#if someone's got a good briefing and/or explanation

[bad-traffic-smp-ideas]

Right then. Something happened.

[foxy-eva]

Snow Angel

Summary: Reader really knows how to get Spencer in a festive mood

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a hint at Spencer’s sad childhood, food mentions, heavy kissing, oral (fem receiving), handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: This is my gift for @drgenius-reid ! I wrote it as a part of this year’s Criminal Minds gift exchange @cmgiftexchange

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Spencer’s hand kept mine warm as we walked along a snow-covered path in the park. Seeing everything covered in a soft, white layer really got me in a festive mood, excited to have someone to spend the holidays with this year. 

“So, Christmas is in a few days. Do you have any plans?” I wondered while gently squeezing his hand. 

He turned his head to find my eyes as he cooed, “I was hoping to spend it with you.”

“I would really like that.” 

He smiled at me for a brief moment before he averted his eyes to look at the snow beneath his feet. After taking a deep breath, he asked, “Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.”

Spencer stopped his movements to be able to fully look at me while he said, “Growing up in the desert with a sick mom, Christmas always felt like any other day to me. I never understood what people meant when they talked about how magical this time of year is. That was until I met you. I can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with you.”

I placed my arms around his neck to find his lips in a chaste kiss before whispering, “I love you.” 

His breath felt hot against my face when he breathed, “I love you, too.” 

It was then that I decided to make it my mission to show him how magical Christmas could be. There was so much about this time of year that he probably never got to experience and I was adamant to change that. 

“Let’s make snow angels!” I chirped and was met with a surprised look. 

“What?” 

Without further explanation I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the ground with me. He watched my motions for a moment before he lay down in the snow himself, mirroring what I was doing. We both couldn’t hold back the fit of laughter falling from our lips. 

When we got up from the ground, we took a moment to admire two perfect snow angels before rushing back to my apartment. Spencer’s cheeks were rosy when we got back into the comfort of my home, signaling that he was just as cold as I was. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the cold,” he muttered as he took off his damp coat. 

“I know a way to warm you up,” I told him. “Why don’t you take a blanket and wait for me on the couch.” 

When I returned to him with a mug of hot cocoa, he raised his eyebrows and chuckled, “I thought you had had something else in mind.”

“Naughty boy!” I laughed as I sat down beside him. “Don’t you know that Santa only brings presents to good boys?” 

He just shrugged as he took the mug and said, “I’m okay with that, I already have everything I could wish for.”

I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before I turned on the TV to put on the corniest Christmas romcom I could find. 

“Snow angels - check! Next on my agenda to experience the Christmas spirit are hot cocoa and terrible Christmas movies,” I announced. 

Spencer playfully rolled his eyes but I knew that he was enjoying my enthusiasm. He took the blanket to place it over the both of us before wrapping one arm around me to keep me close to him. 

When a scene of the main characters decorating a Christmas tree came on, I decided that we should do that, too. “We should get a Christmas tree for your apartment,” I let him know. “We could decorate it with purple ornaments.” 

“That sounds really nice.”

I adjusted my position inside his arms until I could fully look at him to tell him, “And we need to bake cookies! I have a recipe for the best chocolate chip cookies you’ll ever taste.”

“Cookies sound great-,” Spencer agreed before finding my lips to mumble against them, “- but I’d rather have you right now.” 

The movie playing in the background was quickly forgotten as we deepened our kiss. His lips felt soft and demanding at the same time and when his tongue met mine it was as if we melted into one another. It only took a few moments until I noticed a familiar warmth rushing through my body, making me eager to feel more of him. My hand wandered to the hem of his sweater, dipping beneath it to feel the heat of his skin. 

“Are you still cold?” I breathed into the kiss. 

“No.”

I broke the kiss to smirk at him as I purred, “Good. That means you can take your sweater off.” 

Spencer chuckled at my words but did as I said. Slowly we helped each other shed each layer of clothing until there was nothing left to separate our bodies as we lay beside one another on the couch.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he purred as he kissed down my neck. 

His hands began exploring the curves of my breasts and I felt him smiling against my skin when I answered his touches with the sounds of my pleasure. His fingertips were soon replaced by his lips as he kissed every inch of my skin within reach. Gently, he pushed apart my thighs and lay down between them before he began nipping and licking along my inner thighs. 

I knew that I was dripping with desire at this point but Spencer took his time to tease me. I was sure he didn’t do it on purpose. It wasn’t the first time that he lost track of time worshipping me, his eyes always filled with wonder when he kissed along all the curves and dips my body had to offer.

“Please…,” I finally whimpered. “I need you.” 

It was as if my words had snapped him out of a trance. He mumbled, “Sorry,” against my thigh before his mouth finally focussed on my center. My hands flew to his head, my fingers intertwining with his curls as he brought me closer to my breaking point. I dared to look down at him and moaned at the sight of half of his face buried between my thighs. It looked downright sinful. 

It took just a few more moments of his skillful motions until I entered a state of pure bliss. Spencer’s hands grabbed my hips to keep me steady as he guided me through my high. When my body began relaxing underneath him, he placed a few more soft kisses against my folds before finding his home inside my arms. 

I was quick to reach down to find his hardness, making him shudder at the sudden touch. My fingers wrapped around him and began moving just the way I knew he liked. My motions were immediately rewarded by his sighs and groans. When I let my thumb brush over his leaking tip, he whined my name against my neck. 

“Tell me what you want, love,” I cooed as I kept stroking him. 

“I–,” he whimpered as he locked eyes with me. “I… wanna be inside you. Please.” 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

It took him a few seconds to process my words. The thought that I had the ability to make the smartest and most eloquent man I knew forget everything else but me made me smile. He repositioned himself until he was kneeling between my legs, taking a moment to let his eyes wander over my body. 

“I’m so lucky,” he purred as he leaned over me. “So lucky to have you.” 

I reached between our bodies to guide him to my entrance. He took his time entering my body, a sigh falling from his lips with every inch that disappeared inside me. When he was fully inside me, he leaned down to kiss me. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him even closer against me until there was no distance to be found between us. 

Slowly we began moving, our hips grinding against one another in perfect synchronicity. We got lost inside each other’s arms. As our bodies merched there was no way of telling where my body ended and his began. Together we chased the sweet relief with heavy breaths and accelerated motions until we fell over the edge together. 

Each of the pulses of my walls around him was answered with him throbbing inside me, sharing his warmth with me until he had nothing left to give. He collapsed into my arms and buried his face into the crook of my neck as he tried to even out his breathing. Our bodies stayed connected for as long as possible but we had to let go of each other eventually. 

After cleaning up I found my home inside Spencer’s arms, my head resting on his chest. His heart was still beating faster than usual but it slowed down after a few more moments. 

“I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you,” he whispered. “And every holiday after that.” 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22 @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie

[mcdynamite]

Nancy Wheeler has always been observant. It's something she prides herself on, if she's honest. It's what she knows will make her an excellent investigative reporter one day. It helps her make connections that other people might miss and remember the smallest of details that could make or break a story.

Perhaps most importantly, it's what makes her good at reading people – their micro-expressions, their body language, what makes them tick. She's good at it with anyone, but especially when it comes to the people she knows best.

So it's only logical that she's the first to notice when Steve starts to fall for Eddie Munson.

The signs are subtle, at first, but they're there, and Nancy can see them from a mile away. She's got the added bonus of having been the object of Steve's affections, once upon a time, so she knows what to look for. She knows that with Steve, it always starts with the lingering glances. He's never been able to keep his eyes off the people he wants, and it's this that first clues her in on the whole thing.

She's at Penny's Diner with Steve, Robin, and Eddie, and their waitress is laying it on thick, flirting relentlessly with Steve, batting her eyelashes dramatically and swaying her hips more than is objectively necessary whenever she walks away. And sure, Steve hasn't gone for any of the girls that act this way around him in a long time, but he always, always looks. Hell, even Nancy looks, sometimes, when a girl is objectively pretty. She's big enough to admit (to herself, at least) that boys aren't the only dating pool she's interested in, now that she and Jonathan are done.

But that day at Penny's, Steve doesn't give the poor waitress so much as a second glance, because that day, Steve can't seem to stop looking at Eddie.

At first, Nancy is sure she's imagining it – the way Steve's eyes linger on the dungeon master like he can't bring himself to look away – but it gets harder and harder to deny the longer they sit there sipping their milkshakes. Eddie is debating something silly with Robin, and Steve is just... watching him.

Steve's got this fond little smile on his face, and it's a look Nancy recognizes immediately. It used to be directed at her. And honestly? She's a bit relieved it's not, anymore, because she loves Steve, but not like that. Not the way she was worried Steve still loved her... the way she wonders if Steve might be falling for Eddie.

She sort of keeps an eye out for things, after that day – the little things that give Steve away when he's crushing hard on somebody. The lingering glances. The soft smiles. The brief touches. The flimsy excuses for stepping into Eddie's space, like the day Steve sees Eddie struggling with the lighter, and instead of just lending Eddie his own, he steps forward until their shoes are practically touching and holds up the flame for him.

She sees it all and wonders how in the world nobody else has caught on yet. Even Robin, Steve's best friend in the entire world, seems puzzled by the sudden lack of dates on Steve's calendar. Sometimes Nancy wants to grab her by the shoulders and tell her to just think a little harder.

(Nancy wants to grab Robin by the shoulders for other reasons, too – reasons that involve pulling Robin closer and kissing the living daylights out of her – but that's neither here nor there.)

But no matter how long Steve's pining lasts, no matter how obvious he's getting, nobody else seems to notice. It's mildly infuriating, but Nancy isn't about to talk to anyone else about it. It's dangerous being queer in this part of Indiana, and even though she knows that their little monster-fighting family won't care, it's still not her secret to tell.

It all comes to a head at a bonfire one night, midway through the summer, when the kids are once again grilling Steve on his sudden lack of a dating life. And it's Max who first cottons on to the most plausible explanation.

"Oh my God, wait, you like someone!" Max gasps midway through Dustin's interrogation.

There's a brief silence, and then the kids are all shouting.

"Oh, shit, Max, you're right. He totally does!" Dustin cries.

Steve tries to protest, but it's useless, because ever since Steve shed his royal persona two years ago, he's been a truly terrible liar. He looks like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and vaguely panicky, but Dustin Henderson has never been very good at letting things go.

"You have to tell us who it is!" Dustin presses. "We're your friends, Steve. Friends tell each other things. Unless..." Dustin gasps dramatically. "Unless she's someone we know..."

That shuts everyone up all at once, even Robin and Eddie, who have been having their own little conversation off to the side. Everyone stares at Steve, and then half of their eyes go to Nancy herself, and the other half land on Robin. It might make Nancy laugh, if Steve didn't look so close to throwing up.

"Right, well this is stupid," Steve says, smacking his hands on his knees and pushing up out of the chair. "I'm going to get another drink, and when I get back, we're dropping this."

He turns and hurries into the house, and Nancy glances around their little circle. Robin looks confused, but mostly worried. Eddie looks vaguely sick. And most of the kids just look shocked. They all start to murmur amongst themselves after the door slides shut behind Steve's retreating form. Nancy sees the way his whole body seems to sag, watching through the glass, and decides she's had enough.

She gets up, ignoring the way the murmuring gets louder as she walks, and follows him.

She finds Steve bent over the kitchen counter, palms pressed into the granite and head bent towards his chest. He looks like he's on the verge of panicking, and her heart aches for him. He's been through so much – some of which Nancy knows is her fault – and God, she just wants him to be happy for once.

"Steve?" she says softly.

Steve flinches at the sound of her voice, like he was so lost in thought he didn't even realize she'd followed him.

"There's something I wanted to-"

"Before you say anything, it's not you," he interupts flatly before she can finish. He pushes off the counter to look at her with sad, earnest eyes. "I know things were, like, weird when we were in the Upside Down, and we never really talked about it, but... I don't feel that way about you anymore. So you don't have to worry."

Nancy just blinks at him.

"That... that's what you wanted to talk about, right?" he asks.

"No, actually," Nancy says carefully. "I sort of knew you didn't feel like that about me, and I don't feel that way about you, so that's a non-issue, but..."

Steve looks relieved for a second, then tenses up again. "But...?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"I, um... I think I might have an idea who it is – if Max is right, that is, and you really do like someone," she says.

Steve sighs. "It's not Robin, if that's what you're thinking."

"No," Nancy says softly, shaking her head. "No, it's not."

Steve frowns and averts his eyes, arms crossing protectively over his chest. He doesn't say anything.

Nancy considers her options. She wonders how she should play this, how to go about bringing this up. In the end, she just goes with her gut.

"Did you know I like girls?" she asks. It's the first time she's said it aloud to anyone, but it feels good. It feels like the right time. Besides, she wants to do this for Steve – to make him feel more comfortable. It's the least she can do.

Steve's eyes snap up to look at her again.

"I still like boys, too, but yeah... I like both, so..." She takes a deep breath. "If there was anything you wanted to tell someone about how you feel about... someone else... I'm not going to judge you."

Steve bites his lip. He looks painfully conflicted, and a little bit like he might cry. "I, uh..." he stammers. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath… clears his throat. "Okay first of all, thank you for trusting me with that, and you know I support you. I just want you to be happy, Nance."

Nancy nods, because she knows. She's always known. "That's what I want for you, too," she says. She takes a step forward and takes one of his hands in hers, because Steve's eyes are getting watery, and she hates seeing people cry. "You don't have to tell me, but if you want-"

"I think I like Eddie," Steve says suddenly, voice whisper-soft. He looks terrified when he meets Nancy's eyes again. "I, um... yeah. I like Eddie."

Nancy offers him what she hopes is an encouraging smile and nods. "Yeah, I kinda figured."

"Shit, am I that obvious?" Steve says weakly, and Nancy can't help but laugh softly.

"God, no," she says. "Well, to me, you are, but to everyone else? God, they're clueless. I promise you that nobody else has any clue, and it's been driving me crazy."

To her relief, Steve huffs out a soft laugh, as well. "Yeah, well, you've always been sort of freakishly observant, haven't you?"

It's true. She's always been like this, and that's precisely why she feels confident enough to make her next statement.

"You should tell him, Steve," she says.

Because Steve isn't the only person she's been watching for the past few months.

She's been watching Eddie, too, so she's seen Eddie's dopey, smitten smile whenever Steve makes a terrible joke. She's watched Eddie pull his hair in front of his mouth bashfully after Steve teases him. She's seen the blush on Eddie's cheeks whenever Steve steps into his personal space.

Steve Harrington isn't the only one who's been busy falling in love.

As usual, nobody else has noticed.

"No, absolutely not," Steve says, pulling his hand away and running both hands through his hair instead. "Are you crazy, Nance? He'll hate me!"

Nancy is pretty sure she deserves an Oscar for keeping her expression neutral, because the urge to roll her eyes is physically painful to resist.

"Steve," she says calmly. "I love you, and I love Eddie, but the two of you are idiots if you can't see how hard you've been pining over each other, and I am not above physically knocking your heads together to get you to realize that."

Steve's eyebrows disappear behind his hairline, and Nancy almost laughs. "Jesus, when did you get so threatening, Wheeler?" he grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile on his face. It's quickly swept away by fear, though, and Nancy's heart breaks a little when Steve looks at her with those puppy-dog eyes of his and asks, "What if you're wrong?"

She's only just opened her mouth to reply when the sliding door opens again, and someone else joins them in the kitchen.

Eddie's eyes dart back and forth between Nancy and Steve assessingly, and Nancy has to bite back a laugh because oh. Eddie was jealous.

"Sorry to interrupt," Eddie says, one eyebrow raised. "Just wanted to make sure everything was okay." He focuses his gaze on Steve, eyes softening. It's disgustingly adorable, how earnestly concerned he looks. "You doin' alright, Stevie? Kinda left in a hurry back there."

Steve glances at Nancy, face becoming redder by the second. Nancy smiles.

"Well I'm going to let you talk," she says casually. Steve's eyes nearly bug out of his head, but she puts both hands on his shoulders and looks him straight in the eyes before he can protest. "But to answer your question from before... I'm not wrong," she murmurs softly, so only Steve can hear. 

She pats him gently on the cheek and turns on her heel before Steve can respond, catching Eddie's eye on the way out. He looks perplexed, and she just smiles.

The kids hardly notice when she rejoins the circle around the fire. They've already moved on to topics that don't involve their babysitter's love life, but Robin still looks worried. It's cute. God, Robin is so cute, Nancy can hardly stand it.

"Is he okay?" Robin asks quietly. "He looked pretty upset when he left, and then you guys were gone for a while, and Eddie thought maybe you were getting back together, but I told him that was ridiculous, and now neither of them are back yet, and-"

"They're fine, I promise," Nancy says with a grin, interrupting Robin’s rambling. "They just... needed a little nudge."

Nancy gets to see the moment it clicks for Robin, and it's only a little bit hilarious. "Wait..." Robin says, mouth dropping open. "Steve...?"

Nancy nods, smile widening.

"And Eddie?"

"Yep," Nancy says. Robin looks on the verge of a massive freakout (a positive one, obviously, but a freakout nonetheless), and Nancy doesn't want her to unwittingly out both of the boys to the kids, so she changes the topic. She figures if she's making Steve deal with his feelings, she might as well do the same. You know, solidarity, and all that.

"By the way," Nancy says coolly, quietly, "did you know I'm bisexual?"

She has to cover Robin's mouth with her hand to stop her shriek of surprise, but it's worth it, because Robin instantly turns into a blushing, stuttering mess, and it's so stupidly endearing. Nancy wants to kiss her until neither of them can remember their own names.

It's even more endearing when Nancy tells her, "Yeah, so I'd really like to talk later, after the kids go to bed, if that's okay?" And Robin looks like she might faint when she blushes and whimpers out a yes.

Nancy just grins and threads their fingers together, hands tucked out of sight from the kids.

They're still sitting like that when Steve and Eddie finally come out of the house after a very long time, both boys looking flushed and a bit disheveled, but happy.

"Thought you were getting another drink?" Erica snarks at Steve when they sit down, and Nancy snorts, because Steve definitely returned empty-handed.

Steve's eyes widen and he looks at Eddie sheepishly. "I, uh... got a little distracted."

Only Max seems to recognize the implications, because her jaw drops, but Robin nudges her with her foot before she can say anything, and Max instantly shuts her mouth. She's still got a knowing look on her face, but Nancy knows she won't go outing anyone to the others. She's a good kid.

"God, you have the attention span of a puppy, Steve, I swear," Dustin grumbles, and the conversation quickly moves on.

Nancy is mostly quiet for the rest of the night, silently observing all of her friends and reveling in the feeling of Robin's hand in hers. She watches as Max tentatively rests her head on Lucas's shoulder. Watches Lucas's eyes widen and sees the internal freakout happening in his mind. She sees the way Eddie and Steve sit closer than before, practically on top of each other, faces flushed with happiness while they all make s'mores. She watches her brother look hopelessly confused sitting between Will and El, because he hasn't yet realized that while he is in love with one of them, it's not the one he thinks it is.

