with butterflies. “Not the words I would use, but sure, darling – I’ll straighten you out.”

Alex quickly discards his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, exposing his arms. You feel yourself gush just looking at them, the veins snaking across his pale skin, marred only by the intricate tattoos extending from his wrists up into the sleeves of his shirt. You think about how the patterns curl around his shoulders, spreading into wings across his back, how you trace them so gently when he’s sleeping, admiring the beauty of him.

Alex interrupts your thoughts, opening his wardrobe and rummaging around in there for a bit. You squirm with anticipation, having no idea what your boyfriend might have planned for you, only knowing that it’s going to be intense.

Alex turns round to face you, a menacing grin plastered across his face, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the object in his hands – a long, slim riding crop, the end a double fold of stiff leather. Your eyes widen, your heart racing as you watch Alex tap the end against his hand.

“What do you think of this, baby? Think you can take it?”

You nod again, but Alex needs more this time”

“Need your words for this, love. What’s your colour?”

“G–Green, sir, so green, please.”

Alex smirks. He takes a few strides so he’s standing over you, stroking your hair gently, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm.

“On the bed, baby. You know what to do.”

He points the crop to the king sized bed behind you, following you as you stretch your stiff legs and make your way over. You sink slowly onto the soft mattress, knowing exactly what position Alex wants you in – ass up, face down. You stretch your arms out in front of you to support your head and try to relax your thighs, presenting your bare cunt and ass to Alex. You can hear his breathing quicken as he takes you in – he’s just as excited as you are.

“I want you to count these out for me, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel the bed dip behind you as Alex takes his position, then hear the swoop of the riding crop through the air, then a burning sensation on your left ass cheek. God it hurts, but it feels so good at the same time, sending a jolt right to your cunt as you cry out.

“One, sir.”

He lands another one on your other cheek, you whimper as the burn spreads across your skin, and manage to whisper out a ‘Two, s- -sir.”

“Colour?”

“Green, please keep going Al – Sir, more please.”

Seems like Alex doesn’t like the way you accidentally addressed him by his name, and so two more quick swats land on your cheeks in quick succession. You bite into the pillow, feeling the tears welling up as you muffle your scream. It fucking burns. You’ve always been so used to his hands spanking you but never leather.

“Forgotten how to count already, princess?”

“No – no, Sir, just –” you sniffle, swallowing down the sob threatening to spill. “Three a–and four.”

“What’s that? Let me hear you –” he pauses, you try to look back in confusion, but before you can see what he’s up to, he’s already bringing the riding crop for another lash on your ass – much harder than the last four. “– say it fucking louder!”

“Five!” You scream, burying your face into the mattress and pulling your lower torso away from the sheer pain, but Alex places his hand on your waist to pull you back closer. “F–Five, Sir, that’s – that’s five, please, it hurts –”

“Does it?” Alex mocks. “You know deep down in yourself that you deserve it, so count properly unless you want me to bring the number up.”

You can’t bring yourself up to speak since you’re already shuddering from your sobs, your skin burning in pain, just adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. It was so much, all at once.

You took 5 more strokes from Alex, forcing out the number and a thank you each time, until the 10th blow had you collapsing onto the bed, shuddering and crying.

“Alright, I think that’s enough, yeah, baby?”

Alex places one hand on the small of your back, rubbing up and down your skin in an effort to calm your shaking form.

“You did so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”

Alex’s voice is softer now, and you suspect you’ve got past the worst of the punishment. His words fill you with warmth, and you nod and hiccup into the duvet, reaching one hand back to grab at Alex’s. He intertwines your fingers, letting you find comfort in him for a few moments.

“Good girl. But we aren’t done yet. Need you to make me feel good.”

You roll over, wincing as your raw ass rubs a little on the sheets. You aren’t going to be able to sit down for a few days, that’s for sure.

Alex shuffles to the end of bed and sits back on his heels, beckoning for you to come over, a growing bulge glaring obvious in his navy pants.

You crawl over to Alex, swaying your hips seductively as you move, knowing it will just turn him on even more.

You unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly, your hands shaking a little in your eagerness to please Alex. You’re practically drooling at the thought of his thick cock in your mouth. His fingers card through your hair, gathering it into a ponytail in one hand. He pulls your head back a little from his grip on your hair, until you’re looking up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown from anticipation, his chest heaving up and down under his shirt. God, you wish you could just rip the white fabric off him, run your hands over his shoulders and chest, feel the solid muscle under his smooth, pale skin.

“Slow down, baby, we’ve got all night, yeah?”

You nod your head, taking a few deep breaths before tugging on Alex’s boxers. He helps you pull them down, his cock slipping out, already thick and hard, a dribble of pre-cum leaking from the swollen tip. You wrap one hand around his length, feeling his velvety skin under your fingertips. Alex’s deep groan fills the room as you drop your head to lick slowly along the underside of his cock. His grip tightens on your hair as you suckle gently on the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum when you flick your tongue over his head. He sucks in a harsh breath, pulling on your hair.

“Don’t tease me now, darling, you’ll just make it worse for yourself.”