And at the end of the night, after the kids are all settled in the massive living room and she and Robin head for the guest room, Nancy catches Steve's eye. He and Eddie are holding hands now that they're out of sight of the kids, and Eddie can't stop staring at Steve like he's some sort of miracle. But just this once, Steve tears his eyes away from Eddie to meet Nancy's.

He smiles, mouths thank you, and gives an approving nod when his eyes land on her hand, which is still wrapped around Robin's.

Nancy just smiles and nods, and watches as Eddie impatiently tugs Steve into the bedroom and shuts the door. As Robin does the same to her, pulling her eagerly into the guest room, she has a wild thought.

If the investigative journalism thing doesn't work out, there's always the option of matchmaker.

She's apparently pretty damn good at it, after all.

And she's always been observant.

[satoruhour]

Loved the recent sukuna racer au 😭😭😭🩷🩷 can you elaborate a bit more on geto in the same racer au? 🥺🩷🩷🩷🩷

LLOROMANNIC

a/n: thx 4 this ask anon, this is rlly long bahaah i hope u enjoy! more context here. for recap, reader is in japan for an exchange programme.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: (fluff @ the start, smut comes in later) virginity loss, soft dom!geto, geto really really is obsessed w/ you, oral / cunnilingus (eats pussy like this! like i really don’t know what this position’s called), pet names, slight nipple play, clit stimulation, fingering, slight size kink, p -> v penetration, protected sex, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knows how the two of you became so close after that fateful meeting. they’re still wondering how you drew suguru in so effortlessly — some say you planned it, others say it was just by chance, but you’re not too sure yourself when all you can focus on is the racer beside you muttering into your skin a year after.

it was a(n almost) blissful six months when you first start out. that day he did keep his promise, winning the race without breaking a sweat and you cheer for geto unconsciously, catching the curious eyes of gojo and nanami who exchange looks — maybe you’d finally be the someone to capture geto’s heart.

geto made an effort to u-turn back to the corner he was parked in with the passenger side to you and he leans over to open it for you, but in return it just gathers more attention. “shall we go?” you try your best to escape the prying eyes of the tokyo crowd, and with a wave to the other two, geto is speeding off once you’ve gotten into the car.

“so… why’re you driving me there?”

“why cinnamoroll? berry and cherry’s a hundred times better.” he comments, and much to your dismay, he just answers your question with a less serious question than yours.

“why not?”

“well i mean…” was this man really about to lecture you on sanrio characters? his explanation is brief, but detailed, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh — although a snort still leaves you — just as he turns into the next carpark that you were supposed to go into instead and he’s asking what? like he didn’t just ramble about two sanrio demon characters. 

“eh, it’s just cute that a scary, cool racer guy like you knows so much about sanrio.” you giggle when you watch him find an empty spot, and you’re trying to not let it affect you: the dragon that wraps around his bicep right to his forearm, the tense of his muscles, the addictive line of his jaw that trails all the way down to his collarbone—

you don’t notice your choice of words until geto uses that chance to fluster you instead.

“it’s just what?” he’s all up in your personal space like he was earlier before pulling away — a quiet, chilling tension that sends your hairs standing, left arm going behind your seat to park his car perfectly in the lot. his jawline is accentuated by how he turns behind to reverse (he hopes parking effortlessly would get you to like him more); suguru’s good at always making you want more, you realise that.

“cute.”

you’re mumbling and once he’s got the car in, his arm comes back round, a teasing hand pressed up to his ear. “what was that, hm?”

and maybe you were wrong to think he was being a decent person among the sneers and mockery of the crowd earlier, and you frown, thinking if you’d really want to entertain him. there’s a dilemma in you: what if he was just like the others, the loud, cocky ones who only ever cared about their cars? suguru looked just like the part, too, and if you weren’t careful, you’d probably end up being a trophy piece for him to bring around.

you just sigh. “thank you for driving me, geto-san.” it’s rigid as you say it, an inner turmoil within you; you hope it doesn’t show.

and he immediately regrets his silly question. he doesn’t blame you for standing your ground especially after the whole spectacle before the race started, watching in defeat as you slam the door to his Mazda a little harshly. hurriedly his eyes dart around the dashboard for paper, messily scribbling down an apology together with his number, along with some cash — he did promise to treat you to something in that cafe, but he was confident you’d want nothing to do with him; for now, anyway.

“hey, i’m uh— i’m sorry. it was out of line, enjoy the event, ’kay?” geto genuinely looked sorry, a sheepish smile spreading across his face and he hurries away before you can say anything. he’s lamenting over it upon returning, talking to gojo who could barely care and nanami who’s zoning out, about how you looked so innocent and stunning by simply sitting in his car.

and you? you’ve resorted to telling yourself how you’d only send a message to the mysterious number only after getting back home, after a shower, paper creased and unintelligible at some point that you almost typed in a ‘6’ in place of an ‘8’.

you’ve broken your own rule already once you’re stepping foot into your home because your finger immediately opens the empty chat, hovering over the button to send the message you’ve drafted two hours ago. your heart pounds and you feel dizzy — you never wanted to die so bad before.

suguru’s mood remains sour until later in the evening where an unknown number texts him with a faceless photo of a cup of cinnamoroll cappuccino and a crème brûlée with cinnamorll’s face on the caramelised sugar. he knows it’s you from the outfit you wore earlier and geto can’t help but smile, dwelling on what he could say to you that wouldn’t sound stupid.

god, geto was a racer. he was supposed to be cool and a natural at flirting, but he can’t believe he’s already deleted his drafted message for a fifth time, not noticing how you fluctuate between being online and off, too.

he doesn’t answer you like an idiot because while you’re nervous over the simple text, geto wants to tear his hair out — until he gets an idea; he’s off the bed in a minute, hastily grabbing his leather jacket and putting his hair into a bun.

eventually he manages to say something that sounds nonchalant.

[19:23, geto → UNKNOWN]: enjoy your cinnamoroll coffee?

suguru waits patiently when you type and stop, and type and stop, and he uses that time to sprint to his Mazda and to speed to a close-by 7-eleven. he was sure to find some sanrio merchandise in the store, face lighting up when he comes across a mediocre cinnamoroll keychain — and after a small battle with himself he also adds a duo berry and cherry keychain to the pile — he just needed to figure out when to give it to you.

a notification interrupts his daydreams.

[19:29, UNKNOWN → geto]: better without you here

he knows you’re joking with the way you send a sticker after.

[19:30, UNKNOWN → geto]: but thank you for the treat.

and for driving me

and for the number

geto chuckles, paying and leaving the store before he lets out a breath.

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: want to come out for a drive? i really want to apologise for earlier

and every doubt ceases to exist, your contemplation ending right there, head snapping to your clock to look at the time. if you could get dressed fast enough—

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: and also i just… want to get to know you

i’ll meet you at that same parking lot where we met. i’ll wait for you, okay?

—you could see the mysterious, brooding racer again. despite your outburst, you couldn’t deny the adrenaline you felt sitting in his car, bickering over which character was better, seeing the raise of his eyebrow on his attractive face. you don’t trust yourself to type anything else so you simply send a thumbs up emoji, jumping up to get ready in the darkening and freezing tokyo landscape.

shouting out an excuse, you bid goodbye to your parents and race out the door, white wisps of your hot breath appearing as you reach the car park in record time, seeing him nervously leaning against his Mazda. you smile. seems like you weren’t the only fidgety one.

“how’re you doin’?” geto clears his throat, but you just grin, getting into his passenger seat. the tips of your fingers tingle, you hoped the adrenaline would help you even a little.

“you called me out because you want to show off, right?” that loosens suguru a little, letting out a laugh at your unexpected comment.

“sure did.”

the next hours are spent speeding through the streets of shibuya, with you scared out of your mind at first. but when geto looks over to you with a blinding smile, you ease into his leather seats, slowly getting used to his sharp and precise turns.

geto is focused on drifting on specific turns, smile fading into a serious expression as he slams on the break and changes gear, steering the wheel sharply and you find yourself staring freely, a smile tugging on your lips at how so damn good he looked at the moment.

the night ends up with letting you try out the car for a bit, and even geto is surprised at himself because his RX-7 was something he cherished deeply, but to let someone try it was beyond him. he’s laughing with you, telling you that drift racers do not need to use turn signals and you burn in embarrassment, but other than that you have a good time, a quietness settling as he pulls up to your host home in japan.

“come to my next race?”

you bit your lip. you can’t lie, geto suguru is handsome as hell and you’re already hooked, unaware how the other wants you just as bad.

“sure thing, suguru.” the first name seems to catch him off-guard, even more so when you lean over the stick shift to peck his cheeks. 

geto spends the next five minutes touching the skin where you kissed it, the loud rev of his engine reflecting exactly how he felt.

geto suguru was a goner.

every text, every call, every outfit (by god, geto did not care about what he wore, until he got with you) was for you. geto suguru was the gentlest with you, always asking if you’re okay with whatever he does. a hand on your waist, a peck to your cheek. he eases into the relationship, a plethora of night races lined up in his roster since he didn’t want you to miss any classes. nor could you underperform, because if your grades weren’t up to standard, you’d be sent home — your actual home back in your country. it came easy, though, apart from the sneaky makeout sessions in between geto telling you you used ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ in your essays.

“y’know you don’t have to wear it, right?” geto laughs, placing a kiss to your temple while your mouth twists at the shape of the miniskirt, gifted to you by his sister who had worn it in the same scene, too. your boyfriend only whistles when you place it to your front, hands tightening just a little around your waist when he sees just how short it is.

“so?” you emerge from the bathroom a little while later, his oversized shirt on you looking a bit weird with the miniskirt but his breath hitches when you pull the top up, admiring the way the miniskirt hugged your figure so well. “i’m not sure if i like it, su…”

“that’s cause you’ll need other sort of tops, baby,” geto simply smiles, beckoning you over with a hand. it’s criminal how easily you follow the gesture, moving to stand between his legs. his rough hands leave hot trails of fire along your thighs, inching dangerously close to your ass. “you’ll need,” an unsatisfactory kiss on the denim of your skirt, suguru frowns, “a crop top,” a kiss to your hip bone. “or maybe a halter,” a kiss to your other hip bone, “a tube top,” a kiss to your stomach, “or maybe even a cami?” the grin geto gives you is sickening sweet as he lists them off one by one, each kiss getting closer and closer, from your hands to your shoulders, until they finally reach your face and your heart is beating like you were in fucking seven minutes in heaven.

“how’d you know so much?” you’re twiddling with the hem of his oversized shirt.

geto exhales, placing a sweet kiss onto your lips, “when you’ve been racing underground for quite a bit… it’s easy to pick up on the fashion. but—” he melts all your worries away when he takes your cheeks in his hands, “but even if you weren’t dolled up, i’ll still be lookin’ at ya. you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room.”

“my prettiest girl.” suguru mumbles, getting lost in your lips again with a promise he’ll take you shopping the next day.

you ease into the miniskirts soon enough. though you don’t exactly abandon your old style, you also love the freedom of wearing teeny skirts with skin tight tops, legs and ass on display for all to see while geto simply smiles no matter what you wear. he thinks you look stunning either way.

“what do you think?” geto asks inwardly if you were really the same person who loved cinnamoroll, legs on display and safety shorts hugging your ass so well as you twirl around in your room — geto wasn’t opposed to just panties, either; he knows he can throw a decent punch. you’re donning the piece of apparel so well that he feels himself getting hard.

“i think my baby looks gorgeous,” suguru smiles, sauntering up to you before wrapping his bigger arms around your middle before coating your face and neck with kisses but your mind’s wandering into the gutter with how you can see both your figures in the mirror. you’re thinking just what it’ll be like to fog up the mirror with your shaky breaths as geto rams into you from behind, but you snap out of it before he notices, turning around in his embrace to land a kiss to his lips.

“a good luck kiss for my racer boy,” you giggle, hands getting lost in his hair. you’ve become more bold too, geto realises and he decides that maybe tonight he’ll have you before you leave to finish your university semester and his heart clenches at the thought of you leaving — six months is six months, after all. having to resort to facetimes and timezones and late night messages is the reality, but he’s willing to try.

if it’s you, he’ll try.

one thing led to the next; it was your miniskirt riding up your legs, it was the way you ran up to him after he wins, jumping into his arms knowing these were your last few days together. just like how you were obsessed with geto suguru, he was besotted with you.

“is this okay with you, (y/n)?” the way he says your name has you wishing he would do it over and over in that pleading voice of his — it’s just the first of many.

“you’ll be taking my first, suguru.” you mumble out as his lips trail from your jaw to neck, and it makes him freeze. maybe you shouldn’t hav—

“you want me to be your first?” geto asks breathlessly, like he’s been told he won the lottery. he couldn’t believe how you’ve been untouched this whole time, yet your sultry gazes and untamed hips say otherwise.

“you’re such a little minx, teasing me and shit, but you haven’t lost your virginity?” his fingers caress your cheek and you preen at his tone, leaning into his touch. 

you hum and smile, “i never lose.” and you giggle when he laughs, capturing your lips in another kiss. the playful mood fades into the prior one, feeling the other get rougher with his kiss while his hands start to wander more.

“tell me to stop whenever and i’ll stop, okay, sweetheart?” you nod, squishing his face in your hands.

“i’ll be okay, su,” you grin before wrapping your legs around his pelvis, pulling him onto your needy cunt. he’s already hard, a dark spot forming at where his tip was. “i’ll be okay, especially when i fuck myself thinking it’s your cock.”

suguru’s jaw drops just a bit and he craves you even more by then, flipping up your skirt and pressing kisses along your thigh. he was determined to wipe the sick little grin off your face. he was determined to make you cum so hard you’d regret teasing him at all.

you hardly have any attitude for him once his tongue meets your pulsing clit and groans into your core, licking an experimental stripe up your folds. “better than your fingers?” suguru grins when he glances up and all he can see is your head thrown back, a subtle nod that’s got him back into feasting. he alternates between flicking your bud and sucking harshly, his calloused hands that you always admired around the steering wheel are now on your thighs, spreading them apart when you start to close them. by now your skirt’s soaked from how wet your pussy is, mewling and whining for your lover for more.

“you taste so fuckin’ good,” geto mumbles into your folds, giddy on the tangy sweetness of your juices that he has to reach down to squeeze his cock, “my girlfriend’s pussy tastes so good.”

“f-fuck… suguru don’t stop—” in the large bedroom, it’s filled with moans from you and the lewd sounds of your pussy, which escalate into a shriek when he’s suddenly pushing you up, weight transferred onto your shoulders and neck, not before making sure you have a pillow under you. “su—!”

“oh— ooh shit!” geto easily manhandles you as he props you up, your body bent uncomfortably while your hips continue to buck in his mouth and you aren’t sure where your legs go. it gives him better access to your cunt as he dips his tongue into your hole, nose nudging into your clit while you’re clutching onto his forearms for balance; his front supports you perfectly. geto’s onyx eyes bore into yours when he eats, moaning softly when he feels you clench around his tongue.

“you close?” he commits you to memory: how your toes curl and your stomach contracts. how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he feels so tense too, cock twitching in his underwear that it’s begging to be in you. “my baby’s g’nna cum, hm?”

“y-yes— ’m close mmf...” you can hardly manage a nod, moans escaping in between one worded sentences and you’re sure your legs are shaking from how good geto was giving it to you. with the hands that spread you out, one goes to your nipple to pinch it while the other plays with your clit, pressing and rubbing on it and a choked suguru leaves your lips.

“cum,” the one word has so much command over you, paired with the ministrations he was so skilled at that you’re clenching around air when you reach your high, euphoria crashing down on you with how you see white and your body feels tired already. “that’s my pretty girl, god, you’re cumming s’much.”

it takes awhile for you to come down from your orgasm, but despite your fatigue you already find yourself wanting more when you shoot geto a grin, heart fluttering at how he massages your thighs and bring you back down.

“you okay?” geto mumbles, pecking your knee softly, inwardly smiling at the way your legs still jolt and shake at your climax, “got my princess shakin’ and all.”

you giggle before you’re pulling him toward you, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss deepens, jumping a little when geto slips in a finger easily. you’re easily moaning into the kiss, reeling from just how one finger feels in you, slipping in so easily just how soaked your cunt was. 

gotta prep you for me, ‘kay? he whispers against your lips before a second goes in and you have to break the kiss to whimper. relax, baby, suguru’s voice is so intoxicating that you’re doing the exact opposite. you’re so tight that geto has to take a moment, imagining what you’ll feel like around him, but it’s not long before you’re begging for more that he starts moving his fingers into your cunt.

they are soft, gentle on you that you’re already tugging on his waistband, swallowing geto’s chuckle and comment about just how eager you are. in that bedroom, you’ve gotten him on his knees just by existing, pussy still drooling and your body contorted in such sensuality that he’s already worshipping you unconsciously. you gasp a little when he finally removes his underwear, eyes fixated on the pretty dick he’s got in his hand, leaking so much pre-cum just from eating you out. he makes quick work to grab a condom out from his bedside drawer.

“i’ll make it fit. gotta relax, yeah?” he hums into your skin before he rolls the condom over his cock as you watch, impatient. along with some lube, he smears your juices around with his tip, relishing in how you squeeze his forearms.

and when geto suguru sinks into you for the first time, tip nudging past your folds and stretching you out at first, a long whine leaves you just as geto groans out because you’re so warm inside that it’s got him dizzy. your eyes try to flutter close but geto mumbles that he wants to see how good he makes you feel, body hovering over yours like it’s forbidden. but he knows if he sinks into you with the feel of your tits on him, he wouldn’t last.

“s’big, suguru— ah!” eyes struggling to stay open, your arms hang around his neck, the feel of the rubber in you not entirely pleasant but suguru hitting all your spots is enough to make up for it. you’re just dripping and dripping non-stop that it leaks right down to the sheets before the other bottoms out in you, a teasing grin on his face. “told ya it could fit.” the stretch is borderline painful, and like a good boyfriend, he waits for a few to get you accustomed.

you roll your eyes with a soft smile, taking deep breaths before you feel like you could handle him, “move, please…”

“gettin' to it, my love,” geto’s cock is so big you swear you can feel him in your stomach, mouth dropping open when he moves slowly, grunting at your clamping hole, “i don’t think i can last long, baby.”

you breathlessly laugh, “yeah, me e-either.” your back arches off the bed as suguru starts to find a pace, thighs already burning from the taut pull of his muscles, something he’s done unconsciously because of how divine your cunt felt. with a hand you’re rubbing at your clit, evident it’s your first time when your hips are already bucking in mini shockwaves, sucking in his length that it’s not long before you’re moving your pelvis to meet his.

there’s the squelching noises of your pussy and little pants leaving you, pussy already convulsing around him with the release of the twist in your stomach. you’re clenching as you cum hard on his cock and it drives the other crazy, the tightness of your entrance that restricts his movement that he settles for short thrusts just to orgasm, spilling heavy loads of cum into the condom. geto groans into thin air, hips stuttering and pulling out incase there’s a rip in the rubber. it’s obvious you’re still unfamiliar with each other’s body in such an intimate setting, stuttered apologies and cleared throats, but soon geto’s leaning down to lock lips with you to quell the first-time awkwardness.

“was that okay? are you hurt anywhere?” you shake your head with a smile.

“that was more than okay, suguru,” you’re sleepy from the race, from the late night, and it’s clear all you want is sleep. it’s clear when you melt into suguru’s embrace and his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest when you find his hand to twine your fingers together, with his other one rubbing your thigh affectionately.

geto feels that same feeling paired with a certain dread when two weeks later you’re kissing him goodbye at the airport, pink luggage in hand while your nose starts to redden a little. you always know what to say, slowly getting used to geto’s habits. a huff when he’s annoyed, or a quick furrow of his eyebrows when he’s distraught. “it’s not the end of the world, baby.”

suguru only pouts, hands caressing your sides just outside the departure gate. “i know, i just— six months?” 

“you’ll survive,” you smile softly, brushing the bangs from his face, “you did it before me.”

“i know, but now that i’ve known you, you’re all i think about,” geto huffs, “i…”

there’s many more things he wants to say, how he’ll be sure to keep your things until you return, how thankful he is that you (willingly!) gave him an underwear of yours, how he struggles to breathe just seeing your name. he just hopes you’ll miss him just as much, but he restrains himself knowing your flight’s in an hour.

“you’re all i think about, too,” you mumble and swallow uncomfortably, ashamed to have tears already brimming at your eyes, “i’ll come right back after i finish the sem, alright?”

“i’ll hold you to that.” geto smiles, although it’s laced with a sadness, kissing you softly one last time and bearing himself for the countless texts and video calls to your foreign number. you both can taste the salt in your tears, sniffling like a lovesick fool at the immense feelings you have for this man.

love. you haven’t even said the words yet.

as the racer watches you pass through the departure doors, he gives one last glance to the cherry keychain hanging off your carry-on, giving a similar longing glance to the matching berry one on his bag.

geto leaves the airport before anyone can see the wetness in his eyes, too.

[siilvan]

physical touch

characters: kyle “gaz” garrick, johnny “soap” mactavish, john price, simon “ghost” riley, gary “roach” sanderson, yuri

summary: physical touch/affection headcanons!

genre: fluff, gn!reader (no desc. or pronouns)

warnings: none!

note: figured i’d start with something basic sweet after not writing in so long :) my next drafts are both soap – reboot and captain <3

gaz

⋆ so very touchy. even before you’re officially together, he’s always finding excuses to touch you.

⋆ comparing hand sizes, high-fives, patting you on the shoulder, playing with your fingers, nudging you with his leg, holding your waist while sliding past–

⋆ there’s nothing gaz won’t do to touch you, even if it’s just brushing your fingertips.

⋆ it gets even worse once you start dating. he is on you constantly. holding your hand, wrapping an arm around you, kissing you - he’s like a teenage boy in love!

⋆ shockingly, this side of him completely disappears when you’re in the field; he’s very cautious when it comes to affection, so as to avoid putting targets on your backs.

⋆ proud back/shoulder pats, friendly fist bumps, shoulders brushing past each other, nondescript praise, and barely visible smiles–

⋆ gaz utterly adores you, but only when your threats are complaints from the rest of the team.

⋆ a big enjoyer of cuddles, obviously. big spoon, little spoon, in bed, on the couch… he doesn’t care about the details, as long as he gets to be with you.

⋆ secretly so very weak for you sleeping on his chest. he just loves that feeling of protecting you and you trusting him to keep you safe.

soap

⋆ another touchy sergeant! i’m starting to sense a trend.

⋆ much like gaz, soap was touchy before you started dating. except, he wasn’t looking for excuses to touch you - he just went for it every single time.

⋆ bumping your foot with his, patting your shoulder, hugging you after long periods away from each other… soap had a reputation as a touchy guy, and with you he was no different.

⋆ in fact, he was even worse with you. soap was oblivious to his painfully obvious crush until someone pointed out his habit of touching you.

⋆ back hugs are a very common occurrence with him. also favors being the big spoon for the very same reason. "you’re like a teddy bear," he always claims when you point it out.

⋆ in the field, soap treats you no differently than the rest of the team. a few more compliments and brief touches here and there, but he’s capable of saving the pda for secure locations.

⋆ despite his reputation as a physically affectionate guy, he still gets a little embarrassed when someone calls him out for it!

⋆ turns red and tries to come up with an explanation every single time without fail. also never succeeds at said explanation, and ends up making himself even more embarrassed.

⋆ if it’s ghost calling him out, though… soap doesn’t get flustered over it. he simply does whatever he’s doing, but even more. prepare to be squeezed half to death if ghost ever catches you two.

price

⋆ his private and professional lives are like night and day.

⋆ at home and in private, price is quite the romantic. kissing your hands, wrapping his arms around your waist, laying his head on your shoulder - his goal is to make you melt from his affection.

⋆ at work, however… unless you two are completely alone, you’ll be getting the same treatment as the rest of the team.

⋆ it’s not that he doesn’t want to show you off. price is just a very private man, and for good reason. he’s got quite the list of enemies, many of whom would target you if they caught wind of you.

⋆ that being said, he more than makes up for it at home - he won’t let you end up neglected and starved for affection. the generous helping of praise that he casually gives you shows his love, as well.

⋆ when it comes to cuddling, it’s a moment-to-moment thing. price enjoys holding you and being held, but he’s a human furnace, so cuddles in hot weather are a no-go. he’ll still hold your hand or interlock your pinkies if you want him too, though.

⋆ usually is the big spoon. he needs to be free to act if something goes wrong, and free to protect you.

⋆ still, he turns into putty whenever he’s able to lay with his head on your chest. your fingers gently playing with his hair, listening to your heartbeat, with your warmth lulling him to sleep–

⋆ he’s got a tough exterior, but he’s really just a big softie that can seldom tell you "no."

ghost

⋆ it takes him quite some time to be open to physical affection, even after you’re officially a couple.

⋆ it’s not that he doesn’t want to be physically affectionate, ghost just struggles greatly with letting down his guard. patience and understanding is all he needs to start opening up.

⋆ definitely against pda of any kind. if you try to sneakily kiss him while around the team, he’ll gently remind you not to the next time you’re alone. he’s never unkind, just firmly set in his boundaries.

⋆ would probably be open to small acts once you’ve been together for a while - resting his hand atop yours, nudging your knee with his own, holding your shoulder, resting his arm on the back of your chair.

⋆ ghost is secretly starved for affection, so every little touch is significant to him. you can make his heart race just by brushing his arm with your fingertips.

⋆ at home, he’s extremely clingy. trying to leave bed? not happening, you’ve got a 6'3" teddy bear grabbing your shirt and dragging you back under the covers. morning cuddles are one of his favorite things, even if he’d die before admitting to it.

⋆ dozing off with his head on your shoulder while you cook, pulling you into his lap during movies, kissing you before he leaves and after he returns…

⋆ big or little spoon depending on his mood. much like price, ghost is constantly ready to act, even at home. however, he is so desperate for comfort and just needs to he held sometimes.

⋆ if you let him lay his head on your lap or chest, the ghost persona completely melts away. play with his hair, trace your fingertips along his jawline, leave sweet kisses wherever you can, and the "scary" man suddenly becomes softer than silk.

roach

⋆ decently physically affectionate, but doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

⋆ roach is all about the smaller, more casual acts of affection. forehead kisses, hugs, sitting next to each other, holding hands– he’s all about the moments that people would consider less significant.

⋆ still, there is one thing that never fails to make his heart flutter: when you kiss him through his mask.

⋆ whether it’s a peck on the cheek or your lips against his, if you kiss his mask, he’ll turn into a stuttering mess. he hopes you can’t somehow see the blush practically burning holes through the fabric.

⋆ proud little spoon! no matter where you are, roach will gladly fall asleep wrapped up in your arms. his favorite way to nap is with his head on your lap - if you try to move, you’ll end up with a very whiny and clingy sergeant.

⋆ has a habit of falling asleep on you after particularly draining missions. it’s not his fault, really; the rumble of the helicopter’s engine, the adrenaline wearing off, and your presence are a deadly trio.

⋆ if you fall asleep, too, he won’t wake you up. unless you need medical attention or something important, he’ll just carry you back to your room and tuck you into bed. usually joins you, as well.

⋆ these mid-flight naps also happened before you two got together. roach has an entire album on his phone of photos (mostly taken by soap) of you two cuddling after missions.

⋆ finally decided to ask you out after the album reached 100 photos. the rest of the team knew it would happen eventually.

yuri

⋆ much like ghost, it took yuri quite some time to open up to physical affection.

⋆ in fact, he wouldn’t open up to affection at first. even when it could reasonably be seen as platonic and nothing more. he didn’t think he deserved it, be it from friend or lover.

⋆ you finally got him to crack one day, after a tough mission that ended in quite a few (minor) injuries. his back was killing him, so you offered him a massage. despite his reservations, he accepted it.

⋆ yuri didn’t expect to completely melt at your touch. by the end of the massage, his tense muscles were relaxed and he was hungry for more. touch-starved doesn’t even begin to describe how he felt.

⋆ at the beginning of your relationship, he struggled to give and accept affection. it takes a lot of patience and love to build up his confidence, but it’s well worth the effort once he finally starts to reciprocate.

⋆ big fan of back hugs, both in giving and receiving. to him, there’s just something so intimate in holding your partner while they work.

⋆ has a few habits once he’s comfortable in your relationship - interlocking your fingers, resting his hands on your lower back and hips, kissing your forehead… he’d never admit to it publicly, but he’s quite the romantic.

⋆ usually favors being the big spoon whenever you two cuddle. yuri is reasonably paranoid about your safety and his own, so he prefers to be free to move if necessary. knowing that you’re safe in his arms helps him sleep easier, as well.

⋆ that being said, he will fall asleep on your chest if given the chance. the sound of your heartbeat and your fingertips running up and down his back never fails to put him to sleep.

[gayerthanevertbh]

quiet, little one.

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader  

n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist  

summary: your boyfriend was blipped and you had been living alone with natasha romanoff for five years, until she made a move on you that you could never oppose. 

warnings: rough sex, g!p natasha, dirty talking, daddy kink, face slapping, pet names, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cheating, natasha being a little pervert, dark!natasha, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.

author’s note: i liked this very much

"Bad day?"

Natasha looked over her shoulder, taken aback that you were awake at this hour. She gave you a long look and a shrug before returning to her coffee and pouring herself a cup.

"You're wide awake."

"I haven't really slept," you admitted sheepishly as you wrapped your cardigan around yourself even closer; her presence kills you. You're not sure if you want to stay up with her or not, yet being with her makes you feel better. This is beyond explanation. "You should be sleeping; you've been awake for two days."

"I'll be fine," she muttered, licking her dry chapped lips as she looked at you with heavy bags under her eyes. "You should get some rest, my dear. Do you have any classes tomorrow?"

You shook your head.

"Peter isn't around anymore," you said quietly. "What's the point of going back to class?"

You've lost loved ones, including Natasha's, since the blipped occurred. Except for some of the Avenger's, including Natasha, you have no idea who else is left on this planet. You've been living in this compound for quite some time now, because when you returned to your house, everyone had vanished. Washed away. I wiped it away. The older woman gently comforted you, letting you know she was there.

She has been for the past five years.

"It's your last year, why waste it?" she remarked, approaching you and brushing some of your hair away from your face. "Can't waste a pretty face like that, Kotenok."

"I still don't know what kotenok means," you chuckled quietly, attempting to hide your face, but she held you still with her chilly fingers on your cheek. She looks down at you, expecting that you'll return her gaze, but you can't. You'd fall in love with her if you did. You've been battling it. "Would you mind telling me what it means?"

Natasha responds by shaking her head and pecking your brow with her wet lips.

For a brief moment, you could feel your heart halt.

"Never," she says as she strokes your cheek with her thumb. "Get some rest, little girl. I'll see you later."

the night, you tried to sleep, wondering what the term meant. Was she making a move on you? That's ludicrous; she'd never flirt with someone like you. You're too young for her, and she probably wasn't interested in you. You also have a boyfriend who was presumably wondering where you were as well. So you and her would never get along, not in a million years.

The next morning, you were awakened by the sound of thunder outside. It was time to brew some coffee, perhaps even pour a cup for the old Romanoff. As you stepped outside, you noticed Natasha asleep on the office chair with her feet on the table. You smiled to yourself, knowing that she had finally listened to you. So, while she was sleeping, you made her a cup of coffee and microwaved it while you poured yourself one. You leant against the counter, sipping your mug and watching the rain fall heavily.

"You're awake," you said as you turned over your shoulder to hear her groaning in her sleep. You responded with a smile. "Good morning, sweet girl."

"Your nicknames are getting out of hand," you joked as you handed her a cup, which she gratefully took with a tired smile. "How was your sleep?"

"Somehow better, but not always good."

"At least you got some rest before getting back to work."

"Kind of wondering if I should take a break," she said as she turned off her computer and rose up, kissing your forehead as if it were natural. "Maybe you and I could spend some alone time together."

You laughed. "Define being alone together?"

While taking a sip from her cup, she stared at you with those dark emerald eyes, giving you that flirty, deep look that made your tummy flutter. As she sighs heavily through her mouth, the woman presses her hand against your left cheek, massaging it with her finger. If you had to confess it, you hoped she could touch you in ways other than friendly ones. But the moment she kissed your jaw and then your nose, all of your thoughts vanished.

"I..." her worlds trailed off, gulping as if she was committing a sin. "I'm in love with you."

“What–”

"Please don't be upset," she begged, her voice quivering. "I-I know you have a boyfriend, and I shouldn't even like you. But, God, you've been with me for five years now. How could I resist making a move on you?"

"You don't know what you're saying," you said, but largely you liked this confession. You would never have guessed that someone so ancient could be in love with you all these years. Why waste this opportunity?

"Tash, you're probably just tired."

"I'm not," she swiftly disagrees and shakes her head, framing you against the table with those deep blue eyes. "I'm seeking you, Y/n. I've always wanted you. Don't you want me as well, baby?"

You have no idea how much I love you.

"Maybe you should get some more sleep-"

She kisses your lips quickly before pulling away and pressing her forehead against yours. "I love you," she says again, unafraid of what she was saying to you. "I've loved you since the first time I met you. I-I couldn't approach you since Peter was your lover, and if I did, you would not like me as much-"

"Hey, hey," you interrupted her off, clutching her face and kissing her so passionately that you couldn't stand to explain yourself. "Shh, don't say anything. It's all right, Natasha. It's okay, I love you as well."

"Y-you do?" She whimpers, suddenly clutching you in her arms, her hands seizing the back of your waist, crushing her body into yours. "You're in love with me?"

"I'm in love with you."

"You promise?"

You nodded, licking your own lips as you succumbed completely to her. You had to notice that you had been in love with her all along.

"I promise."

Natasha removed your pantyhose as she kissed you passionately into her mouth, feeling every inch of your flesh as if she were about to lose you. You let her take off your clothes, even your hands. She stopped you as soon as you reached for the hem of her boxers.

"I'm big," Natasha says as she kisses your jaw and grabs your wrist to feel her hardening cock in her underwear. "Can you take it?"

"I can," you said firmly as she pushed you back into her bed, spreading your legs with her knees and urgently kissing your chest as the rain fell heavier from the sky. You admire her strong beauty as you push some of her hair away from her face. "You're really beautiful, Tash."

"You're beautiful too," she says as she carefully pulls down her boxers and her cock springs fully erect in the air, a drip of pre-cum visible from the slit of her cock. You grinned shyly as you curled your hand over her length, prompting her to groan. "Jesus, baby... your hand is so small next to my big dick."

You stared down at her appendage, observing how large she was in your grasp. You could feel her veins all around her cock, and your touch turned her tip crimson. She jerked onto your palm as you brought your hand all the way down to the base of her penis, then back up to her tip and squeezed it. She pauses your movement and pecks your lip, chuckling as more pre-cum dribbles in your hand.

"You get me hard whenever I see you," she admits, placing her hand on your left breast and gently squeezing it. "You're too young to notice it. I've always desired and needed you... Unfortunately, I assumed you didn't want me back."

"I-I really wanted you back," you said. "I just... I had a boyfriend back then, Tash."

"You're so adorable, it's almost sinful to be this cute," she chuckles deeply above you, bringing her thumb down to your clit, pressing it hard as you moan out. "You're right, good fucking girl. Do you enjoy it, honey? Do you like it when Daddy rubs your clitty?"

You desperately nodded as you arched your back, her fingers spreading your wet folds as you pumped on her cock repeatedly. She places your hand on top of your head and clutches her penis, putting the tip against your clitoris and letting out a deep groan as she tries not to hump herself against you. "Oh fuck, I've wanted this for ages, little girl. Daddy was thinking about you all the time, all the fucking time..."

Natasha has had a crush on you for 5 years. You were at least 17 or 18 at the time, and it felt improper for her to have feelings for a young girl. You were also not single at the time. So she didn't get her opportunities, which made her feel terrible. She tried jerking herself off every night at the thought of you, but she got weary of it and moved on to fucking fleshlights and your panties, which she was fortunate enough to acquire. Of course, she'd never tell you that. You were too young and too innocent. And now that you're 23, it doesn't feel as wrong as before.

"You make me crazy," Natasha spits onto her cock and spreads the moist tip around your cunt, her hips bucking each time it hits your hole. "You make me want to slip into you this fast; you're so tight..."

You hadn't had sex in a long time, so you knew this would be excruciatingly painful. But you didn't mind the pain; in fact, you craved it. She looks at you and smiles as her massive cock tries to get inside your pussy, prompting you to scream. "You are free to scream all you want, tiny girl. Nobody is going to listen to us anyway."

"N-not even Steve?" says the narrator. You groaned as you examined your genitalia, discovering the tip of her cock inside of you. You moaned at how long and large she was, almost expecting her to fuck you dry. "D-Daddy, I think you're a little too big for me."

"It'll fit," she assures you with a smile, her cheeks quivering as her cock slowly slips into you. "You're very tight for me, Kotenok. I can't even push in..."

"We might need some lube first-"

"It'll ruin the feeling," she says as she pulls your waist down onto the mattress. You put your arms around her neck, attempting to alleviate the pain as pleasure surged through your veins. "It's all right, darling. Daddy is nearly there; just lie still for me."

Natasha finally enters you after 5 minutes, moaning at the sensation of your wetness coating her cock. She sighs into your neck, holding you down while attempting not to have an orgasm from this sensation. She hadn't moved in too long, so she wanted to enjoy every second of it. You cupped her face as you kissed her passionately, your tongue entering her mouth. You two fought for control, but she eventually triumphed and made out with you as her cock was deep in your cunt.