You smirk, giving him your best doe eyes, before ducking your head down to try and take him fully into your mouth, feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat and trying to swallow down a gag. You wrap your hand around his base, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth. You continue looking up at Alex, his face blurring as a film of tears cloud over your eyes.

Alex groans, the deep sound going straight to your cunt and you try to rub your thighs together for a bit of friction, but Alex is quick to put a stop to that.

“Uh uh, darling, none of that. You can have your pleasure when I’m done, alright?”

You just whine around his cock, bobbing your head and taking as much of him as you can. There’s drool dripping down your chin and tears slowly spilling from your eyes. Even after numerous tries, you don’t think there will be a day in your life where you can fully take his whole nine inches down your throat without choking yourself to death – but whatever, that’s one good way to die.

“Fuck – so good baby, so good to me.” Alex pants, hand fisting your hair roughly as his hips buck against your mouth. You choke a little at the action and your own hands go to grip his thighs for support, a trail of spit dripping down your chin and onto the floor as the fat head of his cock hits the back of your throat again. “Yeah, darling, fucking choke on it – take it all, fucking take it all like the good girl you are –”

You moan at his words, feeling his cock throb in your mouth, so hot and heavy on your tongue. He’s close, you can tell, so you hollow your cheeks and suckle fervently on his length, getting Alex to his climax the only thing on your mind. Alex growls and you feel a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his cock, and you peer up at him, confused. A string of saliva still connects your lips to his cock and you can see it twitching in front of your face.

“Want to come in your cunt, darling.” Alex declares in between pants.

You nod your head eagerly. “Please, sir, want your cock, please.”

Alex nods, pushing you back until you’re lying back on the soft pillows. He grabs your wrists and puts them above your head. “These stay here, okay?”

You nod again, although you're desperate to touch Alex, you know it's better to do what he says. The cuddling can come later.

Alex drapes himself over your body, the fabric of his trousers brushing against your skin as he nudges your thighs apart, his hand dropping down to spread your folds.

“Fuck, baby, so wet for me, you just fucking love getting punished, don’t you?” One long finger flicks over your clit, spreading your slick over your hot skin. He’s right, you're soaked, a result of the spanking and having his cock in your mouth, so ready for him to have his way with you. And so is he, you can feel his hard cock pressing against your leg, still sticky from a mix of your saliva and Alex’s precum. You moan as Alex’s two fingers press roughly into your cunt, scissoring and pressing against your walls, trying to find that special spot inside you.

“You’re lucky I’m giving you some prep, baby, bad girls don’t get stretched out before they take my cock. But you’ve done well for me so far, so I’m gonna be generous.” Alex pants into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them. Your eyes widen as his face contorts in bliss, licking all of your juices off of his digits. His eyelashes flutter as he looks down at you, his eyes are dark, lust completely overtaking any semblance of reason.

“Gonna fuck you now, darling.”

You both groan in unison as Alex nudges his cock against your clit, grabbing himself at the base to push slowly inside of you. Despite how wet you are, and the few moments Alex spent stretching you out, there’s still a sharp burn as your walls try to accommodate his girth. He’s hot and heavy, throbbing inside of you, and you swear you can feel every ridge and vein as he slowly bottoms out.

Your whole body is trembling, your eyes rolling back into your head, the feeling of Alex so deep inside you almost enough to send you over the edge right there and then. You clench your fists, trying to keep your hands in the position you left them in, fighting the urge to rip Alex’s shirt off and scratch your nails down his back.

“Look at me, baby, look at me while I’m fucking you.” Alex practically growls, grabbing your chin in his hand and turning your face to him.

“Please move, Al- Sorry, Sir, please move.” The feeling of being full is so overwhelming, you need him to move or you might just combust.

Alex just smirks. “I really don’t think you're in any position to be making demands right now, darling. Remember why you’re here, yeah?”

You just whine and nod your head submissively, trying to keep your gaze on his. He lets you suffer for a few moments before finally moving his hips. He pulls out until just his tip is left snug in your hole, then slams his hip back forwards. You scream as his cock drags along your walls, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and his balls slapping against your still raw ass. Within seconds, the fire in your belly is reignited and you can feel yourself approaching your orgasm. You feel like you've been on the edge the whole night, and now, finally, you might get your release.

Alex pounds into you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his gasps and moans coming in time with his thrusts. You can feel the sweat dripping down his brow onto your chest, the fabric of his shirt rubbing roughly against your nipples. You’re desperate to touch him, to run your hands over his shoulder, his neck, his hair, and you can’t hold it back anymore.

“Please, sir, p–please can I touch you? Please, I need to.”

Alex lifts his head from your neck, one sweaty lock of hair falling over his forehead as he looks down at you. “Oh really? You think you’ve been good enough to touch me?”

“Y–Yes, please, I’ve been a good girl, I have.”

Alex shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Good girls don’t get bad grades, do they?”

You’re truly on the edge now, can feel your orgasm approaching like a runaway train, and you squeeze your eyes shut to try to fend it off, not wanting to come without your arms around Alex.

“You close, baby? Gonna come for me?”