"You like this?" she murmured after a few moments of silence, pulling out a tiny bit before slowly thrusting into you. You whimpered at the tightening of your walls, finally letting go of her thickness. "You're going to make me blow soon, fuck..."

She slides her lips across your mouth, kissing the corner of it as she continues to drive into you hard, causing the bed to shake. She didn't care whether anyone heard you two, or if Steve happened to walk by and see you having sex with his closest friend. "Tell me you want this too," she begged, her breath ragged, in a state of euphoria when she actually believes you want her as much as she wanted you. "T-Tell Daddy that."

"I've wanted this," you said, rolling your eyes at the back of your head, your skin brushing up against hers as she fucked you into her bed, her ass tightening each time her tip poked against your cervix. "Oh my God, Daddy-it feels so good!"

"It certainly does, doesn't it?" She chuckles darkly and lifts both of your hips, forcing them against your chest as she moves farther into you, slush from your cunt filling the air. "Fuck, this is too small for me." My tiny beautiful slut is a little too small for me, huh? You're my good girl, baby? You're my good girl..."

"I'm always your good girl," you said quickly, as you could feel your own orgasm approaching, watching the windows fog up from the heated sex. "Daddy, you're pushing yourself too hard!"

"So wet for me," she whimpers again, sliding her hips into you as she thrusts into your spongy walls, her legs quivering with each g-spot she hits. She sobs into your neck, her calloused fingers firmly holding your breast. "You're lovely to Daddy, so adorable. Aren't you my baby, my little girl? Oh fuck, you're Daddy's little girl..."

She stares down at her cock easily slipping inside of you, watching your cunt clenching around her thick length. The woman groans at the sight, wondering if she could ever cum within your pussy if given the opportunity. Unfortunately, she was unable to. She didn't want to take the chance of you getting pregnant, and she was too lazy to check if you were on the pill, so she humped you hard into the mattress, the bed harshly creaking inside its walls.

Natasha elevates herself a little and presses your breasts together, her cock sloshing inside of you as she jackhammers into your pussy. She shudders as her eyes flutter shut at the sight of your breasts pushed together, wondering whether she could ever fit her cock between those lovely titties. You moaned at the sensation, especially her cock breaching your walls as if by design.

"Good fucking girl," she murmurs above you, locking your arms over your head as she bottoms into you, enthusiastically humping you. "-You're all mine, such a good fucking little girl. Okay? It's all mine, sweetheart. You're Daddy's little girl."

I'll always be your girl, Daddy.

"Your pussy was made for my cock," Natasha growls as she spits into your lips and orders you to swallow her thick wad. "Peter's cock couldn't fill you up; only I can. Do you understand, slut?"

“Daddy–”

"Little girls like you should love my fat cock," she says to you, groaning every time your wet skins touch. The woman glances down at her cock once more, observing your creamy white juice coating her penis. "You're covering my small patch, dear. You're going to make me cum-I'm going to cum so deep inside of you-"

“No!” You tried to shove her chest away, but it was futile. Your toes curled into the bed as you screamed, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! I'm cumming–Oh God, don't stop!"

"Never will, baby," she says fiercely, her hips snapping onto yours as she can't slide herself into you any longer, noticing you clenching around her cock. She breathes, slowly pumping herself out with a whine. "Sit up, little one. Let Daddy cum in your mouth."

"W-Will it taste good?" You questioned, sitting up till her thighs were hovering on each side of your face, with a post-orgasm. “Daddy–”

"It will, baby," she promises as she slaps her cockhead against your wet lips, pushing your head back to suck on her meat. "Try my dick, baby. You like that, don't you? Do you enjoy having Daddy's big dick in your mouth?"

You hummed in response as you tried sucking the majority of her length, but it didn't work. Natasha, of course, had a solution for everything. She continued to crush your head onto her cock until you cried out in pain. She was too large for your mouth, but she wouldn't let you leave.

"Shh," she strokes your tears away, humping your face excitedly as she recalls your small pussy. She wanted to be inside your womb so badly. "I love your tiny throat; you're making Daddy want to shove her dick deep into your mouth..."

She removes the tip of her tongue from your throat, teasingly bringing it to your lips as she slaps you across the face, crying in pain. But she didn't care; she just wanted to dumb you down for her. She wanted you to forget about Peter, to forget about the two of you. You were her property, hers alone to seize.

"Gonna cum on your tongue," she says as she jerks herself off, bringing her hand all the way to the bottom and back up, holding your head close. "That's all, good girl... suck up all my cum-fuck! Here we go... here comes Daddy-"

She spews her sperm all over your mouth, her hips clenching with each unloading of her sperm all over your face. She thought she'd come to an end there, but more poured out of her slit, bathing your mouth with her thick white cum. She pulls you back into the mattress as she opens your legs, slapping her thick cockhead onto your clit and spurting a few more sperm onto your pussy, letting out a heavy sigh when she was finished with you.

"Oh god," she breathes as she lays down by your side, her penis deflating with a happy orgasm that causes her to smile. "That felt incredible, little angel. I can't wait to do that again later because you made Daddy so happy with your mouth."

"L-Later?" you whispered quietly, picturing Natasha could do things with you that you had never imagined before. She smiles and nods, drawing your body closer to her as she gives you a deep kiss on the lips, moaning at the taste of her cum on your tongue.

"Daddy loves you so much," she says softly as she slides her flaccid cock into you with a lengthy groan. "Please just let me use you, okay? Allow Daddy to be buried in your tight warm pussy, just lie still for me."

You were her cock slut that day.

hahahahahaha

[stellamancer]

obligatory (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: haha. the valentine's fic. it's funny i still have to post halloween fic. maybe i'll finish this week since i'm off work. uh anyway, for those who say my posts, i'm kind of hesitant to post this for two reasons: 1) it's removed from context— like you can still get a feel of what is going on, but there's no explanation as for why and 2) due to reason 1 it's tonally different than usual, at least according to my beta reader. my eternal gratitude goes to @momodita who helped me workshop this fic and continues to demand i write more gojo fics despite denying being a gojo fucker.

contains: implied f!reader (no pronouns), the return of gojo's pov (a little less whacky this time lmao), jealous gojo (because those who know me know i can't get enough), light angst or whatever the hell is going on there. additionally, for those who don't know giri choco is chocolate you give out of obligation to your coworkers and honmei choco is chocolate you give to someone you have romantic feelings for. part of the infinite loop verse.

wc: 1.8k

“Here you go.”

Satoru graciously accepts Shoko’s offering: a thin, delicately wrapped box of Valentine’s Day chocolate. Naturally, it's giri choco; Satoru is well aware that Shoko would be caught dead before even thinking about giving Satoru honmei choco. That said, it looks like she's given more thought to her gift this year— the last few years she's just handed him a gourmet chocolate bar from some high end chocolatier. Actually, the last time she'd given him something wrapped up like this was…

“There better not be any liquor in this,” Satoru says in a petulant tone reminiscent of his high school days.

Shoko merely laughs. “As if I'd waste something like that on you.”

There's no way she’s forgotten how sick Satoru got the one time she did give him liquor filled chocolates. Not only had it made him sick to his stomach, it'd given him the worst headache of his entire life. If it were up to Satoru, liquor filled chocolates wouldn't even exist. “Welllll, thanks for the chocolate. I'll be sure to get you something good next month.”

Shoko gives him a relaxed smile. “Looking forward to it, Gojo.”

Knowing Shoko, she'll want liquor as usual. Maybe the same bottle of shochu that he got last year? She liked that, but then again, the same gift twice would be boring and Satoru is not about that. Whatever it is will be a little pricey, but Satoru doesn't mind it one bit— anything for one of his oldest friends.

Having given Satoru her yearly offering of chocolate, Shoko shoos him away so she can actually get to work. Satoru considers ambling around for another hour or two, but Ijichi will probably have a heart attack if he delays his mission briefing any longer. The sooner he does it the better, he guesses. Satoru starts sauntering toward the assistant managers’ office to find Ijichi, pulling at the ribbon on the box he received from Shoko as he goes. Inside are two rows of perfectly round chocolate truffles and Satoru picks one at random and pops it into his mouth. It's filled with a sweet raspberry cream that practically melts on his tongue. Shoko really went all out this year, but no matter how good these are they'd never match up to anything homemade.

Though, when he thinks about it, Satoru supposes he won't be getting anything like that this year.

When he gets to the assistant managers’ office he easily finds Ijichi, who, for once, is not bent over a mountain of paperwork, and with him is—

You.

Handing Ijichi a box of chocolates.

For some reason, Satoru suddenly feels very, very annoyed.

“Well, well, well,” he says, the volume of his voice louder than intended, but he doesn't care. “What do we have here?”

Ijichi whirls around and lets out a squeak, his face red as can be. He starts to blubber and it almost feels like Satoru's caught him in the middle of something more illicit than receiving chocolates. If Satoru weren't feeling so annoyed, he'd find the whole sight rather funny.

You, on the other hand, are far calmer, indifferent even, as a slight frown mars your features. Something about it makes Satoru's blood burn hot.

“Did I just interrupt a heartfelt love confession?” Satoru asks dryly and Ijichi starts to freak out even more, and while Satoru notices the slightest twitch of your eye, you remain impassive.

“I hope you like the chocolates,” you tell Ijichi, outright ignoring Satoru and somehow that makes Satoru's blood run even hotter. “I kept in mind what you said about last year's so they're not as sweet.”

“Thank you!” Ijichi squeals and you give the man a sympathetic smile before you head toward the door where Satoru's standing. He knows he's blocking the way, but he doesn't move.

Will you say something to him?

You don't.

Instead, you keep your head down and squeeze past him. Or try to. You brush against his side and Satoru doesn't miss the way your body jolts when you make physical contact with him. But it only lasts a second, and when that second ends, Satoru tries to ignore the feeling of bitterness rapidly spreading throughout his chest.

He means to say something, anything to you, but the words get caught in his throat.

By the time they free themselves, you're already gone.

Satoru sighs and saunters over to Ijichi, who's been taking deep breaths to calm down after Satoru's little bout of teasing. He leans against one of the desks and crosses his arms. “So, you had a mission for me?”

“Right! Yes!” Ijichi squeaks again and takes a deep breath before he starts to explain. Satoru only half listens to the briefing, his attention more focused on the little box sitting on Ijichi’s desk. The mere sight of it spurs a complicated set of feelings. He doesn't understand. You've been giving Ijichi chocolates every Valentine's ever since you moved to Tokyo and it's never bothered him before so why now?

“Um, Gojo?”

“What?” Satoru almost snaps.

Ijichi doesn't answer right away, instead he clears his throat and then says. “It's giri choco.”

Satoru scowls. Of course it is. It's not like you'd give Ijichi honmei choco. You don't see him like that. “I know that.”

Ijichi swallows thickly. Nervously. “Just making sure.”

Then he falls silent, the air between them now terribly awkward.

“...do you want some?” Ijichi asks.

“It's your chocolate.”

“I don't mind sharing,” Ijichi says, reaching over and opening the box to reveal your homemade chocolates. They're nowhere near as perfectly round as the ones Shoko bought for Satoru, but he can tell you put effort into making sure they looked presentable. “Help yourself.”

Even Satoru isn't terrible enough to steal an entire box of chocolates meant for another man, but he does grab the nicest looking one and tosses it into his mouth.

It's bitter; a mix of dark chocolate and black coffee that's not only completely unpalatable to Satoru, but disturbingly reminiscent of the bitter feeling that's now threatening to eat him whole. He almost wants to spit it out.

But he doesn't.

Satoru swallows it all.

The mission is uneventful, absurdly easy even, though Satoru took a little longer than he needed to by toying with the curses a little prior to exorcising them. Some would consider it a touch cruel, but Satoru doesn't care. Anything to rid himself of that pesky feeling from earlier.

If it were up to him, he would have headed straight home afterwards, but Yaga had asked him to come back and do some paperwork. Satoru had tried to reason with him, tell him he'd just do it tomorrow but the principal was insistent.

Satoru trudges to his office and throws open the door. Inside, someone lets out a surprised yelp.

It’s you.

Again.

Both you and Satoru stare at each other in surprise. Given that you've been avoiding both him and this entire corridor like the plague for the past two months, you're the last person he’d expect to find in his office, hovering over his desk. And yet…

You look away from Satoru, your expression awkward. This isn't like your encounter in the assistant manager's office earlier; you can't just walk out of his office without an explanation of why you're there.

Well, you can try, but it's not like Satoru will let you.

“Weren’t you supposed to be out on an assignment?” you finally ask. Satoru thinks you mean to sound annoyed, but your tone is watered down.

“I was, but it was so easy I could have done it blindfolded.”

Normally, you'd just roll your eyes or snap back about how he's a show off or his jokes are shit, but you remain quiet. He shouldn't be surprised, but it still makes him feel weird. Almost sad. Almost empty.

“Principal Yaga asked me to leave some paperwork on your desk,” you say, sounding uncharacteristically meek.

Satoru frowns a little. Yaga, huh? He never pegged him as a meddler. Satoru approaches the desk to look at the paperwork in question; he grimaces— it's a whole freaking stack.

You start to shuffle away from Satoru and toward the door as Satoru flips through all the papers. “Anyway, if you'll excuse me—”

“Wait a sec.” Satoru says and you glance back at him in confusion. There's something peeking out from under the stack of papers. Satoru gingerly fishes it out, revealing a familiar looking box. He holds it up and adds, “Did you leave this too?”

A myriad of varying emotions flashes across your face before you settle on an awkward sort of embarrassment. “I… did.”

It's weird. Satoru didn't expect you to be so straightforward given that under normal circumstances you always choose to be as obstinate as possible. Which Satoru doesn't mind in the slightest; it makes things exciting. There are few things more fun than prying the truth out of you with whatever means necessary. Answering him so readily like this… almost feels wrong.

“I accidentally made too much,” you explain.

Satoru stares at you. It’s not an excuse, not a lie. Honestly, adjusting the amounts to account for one less person probably slipped your mind until it was too late. You could have done anything with the extra chocolate, given more to each person, eaten it for yourself, but instead…

You still chose to give it to him.

Satoru tries to ignore the strange feeling stirring in his chest.

“Anyway, eat it if you want, toss it if you don’t,” you add, almost hurriedly as you move closer to the door. You give a quick bow to excuse yourself and before Satoru can say anything else, you run off.

His eyes remain glued to the empty doorway where you were just standing for a second before looking back at the box of chocolates you left for him. Carefully, he unties the ribbon and pulls off the lid. Just like Ijichi’s chocolates, the ones in his box aren’t perfect, but something about them looks nicer than the ones Ijichi got. Satoru wonders if you consciously put in a little more effort when you’d realized you had extra. The thought makes him chuckle a little.

He delicately plucks one from the box and pops it into his mouth. It’s sweet, infused with a hint of strawberry and vanilla that makes Satoru crave even more. As soon as he’s done with the first he shoves another into his mouth, and then another. With each chocolate he eats, the painful feeling in his chest grows, but he ignores it.

Before he knows it, the chocolates are all gone. Satoru licks his lips, hoping for one last taste of that strawberry vanilla sweetness only to find nothing. All he has left is the empty box and an aching heart.

if you read this whole thing, thank you and i hope you enjoyed it.

also yes, shoko got chocolates (tomo choco) too. they were similar to ijichi's, but with liquor instead of coffee.

[celestiababie]

svt reaction to accidentally overstimulating you until you squirt

love ur stuff btw!

A/N: I'm going to assume that you meant this for svt since I pretty much only write for them at this point. If not, please send another specifying who it was for and I'll redo it. I didn't really edit this, so I'm sorry if it's shit. ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoy it!!! Feedback is appreciated!

Seungcheol: He'd instantly want to make you squirt again, but you'd make sure you had a breather before how tries again. Lowkey becomes obsessed with pushing you to your limits.

"Fuck Y/n, you're making such a mess for me, baby."

Jeonghan: Honestly, it would surprise him more than he'd care to admit. He was just focused on finger fucking you and didn't think he was doing anything extraordinary, but similar to Seungcheol...he'd want to see if you could do it again. Might become a menace in the process.

"You can do it again, right, angel? C'mon, give it to me." Ugh I can see the smirk on his face already.

Joshua: He'd honestly take a moment to process what just happened but would be so sweet if you got embarrassed because of what happened. He'd ask if it was too much and offer to change the sheets for you while you take a bath. But don't be fooled by his sweet response because he'd definitely bring it up again in innuendos and tease you for it in the future.

Jun: He isn't quite sure how it happened, but he seems like the kind of guy that would be into it already? But he just wouldn't mention it to you or try anything in particular to get you to squirt. But now that he knows it's possible...he'd ask to see if he can make you do it again.

Soonyoung: Gets really giddy over what just happened. So much so that he doesn't fully realize how spent you are and once he calms down a bit, he'd be rushing to give you the best aftercare in the entire world. Would be cuddling you and then all of a sudden ask you questions about it.

"Did you feel good?"

"It felt good, right?"

"We can do it again if you want."

Wonwoo: This man already researched and has the knowledge stored away in his brain somewhere. But, he would never intentionally try, he was just so lost in the look on your face and how much you were moaning that he wouldn't realize he was subconsciously doing those things he read about. If you were confused or embarrassed, he'd give you a brief (unnecessary) explanation as to why that happened. He'd be really into it and want to see if all the other methods he read about worked just as well.

Jihoon: Will write a song about wanting to drown in your love with the most innuendos you've ever seen. I'm kidding, mostly. No but in all seriousness, it would trigger a cockiness in him that would be so fucking attractive. Ugh whenever he felt like getting an ego boost from now on he'd just roll up his sleeves and finger fuck you until you're screaming his name and drenching his fingers.

Dokyeom: I see him as someone who's normally sweet and very intimate during bed so he would be so entranced in the feeling that he wouldn't realize he was overstimulating you until he felt an unfamiliar pressure around his cock that would force him to pull out and thus causing you to squirt. Man would be silent, wide eyed in SHOCK, but still so turned on and desperate to cum for you that he'd ask if you wanted to keep going.

Mingyu: He's very eager to please and often gets lost in the undeniably incredible feeling of making his favorite person feel good so I'm not surprised he overstimulates you fairly often. But when he makes you squirt for the first time, it would trigger the curious experimentalist in him. After you fall asleep (after much needed aftercare) he would be on his phone all night to look up more ways to make you squirt and tell you all about his findings in the morning with the most excited look on his face.

Minghao: I think he's very in tune with his body as well as his lover's body so I find it surprising if he accidentally overstimulated you...he's too aware for that...but he would caress your body after making you squirt, trying to calm your body and bring you back down to earth with him. He'd give you all the time you needed to stop shaking from the aftershocks of pleasure, whispering loving and soothing words throughout the entire time. I feel like he'd really be into observing what his partner looks like when they cum and after they cum.

Seungkwan: Tries to be nonchalant and act like what just happened didn't boost his ego massively but you could see him literally grinning to himself as he cleaned the sheets. Will definitely want to make you do it again another time but is slightly nervous he just got very lucky and won't be able to move his fingers the same way.

Vernon: "Oh wow." That's it. Kidding (not really) This man would be so frozen just staring at the mess while you tried to calm down. You'd finally noticed him staring and if you started apologizing it would immediately break him out of whatever spell he was under and he'd reassure you that he found it hot...like really hot. Kind of a new fetish for him.

Chan: Becomes an annoying menace who thinks he's a sex god, but it's okay because he's really hot when he's confident and feeling himself. Would tease you for it in the future and probably bring it up when you're being intimate.

"Wait, should we lay down a towel? You made such a mess last time, babe."

A fairly reasonable question, but the smirk he'd have on his face would reveal his true intentions.

[heavenlyvision]

I heard requests are open 👀 if not too much of a problem could I request Bi-Han getting his injuries attended to by us? Idc if it has smut or not

This fic is a shorter one and I hope you don't mind !!! I also didn't add any smut in this and left it with a softer tone. Thank you for your request and hopefully you enjoy <33

Injured

Wc: 1.4k

Pairing: Bi-Han x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injury, mentions of violence, brief mention of creepy man from work, otherwise I think that’s all !!

A noise wakes you from your slumber, it sounds like the clattering of your belongings being knocked around. Shooting up straight in bed you reach for the staff you keep close by and carefully wander into the kitchen where the intruder is still making noises. You swear to God, if someone is robbing you right now, you’re gonna be pissed. The night you’ve had at work was hell and whoever you are about to come face to face with is going to be on the receiving end of your rage.

In the dark, you sneak up behind them and go to attack, they evade you easily and take your staff from you. Making a quick decision you kick them in the shin and the intruder grunts in pain in response.

You’d continue attacking but you realise you recognise that grunt, letting out a breath you check, “Bi-Han?”

“What?” He sounds annoyed at you.

You sigh a breath of relief and walk across the room to flick on the light, finally getting a good look at him.

“Why?” Is all you ask, completely flabbergasted by his presence.

He’s holding your staff and leaning against it, he doesn’t look well, he looks… tired.

“Are you okay,” you ask.

“I am fine.”

“You don’t look fine, you look… unwell,” you comment.

“Mean,” comes his one-word reply.

Looking over him you become suspicious, “Why did you break into my house?”

He looks offended, “I did not break anything.”

Giving him a very pointed look, you say, “Bi-Han, an explanation, now.”

“Got stabbed a little, you were close,” his voice is gruff.

“You got stabbed?!” You startle.

He grunts, “A little.”

“Oh my God, I am so sick of you, go sit down,” you point over to your dining room chairs, exasperated with him.

Lately, he’s been reckless, and is getting injured in the fights that you think he’s actively looking for. This is the first time he’s come to you though, normally you only find out when he winces after moving a certain way or when you brush up against him.

He was digging around in your kitchen for your first aid kit, you locate it and find yourself annoyed by the mess he’s made scavenging through your stuff.

Walking up to his sitting form, you ask, “Where?”

“Shoulder,” he says, not looking at you.

Your eyes glance to his shoulder, there isn’t any blood on his front which means he got stabbed in the back.

“Off,” you direct.

“Bossy,” he retorts.

You scowl at him, “Don’t start with me Bi-Han, I already had a shit night and then I find my friend messing up my kitchen, stabbed.” His expression is unchanging, “What is your problem lately anyways, are you purposefully trying to get hurt, or are you off your game?” You huff at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Not doing anything different.” He carefully pulls all his upper layers off, turning to the side so you can help with his wound.

You think distantly that he probably wasn’t closer to you but instead didn’t want to tell anyone else about his injury. It’s out of reach for him and he’d need someone to help with this, you feel a little less angry at him when you realise he chose to come to you rather than anyone else.

“You are, and it’s been stressing me out,” you sigh, his behaviour lately is worrying you.

“Just stop,” he shrugs before wincing lightly.

Of course, that’s what his solution is, “Idiot, I care about you, can’t just stop.”

“Cute,” he comments.

Dropping the first aid kit on the table, you utter, “Shut up.”

Looking at his wound, you are thankful to see it is not anything too serious, a clean and a few stiches should suffice.

“I’m gonna clean it first, it’s gonna hurt.”

He hums his response at you, uninterested.

Reaching over you grab out the gauze and disinfectant.

“Why did you have a bad night?” He asks.

Gently, you begin dabbing at his injury, he intakes a quick breath.

“It was nothing, don’t worry about it,” you answer, disposing of the gauze and switching it out for the needle and suture thread.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Gonna worry, I care about you.”

“Cute,” you repeat his words from earlier back at him. He grunts in displeasure at your mockery of him. “Don’t talk anymore, need to focus,” you add.

You think he rolls his eyes again, but you ignore him and carefully stitch him up, something you learnt years ago, wanting to be able to help Bi-Han anyway you could. He doesn’t know you learnt first aid for him, and he never really lets you help him. He prefers to fix it himself and tell no one about it.

You use a swap to apply betadine to the wound once it’s stitched closed and then place a bandage over it, “I’m done.”

“Thank you,” his voice is quiet.

“What was that?” You ask him, wanting him to say it again. His thanks are hard to come by.

He frowns at you, “You heard me.”

“You’re welcome,” you say in an exaggerated tone.

Pulling up a chair, you sit in front of him, “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong but could you be more careful, or come to me when you’re hurt from now on?” Your voice is pleading with him.

One of his brows raise at you, “If you tell me why you had a bad day, maybe.”

You groan in annoyance at him, “It was nothing, had someone come into work tonight and harass all the workers, not anything new.” Which it isn’t, you work in a bar and have had your fair share of annoying drunk people berate you for no reason, tonight was just especially upsetting.

“All the workers?” He asks.

“So, maybe not all the workers and more specifically… just me,” all the other workers are bigger men. It’s frustrating to you that Bi-Han always knows the right clarifying questions to ask.

“What happened?”

“He was grabby, and mean, it’s fine… it’s happened before, I’ll get over it,” you’d rather not linger on it.

Bi-Han looks like he’s about to combust, “It has happened before… and you did not tell me?”

It happens fairly regularly; you don’t tell Bi-Han because you know what he’ll do and say.

Sighing you answer, “Yes, and I am not quitting, I need the money.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He pushes.

You retort, “Why do you keep getting into fights?”

Both of you are at an impasse.

“Not the same,” he grunts after a moment.

You shrug at him, “It’s just something I deal with, it’s fine.”

“Maybe I will sit in the bar during your whole shift next time.”

“Maybe I will physically fight you before I let the happen,” he’d get you fired for scaring away customers.

He rolls his eyes at you, but then he looks at you sympathetically, “I am sorry, about your day.”

“It’s okay, tomorrow is a new one,” you smile at him softly, optimistic about the future.

He hums at you; he won’t push you any further on this but you can tell he’s mad about what happened.

As you look over his face you notice he has a cut closer to his hairline, “You have a small cut there,” you point towards it, “Hold on, I’ll clean it.”

He sits still and lets you; you hold his face in one hand and use more gauze to tenderly wipe at the cut with the other. Bi-Han watches as you do, eyes scanning over your face and when you pull away, his hands come up to hold onto your face.

“I have been conflicted lately,” he confesses.

You’re confused, “What about?”

“You,” he murmurs, his eyes flit to your lips momentarily, “I want you.”

His words are shocking to you, he has been your friend for a long time and also the person you have harboured feelings for. The idea of him feeling the same never even crossed your mind.

Feeling brave, you assure him, “You have me.”

He moves forward and takes your lips in his, kissing you softly. His lips urgent but his touch tender, his kiss makes your heart pull. You’ve wanted to have his lips on yours for so long and to finally feel him is making you feel lightheaded.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead to yours, “You are stuck with me now.”

“Have been for a while,” you joke but you feel an overwhelming amount of happiness at his words.

It’s funny how easily he turned your bad night into a good one. His eyes on you are soft and full of affection and when you look at him, you’re not just hoping for a better tomorrow, you know tomorrow will be better.

⋆⁺₊❅.

A/N: Thank you for reading !!! This was a softer vibe and I hope you all like it!!! Requests are open but I have a few in my inbox at the moment so if you have requested something recently it may take me a while to get to it, sorry !!! <333 Have a lovely day/night <333

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Sit - Soldier Boy x Reader Oneshot

Summary: Y/N finds herself in trouble when she doesn’t listen to her boyfriend’s instructions. 

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Soldier Boy x plus sized!Reader

Tags: angst, self worth issues, body image issues, oral sex (fem rec), face sitting, face riding, biting, p in v

WC: ± 2.2K

A/Ns: This smutty little fic was commissioned by someone who doesn’t have tumblr, but wanted me to share it with you guys anyway! Hope you all love it! <3

The Boys Masterlist

“We need to talk.” 

Y/N’s eyes widen slightly as she looks up at her boyfriend from her place on the couch, and then a small frown begins to crease into her forehead as she sees the darkness in his green eyes that tells her that whatever this is isn’t good.  

“Okay…” she hesitantly replies, sitting up straighter. “Is everything okay?” 

No, it’s not, he’s had enough of you and he’s leaving. He’s finally realised he can do better than you, that he is so far out of your league you’re barely a spot in the distance.

“No, it’s not actually,” Soldier Boy replies, confirming to her that her inner monologue is right. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at her, making her only grow more and more uncomfortable. 

Just get on with it, she begs him silently in her head.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, timidly. 

“When I tell you to sit, I mean sit,” he explains. 

Only it’s not an explanation at all, and the frown creased into Y/N’s forehead only deepens, as she glances down at the way she’s currently sitting and shifts her weight slightly, wondering what’s wrong with the way she sits and why her boyfriend suddenly has such a big issue with it. 

“I don’t get it, Ben,” she admits, still shuffling in her place. 

“You hover,” he adds, clearly irritated by the very fact. Y/N licks her lips, opening her mouth to reply, but no sound comes out to begin with, and so she clears her throat and then frowns deeper yet. Now she’s completely lost, because she has no idea what Ben’s talking about. “When I tell you to sit on my face I mean sit not hover,” he concludes. 

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, and then a smile begins to curl over her lips, and suddenly she’s giggling to herself. She really thought this was going all wrong, that maybe he was trying to find some ridiculous excuse to break up with her because he didn’t want to just tell her the truth; that he could do better. But now she’s realising it’s got nothing to do with the way she sits on the couch. He’s talking about sex. Of course he is. The thought only makes Y/N giggle harder as the relief floods her entire body. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks, frowning himself now that he’s the one that’s confused. 

“Jesus, Ben, I thought you were seriously angry, then!” she scoffs, shaking her head and relaxing a little, so glad this was just some joke. Jesus, the guy’s a good actor. 

“I am,” he replies stubbornly. But she’s not falling for his teasing any longer.  

“Oh c’mon, it’s no big deal,” she brushes him off, laughing again. “Besides, I don’t wanna crush you, I’m hardly lightweight,” she points out, gesturing to her body.  

Ben’s frown only deepens at her words, and he huffs a breath, staring her down until the smile has faded a little more from her face, and she starts to second guess if he is only teasing, or if he’s actually mad about this. She’s never known the supe to be a huge joker, so maybe she should consider the fact that he’s actually annoyed.

“Are you seriously mad about this?” she checks, just to be sure. 

“Yes,” he confirms with a brief nod of his head. “What’s the matter, you think I can’t handle it?” he challenges. 

“Look at me, Ben, I’m not going on magazine covers any time soon,” she scoffs, shaking her head. “Last thing I need is to suffocate the world’s first superhero to death with my fat thighs.” 

“You flatter yourself too much,” Ben argues back. “You think that’s all it would take to kill me? You just said so yourself, I’m superhuman, I’m sure I can handle it.” 

Suddenly, it all clicks into place, and Y/N realises just why Ben is so upset about this. He thinks that she’s going easy on him, he thinks that she thinks that he can’t handle it. He’s a very proud man, she should’ve known something like this would annoy him. But that doesn’t mean that she can’t point out how ridiculous he’s being. He knows exactly what she thinks about him and his powers. It’s never hurt to call Ben out on his ego trips now and then. She likes to think it keeps him grounded. He does seem a lot more level headed since they started dating. 

“Oh, I see,” Y/N smirks slightly, crossing her own arms over her chest. “I’ve bruised your ego,” she points out. “Ben, it’s nothing personal. It’s just all my exes never meant sit when they said sit,” she explains briefly, not seeing the big deal. 

“Yeah, well until now you’ve only dated boys,” he counters. That’s when he uncrosses his arms and leans down over her, his hands resting either side of her head as he brings his face closer to hers. “You’re dating a man now, honey, so next time I tell you to sit, I expect you to sit.” 

“Yes sir,” she replies sassily, smirking once again before rolling her eyes, but the supe doesn’t smirk back, and she realises he’s once again not messing around. Just the thought actually begins to make her sweat a little. The fact he wants her to stop holding back is quite the turn on. The darkness in his eyes adds to that too, of course. “Next time I’ll sit,” she confirms, with a lot less teasing in her tone. 

Soldier Boy reaches up and grabs her chin softly, kissing her lips briefly. “Good girl,” he husks, before walking away, leaving Y/N dazed and flustered. 

Soldier Boy’s POV

The supe is feeling just a little better that evening as he relaxes back on the bed and amuses himself with the Soldier Boy comic books that had been released during his time away. Though, he’s not too fond of the way he gets portrayed sometimes, like he’s a big baby that runs and hides at the first real sign of danger. Maybe that’s added to his stress, because while he’ll never admit it, Y/N had been right that his issue this morning had mainly been an issue because of a bruised ego. Of course it was a little insulting that Y/N might think he can’t handle a woman sitting on his face. When really, he could think of nothing better, especially when it comes to a woman like Y/N. 

At the thought of her, he hears her humming quietly to herself under her breath as she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a towel. She smiles over at him softly when she notices him looking, and then proceeds to head over to her dresser, opening her drawer and pulling out her pyjamas. Ben can’t help but notice they’re the silky ones he likes most, and just the thought of seeing her in them starts to get him going. But the thing that really sets him off is watching her slowly remove her towel, using it to dab herself dry slowly, exposing more and more of her perfect naked body. 

He can’t help the soft moan that escapes his lips as he appreciates his view, and Y/N glances his way at the sound. 

“What?” she asks coyly. 

“You know just what that body of yours does to me, honey,” he hums, unashamedly. Y/N rolls her eyes and turns her back to him, but he doesn’t appreciate the view any less, his eyes dropping to her perfect, full ass and her thick warm thighs, and he imagines his face trapped between them and has to reach down to palm over his thickening cock. “C’mere,” he commands with a soft grunt. 

Y/N slowly approaches his side of the bed, still clinging to her towel as she attempts to cover up part of her body with it. The supe is quick to reach out and tear it from her grasp, throwing it to the floor so she’s got nowhere to hide. His eyes rake hungrily over her curves, and he realises it doesn’t matter how many times he sees her, he’ll never grow tired of seeing her. 

“Remember what we talked about earlier?” he asks, peeling his eyes off of her body and looking up at her face instead. 

“Yeah,” she replies hesitantly, seemingly only growing more timid. 

“Good,” the supe grins, shuffling himself further down the bed and throwing his head back. “Then sit.” 

“Right now?” she checks. 

Soldier Boy only has to turn his head and look at her to prompt her into action as she bites down on her bottom lip and begins to climb onto the bed. He can tell she’s still hesitant, slowly and carefully lifting her leg to begin straddling his body, and the supe grows impatient and grabs her thigh, tugging her down almost forcefully as he makes her squeal and giggle slightly. Instantly, her sex is pressed against his mouth, and Ben wastes no time opening up, extending his tongue to push through her folds as he begins to taste her sweet juices. He hums in delight, feeling the full extent of her weight pressing down on his face, feeling utterly suffocated by her and loving every second of it. This is what he’s been craving. 

He laps up every drop she gives him; and she only gives him more and more the longer he toys with her clit, or fucks her opening with his tongue, and while her voice is muffled thanks to the warm, soft flesh of her thighs pressing against his ears, he can still hear her hums and moans of pleasure above him, and he can hear the slight groans and creaks of the mattress and headboard as she holds on for dearlife and rocks her hips to aid him. His arms wrap firmly around her hips, holding her down tighter against him, wanting to struggle to breathe in anything but her and her intoxicating scent, and it works, his cock desperate and throbbing between his legs at the very sensations flooding him. 

When he begrudgingly pulls back for air, he turns his head and begins to bite and suck on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, making her gasp for air and tense them either side of his face, only making him feel even more wrapped up in her. 

“God you taste so good, baby girl,” he growls against her skin, once again encouraging her pussy back onto his mouth, already missing the sweet tang of her juices. 

He feasts on her once more, not stopping until her legs are shaking either side of his head, and she’s trying to speak coherent words, but the only sounds falling from her lips are in broken english and near enough gibberish, until he can feel her walls pulsing inside her, her thigh muscles quivering. 

He moans himself as he pushes his way out from underneath her, leaving her on her knees, supported by the headboard she’s still clinging to for dear life, and he’s quick to kneel behind her, pulling out his throbbing erection and finally giving it some of the attention it’s craved. He places one hand on her hip, his fingers digging into the soft, supple flesh, and keeps her in her place as he shuffles a little closer and teases her pussy with the tip of his cock. She moans, rocking her hips back seemingly instinctively, and Soldier Boy wastes no time teasing the two of them for a moment longer. 

He thrusts forward, feeling her pussy still pulsating from her orgasm, sucking him in perfectly, and he moans, his eyes beginning to roll as he hones in on the rapid speed of her heartbeat. 

“Fuck, honey,” he hums, folding himself over her, “you almost feel as good as you taste.” 

He presses his face into the side of her neck, dragging his teeth along her delicate skin, biting and sucking occasionally, knowing how much she loves that as he starts fucking into her from behind, wrapping his one arm around her front to keep her elevated just right. Y/N moans, reaching to hold onto his arm rather than the headboard as she fucks back into him too, her nails digging into his skin everytime he gets deep enough. 

“Did that feel good?” he asks breathily against her ear. He can feel her nod, but she clearly can’t reply with words, which only makes him feel even more smug. “Good, so next time I tell you to sit, you better fucking sit,” he growls, his cock throbbing at just the thought of next time. 

“Oh fuck,” she gasps out, her eyes fluttering closed. “Whatever you want, baby.” 