You shake your head desperately. “Please, sir, need to touch you, please.”

“You wanna touch me?” Alex smirks, breathing hard as he drives his cock even deeper, loving the way your walls clench around his length everytime he hits that special spot that never fails to make you fucking shake. “If you wanna touch me, you better cum around my cock and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Now that’s something that’s not very difficult to do. With a sniffle and a loud whimper, you crack open your teary eyes and look at him. He’s watching you very carefully. One of the few things you’ve noticed at the start of your relationship is that he never takes his eyes off of you when you’re cumming – whether it’s around his cock or his fingers or even his mouth, his eyes will always find their way to look at your face as you crumble down from both his generosity and cruelty.

Your vision tunnels to just Alex’s face, his dark eyes, long lashes, pale skin, the little scar under his brow, and you come. The emotions of the past few hours finally catch up with you and you shake and shudder under Alex, clenching and milking him for all he’s worth. He groans and his hips stutter as he reaches his climax as well, a warmth filling you as he empties himself deep inside of you. You sob and bury your face in Alex’s neck, which is damp from sweat. His chain presses against your cheek, cold against your burning skin.

“Fuck, baby, such a good girl, so good for me. Come here, love.”

And finally you move your stiff arms to wrap yourself around Alex, curling your legs around his waist, his softening cock still inside of you. You tug at his shirt, whining into his neck and Alex immediately knows what you want, pulling back for a moment to peel the shirt off his shoulders, flinging it to the other side of the room. His pants are also discarded within moments, until he’s left just as naked as you are. His chest is sweaty and if you aren’t so tired from getting dicked down within an inch of your life, you would’ve taken your time admiring it and maybe leaving a very funny comment that would surely make him laugh.

But unfortunately you don’t have the energy to do all that, you’re sure Alex will understand.

“Tired?” He croons, pressing his hand on your cheek, loving the way it’s burning and still a bit wet from your tears. “You wanna shower, baby? Need your answer here, don’t leave me hanging.”

“No,” you whine, pawing at his shoulder and pulling him closer, purposefully draping his whole body on top of you and putting his head in the crook of your neck. “Stay here.”

You hear him chuckling, his hot breath tickling your neck as his hands then move underneath your back and wrap you up with his body like a big weighted blanket. “You wanna stay like this? All night? You sure I'm not gonna crush you or something?”

“No, you’re warm.”

Based on your short responses and clingy attitude, Alex comes to the conclusion that you’re in one of those moods again. You often get clingy and a bit out of it after a good orgasm, but not entirely in subspace. He would’ve known the tone of your voice if you were, but right now he thinks you’re just a bit floaty, and you think you are too.

“Is there anything you want to do after, baby? Take a bath? Sleep? Order a takeout?”

You don’t know. You’re still very much intoxicated by his scent especially since he’s closer to you than he has been all day. Alex’s aftershave mixed with his sweat is practically making you mewl like a kitten, and you have to stop every urge not to rub your cheeks against him like one.

“How about just lie here for a bit, then take a bath, then order a takeout, then sleep?” You suggest, voice hoarse and raw from getting throatfucked earlier. Wonderful. “And I wanna…” You trail off, a hand snaking up to play with his hair.

“Wanna what?” Even though you don’t see Alex’s face, you can practically visualise in your head that he’s currently holding up his confused expression. Raised eyebrow and all. “You wanna go for another round or something?”

“No!” You giggle, slapping him slightly on the shoulder, which earns a quick nip on your neck and a chuckle from Alex. “Well, not that it’s a problem. But that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“Wanna apologise.” There it goes. Your voice sounds a bit teary and sad, no doubt Alex picks up on that. “I didn’t… mean to have that kind of grade, you know that. It’s just everything has been stressing me out lately and I haven’t really figured out how to fix it yet. I guess overthinking about making it all better kept me from putting all my focus on that paper. I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Alex doesn’t answer for a bit and you think that maybe he’s thinking if your excuse is good enough, but luckily that’s not the case when you feel his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck and up behind your ear. You flinch a little from being ticklish, a giggle spilling out of your mouth.

“I know you will,” Alex finally says, pulling his head back and looking at your face. “I know you’ll do better, sweetheart. You always do. And I love you for that. You know that if there’s something bothering you, you can always just ask me for help, right? I’m not a mind reader, darling, that’s why we need to communicate. I’m not always with you when we’re in school so I have no idea what problems you might be facing, but if there’s something I can do to help, then please tell me. Okay?”

He’s right. He always is.

“Okay. I understand. I love you too,” you give him a smile, now feeling a little shy under his stare as he brushes your hair out of your face. “I’ll tell you about my problems next time. Would you still help me if it was about your subject, though?”

Alex laughs cheekily at your question, leaning down to kiss your nose. “I’ll think about it. Still depends if you’d be willing to give me something in return.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirk an eyebrow, a playful grin making its way on your face. “And what’s that?”

“What do we say about roleplay –”

You push his shoulders before he can even finish his question, barking out a laugh when Alex only scoops his arms underneath your back again and pulling you closer to him.

“Absolutely not!”