[nnight-dances]

SOME GUY!

pairings: mark lee x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, heated moments tropes: close friends to lovers?, mark avoids u because he's stupid, taeyong as your perfect ex who's still in love w u, u kiss mark's face to shut him up. warnings: mint ice-cream slander, mark is some guy, skinship, college frat party, not proofread.

author's note: haha guess who's in their mark phase hhhhh... sorry he's just such an interesting guy i could write him all day long. either way!!! more mark appreciation, less depression <3

—

at the end of the day, mark really was just some guy.

that’s what he thought to himself everytime he sat down to really consider the reality of all things. he doesn’t mean to get all self-deprecating and emo like that, but it was just a neutral truth thing that kinda hurts the first time you realize it but then it’s just the obvious thing in your daily life. but of course, if he ever did tell someone that he always felt like some guy among a bunch of cool guys, regardless of their gender, he would have to sit through one of those ultimately useless and pitiful speeches about how talented he really was.

— “you know what? you’re right!”

mark’s thoughts zap off their route when he hears you agree with his remark a few seconds ago. honestly, he hadn’t been completely sure if you’d heard him because of the lack of reaction you’d given him. but when you suddenly chuckle and agree with him, mark chokes over the stream of dr pepper in his throat.

he coughs desperately, “wait, what?”

your smile widens, “you’re just some guy. that’s like the perfect description of you.”

under normal circumstances, mark thinnks he would’ve been offended by how certain you sound. but the way you say it? it’s not like you’re trying to be mean or condescending… more like you’re just saying the truth. the neutral truth thing…

“i can’t believe you,” mark mutters, face splitting in a laugh, “i can’t believe you’re agreeing with me!” you look slightly confused but continue, “don’t tell me you’re hurt? you were the one who brought it up!”

mark shakes his head, controlling his laughter, still slightly losing his mind. “you’re really something, bro. i just didn’t expect you to actually be honest.” he laughs again, taking a sip of his drink again, becoming aware that he was being too loud for a bookstore. thankfully though, on a brief glance around, nobody seemed to care.

you fiddle with the zipper of your pencil pouch in thought. then, a shrug as you look back at mark, “hmm, isn’t that funny. i’m some thing, you’re some guy.”

mark falls into another fit of laughter before he knows it, disbelieving more than anything over your badly disguised shamelessness. you hold in a laugh as you land the last punch to his gut, “the perfect pair, isn’t it?” — the punch that sends him right into an oblivion of a world where nothing except you makes sense.

(ok perhaps, mark was being a tad dramatic. you know what he means though: he’s smitten.)

—

if someone were to kidnap you for the purposes of interrogating your honesty behind your claims that you thought mark was some guy, you’d probably get shot in the head instead, because there was no way you were letting anyone in on the information that you did not actually consider mark some guy.

maybe, a little, yes, but at this point, the phrase ‘some guy’ needs some more definiton. some guy as in boring and bland and dry and overdone? absolutely not. if that was what mark was, you wouldn’t have been committing every last one of your wednesday evenings, aka the only free evenings you ever get, to sitting in a crowded bookstore to pretend to do homework with him. you never did homework with mark around.

mark was the kind of some guy that was just being himself. yeah, that’s all you got. mark was mark. good explanation.

“bro? y/n, you good?”

you blink, finding mark swaying in front of you. you were currently sat on a bench near the building where your next class was.

“uhh, sorry,” you take off your headphones to look up at mark, “what are you doing on this part of campus?”

mark shrugs with a playful smile, “why can’t i be here?”

“because you literally don’t take any classes in the econ department?”

he shrugs again, “what if i’ve changed my ways? we’re still young and free, y/n, think a little outside the box, won’t you?”

“you’re taking econ? how- how did you-?”

“oh, look at that,” mark cuts you off, holding up his phone in front of your face. the time reads 11:05 am. “it’s time for our class. let’s go.” you’re busy processing his words (our class???) when he pulls you by the arm and toward the hall behind you.

and that’s the story of how you go from knowing absolutely nobody in your econ class, to sitting next mark in the extremely damp and cramped chairs of your econ class which means your arm is constantly touching his which you, for some reason, don’t hate. probably because the chilly fall wind coming through the window next to mark always makes you glad for the warmth.

mark, on the other hand, smiles a small smile whenever you shuffle closer because even though, the guy (doyoung is his name?) in front of him is always asking him to close the window, he would rather not.

—

“you’re kidding? ice-cream? in this fucking weather?” you question mark, coughing a fake cough to make your point.

“what are you, a coward?”

when you give mark an unimpressed look, he breaks a laugh, grabbing hold of you by your elbow. cheekily, he says, “please. for me?”

you frown, feeling your resolve crumble under his stupid gaze, “i hate you,” you say but let mark pull you after him into the tiny corner shop.

the two of you huddle over the menu of the ice-cream shop, and you exclaim quietly, “oh! i’ve been wanting to try their raspberry choco flavor for a while!” mark looks between you and menu, “ah, really? that sounds kinda good.”

then, he shifts to look at the girl behind the counter, “uhh, we’ll have one mint chocolate and one raspberry choco, please.” you gasp at mark’s choice, “m-mint chocolate?! mark. i think i might break up with you.”

mark is too busy reddening at your joke that hits too close to home to notice the worker chuckling at you. she processes your orders and mark has time to recover.

when he looks back at you, you’re still grimacing. “i didn’t think you could get any worse.”

“are you sure you should be saying that to someone who’s treating you to icecream?”

“huh?” your eyes widen and then you smile, “ahhh, i see. i wasn’t aware you were bribing me into have a favorable opinion of you.” before mark can retort though, you continue with a smirk, “i’m not complaining though.”

your smirk both flusters and scares mark because it’s evidence you’re upto no good in your head but before he can air his suspicion, you’re reaching out for the two cones of icecream that the girl is handing out.

“you guys are really cute together,” the worker remarks shyly, giving you a thumbs up of approval.

mark chokes on the first bite of his mint choco icecream. you look at mark and he expects you to shut down the worker swiftly, but then you reach for his hand, pulling him closer with a bashful smile and say, “thanks, that’s really sweet of you.”

“uh-?” you cut mark’s question off by pulling him out of the store after you.

when you’re outside, you burst into laughter at the perplexed look on mark’s look, looking absolutely adorable next to his already melting green blob of an abomination.

—

the next morning, mark is still suffering through it, unable to come to terms with your actions yesterday. they were honestly not out of character for you. you were always one to do shit just because you knew it would get a reaction out of someone else. like, that time you didn’t tell mark he had spinach in his teeth the whole time he was speaking in econ and only told him at the end. yeah, sure, but surely that was different from you pretending that you and mark were together. right?

mark’s pulled out of his thoughts when his phone buzzes next to his pillow. he stirs to his side, opening his phone only to find a text from you.

y/n: fuck u

mark’s heart skips a beat, no matter the fact that you’re swearing at him the first thing in the morning.

mark: what did i do now…

y/n: it’s ur fault

mark: ???

y/n: i’m fuckin sick

“oh, fuck,” mark swears, sitting up with a frown, fingers quickly shooting a flurry of concerned texts back.

mark: oh shit really?

mark: im so sorry

mark: how bad is it?

y/n: it’s just a cold, dw not that bad

mark: what does that mean?

you, however, don’t bother to elaborate any more on your condition, going silent.

he groans, guilt settling in the slouch of his shoulder as he stares at his screen for a solid 10 minutes before giving up on your response. as he gets ready for the day, at the top of mark’s to do list is to visit your dorm room with medicine and snacks.

but by the time 3 pm rolls around, mark finds himself constantly distracted by classes and homeowork. he looks at the time and sighs. you hadn’t managed to get back to him. but considering how he hadn’t seen you in econ or lunch, your cold was more than ‘not bad’.

sitting outside the library to collect his thoughts, he spots chaewon, your roommate. the two of you had run into mark on a grocery shopping errand and mark had had a decent enough conversation to make him run up to chaewon.

“oh!” chaewon is surprised at first when mark blocks her way with a quick hey. “oh hey, mark!”

“um,” mark looks at the take-out box in her hands, “um, is that for y/n?”

“oh, yeah. did you hear? she woke up this morning with a fever.”

“a fever?”

“yeah, it was pretty high too. i had to force her to stay in bed or i think she would’ve just gone to class like the dumbass she is.”

mark frowns, “oh, no. has she eaten all day?”

chaewon hums in thought, “she told me she was fine for breakfast. i’m not sure if she had lunch though so i was just going to take some pizza and salad in case she’s been starving.”

mark’s frown deepens as she adds, “oh i better hurry though! i have to get back here in time for my dance practice.”

“ah…” he scratches his head, “uhh, if you’re busy, i wouldn’t mind dropping it off to y/n.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow, “wait, really? you’d do that?”

“um, yeah. it’s my fault she got sick anyway. i made her eat icecream last night.”

she laughs, “a little icecream wouldn’t have done that. but sure! it’d be a great help, if you did that. thanks, mark.”

mark hadn’t thought this through, he realizes when he reaches the door that reads y/n on the door, right next to chaewon. he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, before knocking on the door. “y/n?” his voice breaks mid-sentence and he wants to hide in a hole somewhere, but you’re quick to throw your door open.

your hair is up in a bun which bobs in rhythm with your head, when you find mark outside your room, “mark? what the fuck are you doing here?”

“you weren’t responding to my texts,” he mumbles, and then holds up chaewon’s takeout box in one hand and in the other, the bag of medicine and snacks he’d packed. “i come bearing gifts though.”

you cough hoarsely into your elbow, pulling at the hem of your green hoodie as you consider mark in front of you. “you could’ve told me you were coming,” you sound… shy? mark thinks as he follows into your room after you gesture him to enter.

he looks at your bed and chuckles at the mess that is your bed. then, he smiles as he looks at the eccentric yet coherent collage of pictures and letters on your wall. “this is so you,” he comments and places the food and medicine on your table.

you pout, “a room that looks like all hell broke lose… is me? wow, thanks, mark.”

mark wants to refute your comment, he does, but then he gets distracted by how the way you say his name in your hoarse inside voice and he coughs a little. “i got you medicine though?” he sounds squeaky to his own ears.

you smile though at that, looking inside the bag he’s kept. “ahhh, ramen! i knew i could count on you, mark lee.”

mark almost wants to beg you to stop saying his name so much. but instead he shoots you a thumbs up, “how are you holding up?”

you nod in thought, still unpacking everything mark bought, “hmm, i’m alive. you should’ve seen me in the morning though i felt like something was trying to crawl out my skin.”

you laugh at the imagery, pausing when you catch the guilty look on mark. you already know he’s about to apologize when he opens his mouth. you hold up a finger threateningly, “i know i said that in the morning, but it’s not actually your fault. i always get sick like this every time fall rolls around.”

“no, for real though, i did force you to come eat icecream with me, didn’t i? i’m sorry.”

“ugh, mark, trust me, i wouldn’t have eaten the icecream if i really didn’t want to,” you say, too kindly for your usual snarkiness as if you can sense how genuine mark’s apology was, “for real, my body’s just weird like that.”

when mark remains silent for another minute, you groan, “i know! you can repay me. stay and we can watch a movie or something. all the sleeping’s making me feel gross. plus, i couldn’t eat all this food myself.”

and that’s how mark finds himself settled next to you on your bed, blanket covering half his body, watching gilmore girls (your fall preference of entertainment, it seems). the first half hour went by fine, with one of you commenting ocassionally at something the characters did, but then you shifted closer to mark with a cough.

he was shocked at first but then he wonders if the medicine you’d taken before were starting to take effect. (he’d questioned how wise it was for you to be taking them before watching something, but he also didn’t want to make your condition worse.)

“you good, y/n?” he mumbles under his breath when he feels your head come to rest against his shoulder. he sounds surprisingly calm for the turmoil that is bursting within his veins at the contact.

you hum in acknowledgement, sniffing a little, “yeah, just a little sleepy.”

“oh, you should probably rest then,” mark reaches for the spacebar to pause the episode but your cold hand pulls his finger away. except you don’t let go of his finger, instead seeming to crave warmth, you’re suddenly holding his hand, icy fingertips coming to rest against the back of his palm.

mark’s hearbeat is in his ears by now but he lets you hold his hand as you protest, “mm, don’t wanna sleep. just keep watching.”

you don’t sound promising but he doesn’t argue, letting you having the final say in this situation.

five minutes later though, you stir against mark’s side, arm now in his lap and… yeah, you’re falling asleep.

mark freezes at the realization when he sees your eyelashes fluttering shut. oh god. oh no… this wasn’t good for his well-being. or his obsession with you. or anything.

he clears his throat, hating himself, “um, y/n?”

you don’t respond except for a short grunt that indicates you don’t intend to wake up. he doesn’t have the heart to move you but also, this wasn’t right, was it?

there wasn’t anything wrong with it per se, except of course the fact that it did not help mark’s big fat ugly crush on you or the fact that he spent the whole day thinking about how you were sick and it was his fault.

you move slightly in your sleep, suddenly seeming to come to. your eyes open a little, “mark?” your voice is dangerously low.

“yeah?” mark can hear the nerves in his voice.

you’re pulling him now, without a warning, onto your bed. “you’re warm. stay.”

mark’s eyes widen when you turn to hug him around the waist.

fuck. fuck. fuck. FUCK. this was… THIS IS…. UTREJKLSGIURKEJU?????YGSAELRIAY

mark brain malfunctions for a good minute before he remembers how to think. first, he thinks he has to leave or you’ll hate him forever. but when he tries to budge, you groan an annoyed groan making him scared to leave..

??? what is one supposed to do in these circumstances?

he stills, deciding it was better if he let you doze off comfortably. he slowly places an arm around your shoulder, patting a reassuring back rub into your skin. you nuzzle closer into him, clueless of the way mark is short-circuiting.

before he knows it though, mark finds himself dozing off, chin pressed up against the bone of your shoulder. the sleep isn’t chaotic like his thoughts usually are, but it’s a peaceful sleep, the kind that you only get when you share a bed with someone.

—

ever since that eventful… nap, mark has found himself growing closer to you, in all senses of the phrase. you’d seemed to start trusting mark more, your bookstore evenings turning into whole days spent in each other’s company. sometimes you’d be at each other’s room, more often yours, but otherwise, you’d end up in some new corner of campus, giggling over half-completed essays and collectively complaining about econ.

you’d also grown closer… physically. something about spending a sick evening in someone’s arms, you’d like to say. whatever the reason was, one way or another, you’d find a way to be next to each other.

you’d made a habit of holding mark’s hand, especially on colder days when your fingers lost all feeling till you pressed them into the knuckles of mark’s warm ones. other times, mark’s hand would be on your shoulder or back, casually doodling into your skin, a lazy smile on his face while you dramatically narrate some event from your life.

mark could tell something was different, though he dared not investigate what it was, too afraid to mess up what he had right now.

but then, he does the stupid thing of asking you the question.

it’s on a late night hangout in your room when chaewon’s out for the weekend to visit home, and y’all are sprawled on your bed, exhausted from a movie marathon.

something about the dim lights and the way you lean against his shoulder, makes him speak. “do you like someone right now?”

for a good while, mark thinks he mustn’t have asked the question out loud because of how quiet you are. but then, “what about you?”

“not fair! i asked you first,” mark complains with a chuckle. you shrug, “not telling if you don’t.”

he rolls his eyes, “two can play this game, y’know. i’m not giving.”

“ugh, fine. i’ll tell you about my ex for now.”

mark’s ear perks up at the mention and he waits for you to continue.

“ah, this is so embarassing to talk about. but.. last semester i was with taeyong.”

“wait. lee taeyong?”

“mhm-hm. you know him? he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off. we broke up right before new year’s eve so that was fun.”

mark falls silent as he recalls everything he can about lee taeyong. so far he has: perfect face and killer charm. oh yeah, wasn’t he a student athlete?

“you dated an athelete?” mark can’t help but ask.

“see! i know you’d make fun,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“no- no, i’m not making fun. that’s insane. taeyong is, like, famous.”

you groan, “and you’re listing all the reasons i broke up with him.”

mark isn’t sure what he can do with this information so he releases a strained chuckle, suddenly ready to head back to his room. he can’t be too obvious though, so he waits a bit.

“what about you?” you ask him, poking his arm. “any embarassing boyfriends?”

mark laughs despite it all, “i wish. i was in a silly little relationship but it was so long ago that i hardly remember.” with that, he sits up, a little abruptly.

you frown as he clears his throat, “um, anyway, i should get back soon. i’ve got to sleep.”

“the fuck?” you question, “it’s like 11 pm?”

“well, yeah, i have an early morning tomorrow.”

“on a sunday?”

“yeah, uhm, i forgot to tell you about this new job i have. anyways, i should really sleep soon. i’ll see you later, yeah?”

and just like that, mark leaves your room, with you gaping at how fast he’d made his exit, not even bothering to make real excuses. new job? halfway through the semester? yeah, sure. you feel your mood dampening at mark’s sudden cold shoulder, wondering if you’d upset him. but no matter how many times you thought about it, you weren’t sure what had made him act like that.

mark, on the other hand, can’t get the conversation out of his head, even as he walks to the library at 8 am on a sunday, ready to finish all traces of homework in existence. it doesn’t matter though because sitting in the silence of the study room, his mind repeats your words.

he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off.

boy, did mark feel stupid as shit. for everything? for thinking you were into him. somewhere along the way, your hands on his had him confused. for a minute there, he had stopped thinking about how he was actually just some guy. some guy who you chose to hang out with now and then, some guy who was your friend. mark was nowhere close to being taeyong, and even taeyong didn’t cut it for you. really, though, he couldn’t blame you. you really did deserve the best anyone could imagine.

a text from you interrupts his self-loathing spiralling.

y/n: heyoo!! u alive?

y/n: u left kinda abruptly last night. is everything ok?

mark clenches his fist as if to obliterate the hopeful smile that threatens his face. he thinks of how he might respond: sorry cant talk i’ve to make sure i’m not in love with u before i see u again or maybe: sorry i’m just trying not to cry in broad daylight bc i love u too much hjbykyvkvyf

“fuck! sorry!” a voice pulls mark back from his head. he looks up to see who’s broken into his study room… only to see lee taeyong standing there in confusion. of course this happens to mark.

“uhh, can i help you?” mark barely controls the snap that tries to escape him at the sight of taeyong.

“um, sorry,” taeyong looks down at his phone then back at mark, “i could’ve sworn i booked this room for the next hour…”

mark frowns, certain he’d booked this room for the next two hours. usually, he would’ve just told taeyong he’s booked it wrong, but instead he just says, “oh? i guess you can take this room then. i’ll go somewhere else.”

mark starts packing up but the other boy protests quickly, “no, no! it’s okay. i- um, i’d feel bad if you did that. what if… what if we shared? it’ll be nice to have someone else in the room, no?” taeyong smiles brightly at mark and the latter wants his eyes to stop working already.

call it the law of inertia, but something in mark doesn’t let him just leave the room, almost intrigued by how this might turn out. “alright, then.”

taeyong, as much as mark hates to admit it, is really nice. he hadn’t ever heard anything to refute that, but sitting silently in a room with someone really tells you all you need to know about someone. either way, the study sessions somehow seems to provide mark some sense of peace.

or so he thinks.

what he doesn’t expect is that two hours later, as the two of them are packing up to empty the room for the next occupant, for the next occupant to be… you. yes, of course, that’s gonna happen in this story.

for a moment, mark doesn’t find it particularly shocking to see you but when he notices the stiff look you share with taeyong, he realizes what’s happening.

you’d just entered the room with a knock when you’d noticed who was inside. your eyes travel between mark and taeyong, your mind unable to make sense of this.

your first thought is… is this why mark was weird last night? because he was close to taeyong and got offended by your remarks?

that would be the easy alternate, wouldn’t it? but even you can tell there’s a dryness in the way mark looks at the two of you, a look that unsettles you. of course, the sight of taeyong also unsettles you.

he speaks up before you, “y/n?”

you awkwardly wave at the two of them, “hi mark. hey taeyong. didn’t expect to see the two of you together.”

you look at mark pointedly but he’s not giving you much to work with. he just laughs as taeyong rushes to explain, “ah, i made a mistake in booking this room at the same time as mark, and he was kind enough to let me stay.”

marks want to leave right now. because of the way taeyong’s eyes are sparkling at the sight of you, hands nervously fidgeting. but he decides against it, when he sees you uneasy you seem, tight grip around the strap of your tote bag.

“what are you doing here?” mark asks and a part of you is relieved that he’s talking to you.

“um, homework. i didn’t really know what else to do ever since my friend started ghosting me.”

mark flinches at your attack, but persists in looking as indifferent as he can. “sorry about that, i got caught up finishing this essay.”

taeyong awkwardly coughs, “um, i should probably leave now. i have practice to get to.”

mark is quick to follow after taeyong, scared to death of being alone in a room with you. he doesn’t know what to do with himself around you anymore. “uhh, yeah, i’ll leave you to do homework, then! see ya!”

and just like that, it’s a repeat of last night. mark’s back receding except this time you watch him wave at you with a half-hearted smile as he leaves. you barely manage to close the door behind you before you feel yourself tear up.

this is stupid, you realize through tears, to be crying over something like this. but something like this? it meant a lot to you. you sit where mark sat minutes ago, the same disappointment in your eyes and a similar weight in your heart.

mark is not having the time of his life either though, as he walks out the library with taeyong, who starts asking questions about you as soon as he can.

“so you’re friends with y/n?” mark simply nods at that, having seen this coming.

“that’s cool. she’s really cool, isn’t she?”

“yeah, i suppose. she’s fun.”

“how close are you to her?”

mark laughs dismissively, “haha, i feel like i’ve done something wrong. calm down, bro.”

taeyong flushes at that, rubbing his neck, “oh, sorry. i didn’t mean to interrogate you like that. it’s just… you probably know about us, right?”

that words leaves taeyong’s mouth and buries itself deep into mark’s heart. us.

taeyong continues, “it’s just that i really miss her, man. i don’t think i’ve had as much fun with anyone else since her. or maybe, it’s just because i’m always comparing everyone to her.”

mark really doesn’t know what to say, feeling himself stuck in a similar situation. “hmm, it’ll get better.”

“i hope you’re right,” taeyong says, cheerfully patting mark’s back, “well, i have to go that way. see you around, bro. take care of her.”

take care of her? marks smiles remorsefully as he watches taeyong leave. and he wonders what was going on in your mind when you broke up with someone that perfect? what went on in your head when you befriended mark, just some guy?

—

on saturday, it’s been a whole week since you’ve talked to mark. you’d actually stayed up all night yesterday hoping he’d have a change of heart on friday night, and he’d text you with a can we talk? or come knocking on your door with an apologetic smile with some silly excuse. and you would’ve accepted it all because you were not familar with a mark-less existence. the past week was.. not good for you.

but on saturday night, you decide it’s enough. or rather, chaewon decides it’s enough when she sees you ready to spend the night in bed.

“y/n, i’m sorry but i can’t respect your stupid decisions anymore,” she bursts into the room with a concerned look.

you frown, “ouch? you just called me stupid.”

“because that’s what you’re being. i don’t care if you’re going through it, i’m not letting you woe over some guy on the weekend.”

you grimace at the phrase some guy, remembering your conversation with mark. “hey! i’m talking to you, miss,” chaewon’s hands pull off your bed. “let’s go out tonight. i don’t care.”

“chaewon…” you complain, voice low.

“y/n, my dear friend, stop giving up on life because mark lee is ghosting you. if i know anything about the two of you, y’all will be back to cuddling each other next week.”

you want to say you’re afraid that’s not gonna happen but chaewon is moving too fast for you. she throws a dress at you and then, a coat. “wear those and come to yunjin’s room. we’re pre-gaming.”

an hour later, you’re not feeling so bad after all. you’d forgotten how fun getting wasted really was. you giggle hopelessly when yunjin cracks another “slayyy~” at chaewon’s empty glass. as sakura pours her another shot, you nudge her with your own empty cup.

your roommate frowns a little, “you sure you’re not going too fast?”

you roll your eyes, “chaewon! you’re the one who wanted to slut me out tonight. how am i gonna do that sober?” that makes everyone double up in laughter and you down the vodka with a triumphant sigh.

another hour later, you’re really feeling yourself. the pre-game finally ended with all of you walking to the frat that was throwing tonight. the first step you take into the crowded room has you regretting your decision, but your worries go to waste once you’re hearing the music blast through your veins.

you stay within chaewon’s group for most of the night. the girls are fun, yunjin being one of the best people you’ve partied with. it’s halfway through a doja cat song when you feel your bladder getting full from all the beer. you groan at all the effort it’s gonna take to go upstairs to where the bathroom was, but you could use a break.

you quickly tell chaewon you’ll be back, pointing in the direction of the bathroom and reassure her you’re fine when she asks to come with. the world is definitely spinning as you go up the stairs but you do make it to the top without falling over.

but as soon as you reach for the door of the bathroom, you lose balance as the person inside emerges. “fuck,” you groan, falling over into the person ahead, “’m sorry,” you mumble, supporting yourself against the sink.

you’re ready to push whoever it is out of the bathroom when you heard a familar voice. “y/n?”

you look up and actually gasp when you see mark in front of you. “mark?!” you sound incredulous but honestly, you’re just ecstatic. “i miss you,” you say your thoughts shamelessly.

mark reddens or so your vision tells you. “y/n, are you drunk?”

you frown and shake your head, about to explain yourself when a loud voice outside tells you to hurry up with your business, the door still open. mark shouts a, “find somewhere else, buddy!” and shuts the door, locking it behind him.

your drunk brain isn’t doing well with the concept of you in a locked room with mark. “are you drunk, mark?”

mark laughs at your question, “a little, yeah.”

“okay, good, then can you just-” you lose your balance again and mark steadies you instantly, warm hand on your elbow. you lose your train of thoughts at the feel of him, looking into his eyes wordlessly.

you think you stay there for a minute like that, the two of you just catching up on all the looks you’ve missed out on in the last week.

“why are you mad at me?” you ask the question that’s been bugging you for ages. wanting mark to understand how hurt you’ve been, you pull at the sleeve of shirt, “i’ve been so sad. why are you avoiding me?”

mark takes your hand in his, “no! it’s not like that. i’m… not mad at you.”

“really?” you question him through a pout, “really?”

he doesn’t know what to do when pinned with that gaze of yours in that moment. and then his eyes land up on your lips, your little pout.

he knew the alcohol was a bad idea because now he can’t think straight, knowing he has to explain everything to you or he might lose it all. but somehow, instead of words, he feels another ugre crawl up his skin.

just as you open your mouth to speak, you feel mark’s lips on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp into his mouth, and he pulls away just as soon as he leaned in. he drops your hand, falling to his knees.

it takes you a moment to re-orient yourself after the taste of mark in your mouth, but you hear mark sniffle and instantly join him on the ground, hands on his face.

“are you crying?”

mark tries to stop himself but he can’t. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry.”

“hey,” you find yourself sobering up. how could you not when mark lee is in front of you, tears staining his ever-smiling face? “hey, mark, look at me.” he wipes at his face shakily, looking up at you through a fresh flood of tears.

“i’m sorry,” his voice breaks, “i’ve been acting so selfish with you. i shouldn’t have avoided you. i shouldn’t have kissed you. i’m.. it’s all because…” he trails off conveniently at the part of his sentence you most need to hear.

your fingers trail down to his chin, bringing his face back up, “it’s all because of what, mark? talk to me, baby.”

something in mark uncoils when you coo at him lovingly like that, his name as breathy as the nickname you suddenly throw at him. his lip quivers but his words are clear as day, “fuck, i’m into you, y/n. i know i’m just some guy really but i think i like you. i- like romantically, i’m dying to be with you.” he sighs when you don’t say anything, stunned into silence.

your hand stays put on his face though which mark thinks of as a good sign. gingerly, he takes your hand, gaze pointed at your interlocked fingers. “i know it’s awkward because you’re not into me like that. it’s all good, i understand.”

“mark, you’re drunk,” you finally mumble out, hand twitching in disbelief. “you’re just saying things.”

mark stiffens, “w-what? no! i’m serious, y/n. i’m not even that drunk anymore. how could i be, when you’re right here?” but then, he stirs, hands leaving yours, “oh, but if you’d rather forget that this happened—”

it’s a replay of five minutes ago, except this time your lips come crashing into mark’s, with so much force that you topple him over. he takes you with him, hand finding purchase at your waist as he pulls you on top of him, his back hitting the door of the bathroom.

your kiss is fierce, almost angry because you did not deserve to be kept in the dark about mark’s feelings. you push closer to him, making him groan into your lips at the intensity. you pull away then, hand at mark’s chest, “i hate you for avoiding me like that, mark. i can’t believe you.”

mark tries to explain himself but you’re kissing him again, swallowing his words whole, unforgiving in the way your hands grip his arms. again, you pull away, “what did you think? that i’d stop talking to you because you like me? you’re so stupid sometimes, mark.”

“i don’t—”

“no, you don’t understand. do you see me right now?” mark nods, eyes trailing at your disheveled state. mark couldn’t forget this sight if he wanted to: your hair wet with sweat, panting in between mark’s legs, lips a breath away.

“do i look like i hate you?”

“i mean, you do look annoyed,” mark remarks and you slap his arm with a snarl.

“that’s because you’re being unfair. what about my feelings for you, huh?” you challenge with a glare. “what about how much i suffered just because you decided to not show up to the bookstore? all because you came to some stupid conclusion by yourself?”

“wait,” mark starts, but you’re not letting him talk.

“no, listen, if i could, i’d seriously slap you. because i’m that down bad for you, mark! i’ve been thinking about doing this with you ever since you fell asleep in my bed that day. so fuck you, for hurting me like that.”

you’re breathless, eyes still trained on mark with that look of betrayal mixed with desire. you can’t help yourself though, mark looks absolutely breath-taking in front of you, mouth ajar in shock, lips red from your relentless kisses.

mark takes too long to process your words just then, long enough that you’re coming down from your high, embarassment flooding your veins. you go cold, standing up with a grunt. “i’m just gonna go back,” you mutter in disappointment, leaving before you can see mark’s response.

he’s coming back to his senses now, realizing that maybe you were right about how stupid he’d been. “fuck,” he breathes out, regaining his footing as he chases after you.

this chase proves to be difficult, given that the party only seems to have gotten more crowded since mark left. he struggles through the throngs of people, shouldering through, when he spots a silhouette of you in his peripheral vision. you were outside, apparently talking to another taller figure.

mark follows your shadow to the door, quickly making his way out. his breath hitches when he finds taeyong next to you. his arm is around your shoulder and you’re speaking to him in a low voice.

“y/n,” mark calls out, not hesitating to break taeyong’s hold on you, replacing it with his own embrace. he pulls you close. your eyes are teary and you sniff when you see mark, “what-”

“i’m sorry, can we talk?” he mumbles into your side, still aware of taeyong’s presence.

“oh, hey, mark. i was just,” taeyong moves to stand in front of the two of you, “taking care of y/n. she looked sick.”

“i’m fine, taeyong,” you reassure him, pressing yourself into mark’s side. “i’ll let mark walk me home. good night.” mark is impressed at how easily you dismiss taeyong, pulling mark after you.

“what do you want?”

mark stops you from walking, pulling you into a hug instead. “you’re right, i’m really stupid. let me ask you this instead: would you let me be your boyfriend?”

you release a soft laugh against his neck at his question, arms still for a moment for dramatic effect. then, you wrap yourself around him, kissing your answer into his ear, “of course, you idiot.”

—

[sethsclearwater]

synopsis: paul breaks up with human!reader after shifting only to imprint on her the next time he sees her. 

warnings: smut at the end, paul being a soft-ish dom bc he feels bad, implies that reader is drinking and/or smoking weed in the beginning (reader and paul are both 21+ in this!!)

notes: cassie from “hot head” makes an appearance in this lol

word count: 3.68k

…

you had been dating your now ex-boyfriend paul lahote for nearly 3 years when he spontaneously broke up with you one gloomy tuesday morning over text. it came out of nowhere and he didn’t offer much of an explanation aside from the fact that he needed space from you to clear his head and focus on himself. 

as one would expect, you didn’t take it very well and spent the next 48 hours inside your apartment attempting to numb all your emotions with any kind of substance you could get your hands on. by some grace of god, you’d managed to resist the urge to make a fool of yourself and show up at paul’s place and bitch him out. 

after about 2 days of wallowing in your sorrows, your friends had managed to convince you to go out with them, saying going out for drinks and some dancing would be good for you to get your mind off him for a while.

so you (very begrudgingly) went with. your friends had dressed you up in a pair of daisy dukes and a borderline lingerie lace top before agreeing you were going to be the best-looking person at the club.

once you guys got to the club, you and your friend cassie had taken a seat at the bar while the rest of your friends immediately got out on the dance floor after all of you took your first shot of the night together, “you feeling okay?” she asked softly, offering you a sad smile, knowing how much pain you were in.

you shrugged, taking a sip of the fruity drink cassie had ordered you just a few minutes prior, “i guess.” you responded, not particularly interested in delving into your feelings over the whole thing, knowing you’d just end up being a mess if you talked about it for too long.

she nodded, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, “well i can stay with you tomorrow if you want some company. i’m not working or anything.” she offered and you nodded, happy to have someone with you so you could at least try and numb your mind for a little while.

“that would be great.” you responded softly. you quickly changed the topic to the new guy she had been seeing, talking about him for a good 30 minutes or so while you let the alcohol kick in. the conversation didn’t last much longer though because you spotted jared cameron entering the club out of the corner of your eye.

you had only spoken with him a few times but knew he was one of the people in paul’s new group of people. cassie seemed to notice too and she let out a groan, “you’ve gotta be kidding me.” she whined, both of you looking over to see none other than paul lahote walk in a few moments later, looking arguably more miserable than you at the moment. 

the two of you made eye contact for a brief second before you pulled your gaze away, looking back over to cassie who was grumbling something about going over there and starting a fight, “jesus christ does he ever stop staring?” she groaned and you couldn’t help the giggle you let out when you realized she was talking about paul who was apparently burning holes in the side of your head with the way he was staring at you. 

“oh fuck they’re coming over let’s move-” she started, quickly hopping off the barstool and grabbing your hand, tugging you into the crowd of people on the dancefloor. 

you giggled, the alcohol helping you feel way better about the situation, and happy to know paul looked more hung up over it than you were, “where are they?” cassie asked, both of you spinning around to try and find out where all the boys had moved to.

you couldn’t really see anyone so you just shrugged, “we should totally go back to the bar and make them miserable.” she said suddenly and you couldn’t help the giggles that spilled over your lips at the idea, loving the idea of taking some of the power back and making paul grovel.

cassie grabbed your hand, tugging you back to the bar so the two of you could take seats at the barstools, “more shots?” she asked you and you giggled, nodding as she ordered 2 more shots for the two of you. 

as the two of you took another shot, you saw embry call coming over with a smile on his face. you’d always been fond of him and you knew cassie had a massive crush on him so he was somewhat welcome company. you made sure to remind yourself that he was one of the people that had presumably encouraged paul to break-up with you as he got over to the two of you. 

“y/n! cassie!” embry exclaimed, pulling you into an awkward hug from your seated spot on the barstool, “how are you? i heard about everything.” he asked softly, squeezing you extra tight for a moment before releasing you so you could respond to him. 

“‘m okay.” you explained, offering him a small smile, “i miss him but i’m okay.” you clarified, doing your best to not let your emotions get the best of you, figuring that paul was within earshot even though you couldn’t see him. 

“did he tell you anything?” cassie asked embry, impatiently waiting for his response as she ordered yet another round of shots for all 3 of you. 

embry shrugged, “i think he regrets it if that helps anything. probably gonna come over here and talk with you soon just as a heads-up though.” he explained and you and cassie both burst into a fit of giggles over how stupid it was.

“are you serious? he broke up with me over text and immediately regrets it 2 days later? that is the most paul lahote decision i’ve ever heard of.” you giggled, rolling your eyes at the stupidity of the whole thing. embry just chuckled, nodding in agreement. 

“tell me about it.” he rolled his eyes, “make him beg for it though, would you?” he asked teasingly and you nodded, pulling him into a hug before letting him go so he could hug cassie. 

cassie was beaming at you over his shoulder, “you mind if i steal cassie for a dance?” embry asked you teasingly and you shook your head, smiling at the two of them.

“‘course not. have fun cassie.” you giggled when she smiled at you, quickly taking embry’s hand and dragging him onto the dancefloor. 

you relaxed against the bar, sipping at your drink as you patiently waited for paul to get the nerve to come over and talk to you. considering how cocky he normally was, you expect the wait to be much shorter than it actually ended up being.

about 10 minutes later you saw him get up and head over to you, only taking a few moments before he was standing in front of you, “paul,” you said casually, looking up at him as you sipped at your drink.

“i’m sorry.” he said softly, eyes softening as he scanned your features. 

you sighed, not particularly interested in caving so quickly, “you’re sorry?” you asked nonchalantly, stirring your drink as you waited for him to respond. 

he nodded, “really sorry.” he said softly and you giggled, shaking your head at him as you set your drink down on the bar behind you, grabbing your phone to pull up the text he had sent you 2 days prior.

“you said, and i quote, ‘i know this isn’t what you want to hear but i can’t have you talking to me ever again. i’m not good for you and need to focus on myself.’” you read the text before locking your phone and setting it back on the bar as you waited for his response.

he looked like a deer caught in headlights, clearly not sure what to do, “so you break up with me, over text might i add, after dating me for 3 years, and then change your mind less than 3 days later and expect me to just take you back? do you think i have zero self-respect or something?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him, allowing him a moment to think about his response.

he sighed, “can you come back to my place? i promise i can explain-” he started and you shook your head, not having any interest in going back to his place.

“i’m not going anywhere with you lahote.” you rolled your eyes, “and fucking me isn’t gonna make me magically change my mind about how i feel about you spontaneously breaking up with me after a 3-year relationship.” you added casually, grabbing your drink to take another sip of it.

he sighed again, “i’m not trying to fuck you. i promise - i just - please? i can explain if you just come with me.” he said, sounding more desperate and frustrated than you’d ever really seen him before.

you couldn’t deny the way your heart was tugging at you, begging you to go with him, “fine.” you conceded, “but i swear to god if you put your hands on me when we get there i’m leaving.” you added, grabbing your phone and hopping off the barstool to go to his car.

“i won’t.” he reassured, he followed you out to his car, only placing his hand on your lower back for a moment to help guide you through the crowd of people before removing it.

once you got into the car and he started driving back to his place, you broke the silence, “so what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked, looking over at him, the alcohol giving you a little more courage to be bolder with him than you normally would’ve been, “like seriously? a text paul? we dated for 3 years and you break up with me over text?” you added and he just sighed.

“‘m sorry it was a mistake.” he explained softly, clearly doing his best to not add fuel to your fire.

“‘s a fuckin’ dumb idea is what it was.” you grumbled, leaning away from him so you could rest your head against the window as he pulled up to his apartment complex. 

lucky for you, he shared an apartment with embry who was still at the club so it sounded like you two would have the space to yourselves to duke it out.

the walk into his apartment was silent, you only breaking the silence once paul had closed the door behind him, “this better be a good explanation.” you said, leaning up against the island in his kitchen as you looked him up and down dramatically.

he sighed, running his hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to explain himself to you, “you know about the quileute legends right?” he asked and you nodded slowly, not totally sure where he was going with this.

“like how we used to be able to shapeshift into wolves?” he asked and you scrunched your eyebrows together, nodding.

“okay i swear to god if you’re about to gaslight me into thinking you’re a werewolf-” you started, leaning off the counter, about to head out when paul grabbed your biceps, stopping you from moving.

instead of shoving him off of you, the two of you paused for a moment, just taking each other in, “i’m not lying to you. can you just-” he started, letting out a sigh, “can you just sit down and i can show you?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice and you slowly nodded, taking a seat at one of the chairs at the kitchen table once he released you.

you watched him wearily as he pulled his shirt off, dramatically covering your eyes when you realized he was most definitely stripping in front of you. you swore you could hear him sigh at your drama, but as soon as you lowered your hand there was a wolf about two times the size of you standing in front of you.

you froze, not at all sure what the hell was going on, just staring at him. from his eyes you could easily tell it was paul, watching as he laid down at your feet, resting his head on his paws. 

“what the fuck…” you groaned, wondering how the hell you missed that your (ex) boyfriend was a massive werewolf, “okay, fuck,” you groaned. “i believe you.” you sighed, getting up to get yourself a glass of water to calm yourself down while paul shifted back to his human self. 

when you turned back around, paul was leaned up against the kitchen island having just pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, “so you broke up with me because you’re a werewolf?” you asked, sitting down at the kitchen table again, looking up at him.

he nodded, “sam said i couldn’t tell you.” he explained, pulling out the chair next to you so he could sit beside you. 

“and now you can because…?” you trailed off, not sure why sam uley suddenly changed his mind less than 3 days after he supposedly told paul to cut you off.

“you’re my imprint.” he explained and you groaned, vaguely knowing what he meant from the few council meetings you had attended where they went over the legends. 

“so you broke up with me, your supposed soulmate, over text might i add, and only realized it once you actually imprinted on me? how shitty is that?” you started, rolling your eyes as you took a sip of your water, “i knew i’d love you for the rest of my life before you imprinted on me. i didn’t need you to imprint on me to know that.” you added, frowning at him as your eyes welled with tears.

you forced yourself to drink more water so you could get rid of the tears as quickly as possible while you waited for paul’s response. his eyes just softened as he watched you, “i’m sorry.” he murmured, “believe me i didn’t want to break up with you.” he explained.

you just sighed, slumping back into the chair, “of course you didn’t.” you grumbled, taking another sip of the water, “so you’re now stuck pining after me for the rest of your life?” you asked him, smiling a bit to yourself when he nodded.

“you know how fucked up it is that i can’t even stay mad at you because of this stupid bond you got us both in now?” you asked, no real malice in your voice, instead just a bit of sadness.

paul frowned, “‘m sorry.” he murmured again, “i would say i wish it wasn’t you but that’d be a lie.” he added softly and you sighed, bottom lip warbling as you took in his words.

before he could see you burst into tears, you set the glass of water down and quickly climbed into his lap, wrapping yourself around him and hugging him tightly to you as you sobbed into his shoulder. it took paul a moment to register what you’d done but when he did, he quickly slid his arms around you, holding you close to him, and gently ran his hands up and down your back soothingly, wordlessly comforting you.

“‘m so sorry princess.” he murmured against your hair as your sobs died down after a few minutes. you sniffled, holding him close to you and you focused on attempting to even your breathing out and calm yourself down enough to talk to him. 

“you’re okay, you’re okay.” paul cooed, pressing his lips to your hair as you took some deep breaths.

“i love you.” you whispered, whimpering as you looked up at him and cupped his face in your hands, “please don’t make my hurt heart like that again.” you added softly and he nodded.

“promise i won’t.” he murmured and you pressed your lips to his, holding him close to you as the two of you melted into the kiss.

paul slid his hands down to your hips as you knotted your fingers in his hair, only parting a few moments later when you needed to catch your breath, “i want you to stay here tonight.” he whispered and you nodded, pressing your lips to his again as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him before laying you down on his bed. 

you whimpered, tugging him down on top of you, quickly running your hands under his shirt and across his abdomen. he ran his hands down your sides, tugging your shorts off and sighing when he saw how good you looked in just the lingerie top you were wearing. 

“fuck me,” he groaned, carefully taking it and your panties off of you, knowing how upset you’d be with him if he ripped it off like he wanted to. you whined, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, impatient with his slow pace which had him letting out a breathy laugh. 

“‘m coming princess.” he reassured, tugging his shirt off and kicking his sweatpants and boxers to the side a few seconds later. you spread your legs, allowing him to climb between them and press his lips to yours again, letting out a loud whine when he dipped two of his fingers into your tight cunt, scissoring them to stretch out out for him, “good girl,” paul murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw as he praised you for taking his fingers so well.

“please hurry-” you whimpered, running your hand down his abdomen to grab his hardened cock and rub the weeping tip, eliciting a low groan from the male on top of you. he nodded, curling his fingers inside of you as your spread his precum around the tip, tugging him forward a bit until he was lined up with your dripping hole. 

paul chuckled softly, taking his fingers out of you and replacing your hand with his, spreading some of the fluids he had gathered from you onto his cock. you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a loud moan when he pushed himself inside of you, fully sheathing his thick length in you in one thrust. 

“paul-” you whined, running your fingers through his hair and holding onto him for dear life as he gave you a few moments to adjust to him, “please move.” you whimpered, desperate for his touch.

he didn’t need to be told twice, slowly drawing his hips back until just the tip of his cock remained, plunging back into your warm channel a moment later, quickly setting a steady pace. you were an emotional mess, holding him as tightly against you as you could while he fucked you, letting out a loud whimper when he reached his hand down to draw soft, slow circles against your clit, “such a good girl for me.” paul murmured, “fuck your pussy feels like heaven.” he groaned as he continued fucking your tight channel. 

you gasped as he pressed down on your clit, eliciting another loud whine from you as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching, “you gonna cum on my cock, kitten? my cock feel that good?” he asked, a bit of his normal cocky self coming back as he felt his own orgasm approaching right behind yours.

you nodded, “please-” you whimpered, tightening your legs around his waist and your fingers in his hair as you desperately brought him closer to you. 

paul chuckled softly, “go on. make a mess on my cock, yea? wanna feel that pretty pussy cum on me.” he teased as he felt your walls throb around him at his words. 

you didn’t need much more than his permission, letting yourself fall over the edge as he pressed down on your clit again, quickly meeting your orgasm. as you throbbed around him, he met his own release, pushing himself as deep in you as he could as he coated your walls with his seed. 

it took you a few moments for the both of you to come back to your senses, paul being the first to do so as he gently brushed your hair out of your face and slowly pulled himself out of you to lay next to you, “c’mere.” he murmured, pulling you close to his chest and allowing you to throw your leg over his waist and wrap your arms around his neck.

“don’t leave again.” you whispered blearily as you came back to your senses, eyes softening as you looked up at him.

he nodded, “promise i won’t.” he reassured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. you nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone before he got up, quickly pulling on his boxers and sweatpants before getting back into the bed with a hand towel. 

you sighed softly, allowing him to get between your legs, not needing to be told he wanted to clean you up. he already knew how irritated you’d get if you felt his release dripping out of you all night and was always quick to clean you up after sex because of it, “there you go.” he murmured as he quickly ran the rag between your sensitive folds, tossing it to the side and helping you into a new pair of panties and one of his t-shirts before getting back into bed with you.

you quickly curled into his arms, holding him close to you, “i love you.” he murmured against your hair and you nodded, smiling softly up at him, “i love you too.” 

[madeinparadis]

LONG ENOUGH | DAVIN MCDERBY

pairing: davin mcderby × reader

cw: friends to lovers, smut, brief pining & fear of rejection if you squint. MDNI

word count: 2.8k

masterlist: all characters

a/n: this is an improved version of the fic i posted on ao3, so it's a bit longer than the og, but in both i disregarded the whole deadbeat dad situation davin had going on in the movie (whoops). still, this is definitely lighter and easier going than my previous works, even if it's not my favourite so far.

Davin had already grown used to people– mostly bitter old ones– telling him what he did or didn't feel, how he should or shouldn't act, and so on. He was used to it. So why did it aggravate him so much to hear his roommate force his own, very biased and sour, opinion down his throat?

"I'm telling you, lad, all chicks are the same," his roommate, Pat, for whom he had been gradually growing a silent dislike, interrupted him again. "you'll get over her by the time summer's done! Stop being so sappy!"

Oh, that was it. He was done for.

"How about you shut up, eh? You don't even know her!" the volume of Davin's voice rose unconsciously. "All you do is sit there and complain about your failed attempts at shagging girls you meet at house parties! Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe I actually have a life?" he completed, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks as the anger made the blood in his face pulse with might.

Pat was left speechless for a good minute. He looked flabbergasted, clearly not having expected such a reaction from the ever-so-nonchalant Davin he always joked around with. A wave of embarrassment quickly hit him at the realisation that he had crossed a big line, but pride was even quicker to take over.

"If I'm such a pitiful bastard, why don't you do us a favour and leave then!" Pat bit back, his tone loaded with the grudge he was holding against his roommate, and it made Davin just as impulsive with his reply.

"I just might, you asshole!" he yelled, quickly slamming the door before storming out of the apartment complex perplexed. Did he go that far for a girl? For you, that is?

He had to see you now. Realisation hit him like a truck. He liked you, but not just like any other– he was falling for you, hard enough to the point where no one could tell him otherwise– because he knew you were worth the hassle, and anyone who had the fortune of seeing you should feel the same as well. Besides, he needed a place to crash now.

You woke up from your accidental nap, suddenly hearing a sound coming from your window, scared that someone might be trying to break into the seemingly empty house. You quickly got up from your desk, your temple slightly red from where your head rested against the wood, only to be met with a very familiar face.

"Davin? What the fuck are you doing here?" you whispered loudly, your brows furrowed in confusion as you opened the window for him to come into the room.

"Sorry, sorry, I know it's late..." he began explaining, holding his hands up in the air. "But I'm kinda homeless right now–" he continued, before being interrupted abruptly by an even more shocked you.

"What do you mean you're homeless, Davin?! What'd you do this time?"

Unbelievable, you thought. Homeless? You knew that Davin had a rather troublesome habit of getting up to no good, but him becoming homeless in the middle of the summer was not a possibility you had fathomed.

Davin sat on the bed, following after you. "I fought with my roommate, Pat. He told me to leave, so I did."

Your expression softened as you listened to his explanation. "What did you guys fight over, anyway?" you questioned him, but his reply was rather dull.

"Oh, just normal stuff, you know..."

You were left puzzled, but decided to let him be. "Alright, I won't pry. Let me get you a towel for you to take a shower– you are not sleeping in my room all sweaty."

The walk downstairs was rather quiet. You went to the laundry room by yourself, hoping to find one of your housemates to check if you could, in fact, let Davin crash. You knew the room was yours, but you still wanted to be sure. Luckily, on your way back upstairs, you bumped into your housemate Linda, who reassured you and told you it was completely fine to let your 'friend' stay over, especially since the other two girls were going to be out and about until tomorrow morning.

You hesitated before opening the door, thinking about your conversation with Davin. You said you wouldn't pry, but shouldn't you? He acted as if he were fine, but you could tell there was a hidden distress in his tone. Nonetheless, it was getting late, and he needed to shower before going to bed; how you two would manage your sleeping area was a problem for later. You turned the doorknob gently, letting yourself in again, and... shit.

Davin had fallen asleep already. Oh well, you'd just change the sheets tomorrow; the true issue was the fact that he slept like a rock, so your space would be... limited, to say the least.

You got into bed yourself, careful not to wake him up, and you noticed something– the cool facade that was once held in his face melted sometime during his sleep, being replaced now by a slightly mellow yet calm expression.

Cute, you thought, letting your eyes fall shut and feeling a dreamless slumber wash over you.

The clock read 4:52 the moment you woke up. Your... bedmate, however, was still fast asleep, his right arm resting on your torso comfortably as he slept peacefully, quiet snores leaving his soft pink lips every once in a while. Who were you to push him away? It's not like you wanted to in the first place.

You couldn't help but admire the scene in front of you. Saying Davin was handsome, in your case, would be an understatement– you were completely smitten with the reckless young man, even though you'd take that statement with you to the grave. Looking won't hurt, though, you thought to yourself. And, oh boy, did you look.

His hair was slightly ruffled from sleep, the moonlight illuminating the orange strands that tickled your neck whenever your chest rose up full of oxygen. His face was relaxed and half illuminated by the twilight, his mouth slightly agape while he breathed in and out, soft snores reverberating in the room.

Your fingers were lightly caressing his hair, and his body rested on yours– everything about this moment was so serene that you wish you could stretch it out for as long as possible. Perhaps in your dreams you would have. Sleep was coming to you again, whisking you away from this sweet moment- you could almost taste the metaphorical honey on your tongue as you drifted off for the second time, just before sunrise.

The morning went by, and the afternoon was nearing. Davin finally arose from his deep slumber and quickly took notice of the predicament you were both in– limbs completely tangled, his face lodged in the crook of your neck, and his right arm draped over your waist protectively. This would be lovely if it weren't one thing... You two were not together, and he was pretty positive that you did not want to change that situation.

As if this kettle of fish couldn't get any worse for him, you started to slowly open your eyes and shift around, tangling your legs even further. "Hey, so could you, y'know..." he muttered, visibly uncomfortable now, not knowing what to do.

"What..?" you were still sleepy, confused at what he was hinting at, until you felt his body on yours. "Oh, shit!" your cheeks turned bright red, and you untangled your legs from Davin's in record time, even though you weren't really bothered by it to begin with. The two of you were both lying on your backs now, the ceiling fan suddenly becoming incredibly interesting.

As awkward as it was, this moment forced a minute of reflection for you both.

During the past few weeks you had spent with your friends here in Montauk, there hasn't been a day where Davin hasn't crossed your mind at least once since you met him in the beginning of your stay. He was unbelievably handsome in your eyes, and you had caught yourself getting lost in his eyes more often than you'd like to admit.

But he was also trouble. It was clear to you after just a few minutes of chatting with him at the bar– that boy was here to live almost everyday like it was the last, and you couldn't keep up with that, no way. Yet you couldn't stay away, and he knew it as much as you. You always ended up finding each other unintentionally, and would then spend the rest of the day or night together. You went around sharing drinks at the bar, walking side by side on the beach, cracking jokes and having long talks in his car as he gave you a ride back home, sometimes sharing a kiss here and there after having a bit too much alcohol. However, you never went below the tip of the iceberg, that was the unspoken rule– keep it at surface level, never deeper than that.

You stopped your racing thoughts, reaching a conclusion– this, whatever it was, was unbearable. Fuck the unspoken agreements and tensions, you had to say something or you'd go mental.

"Do you like me, Davin?" you finally broke the silence with your question.

"What?" he looked at you confused.

"Do you like me?"

Davin froze completely. For someone who quite literally went homeless for a whole night defending his feelings for you, he sure as hell couldn't talk above them like that was the case, cowardice taking over his senses. But no, he couldn't chicken out– not now. He came to your place last night to tell you that he couldn't keep this game of rat and mouse anymore; he had to do something.

So his solution was to roll on top of you and slam his lips on yours impulsively, hoping that the passion in his actions would convey the answer to your question. You gasped before kissing him back, surprised that you make Davin go away with your inquiring. So much for keeping things at surface level.

The hands that were once resting near your head were now wandering lower and lower, getting closer to your hips and upper thighs. Before they went any further, you guided Davin's face gently with your hands, making his eyes meet yours.

"What are we?" It was always you and your questions.

"I dunno, what do you want us to be?"

Smartass, you thought.

"Don't dodge the question," you retorted.

"Well, do you want us to be together? Y'know, dating and all," he looked serious for once, which surprised you for a moment.

"I do," you smiled at him, bringing his face close and kissing him feverishly, allowing him to get back to his ministrations.

Davin's hands roamed around your body as he explored you, quickly discarding your top, something he thought about doing rather often. You laughed a little as he ghosted over your ribs, touching your ticklish spot before you intervened.

"I think you have way too many clothes on, don't you?" you said playfully, which earned a playful laugh from him– it was true, so he let you drag his white t-shirt off his torso and undo his belt for him. Davin took a moment to admire your focus, and the smile you gave him once you were done– a tender nature for the carnal act you two were about to get into.

His touch made you feel feverish, lust taking over your brain and dictating your words and movements. Your hips buckled against his thigh as you chased some form of friction, low whines coming out of your mouth like a plea for action– one which Davin did not ignore, smirking at your antics before sliding your bottoms off in a swift motion, revealing your bare cunt for him to observe. He took a moment to drink in the sight before his eyes until he couldn't suppress his urges any longer.

He lapped at your folds hungrily, savouring your arousal as he felt the tension in his own trousers increase, low moans escaping his throat and vibrating on your sensitive skin. You felt him drink you up like a starving man as he sloppily worked up your most sensitive spots, eliciting whines and pleas from you for more and more of what he was giving you.

With the eager efforts you received, it wasn't hard for you to feel as if you were drowning in pleasure, your high coming closer and closer. Even in a not very logical state, you were aware of your partner's own neediness, grinding his hips into the bed almost unconsciously, seeking someone form of release for his own aching, his subtle moans delivering vibrations to your clit every now and then. Observing his behaviour, you tugged at his hair, making him look at you just like you did earlier– that could easily become a habit for you.

"You can take your time later– just fuck me right now, please." you pleaded, feeling your own longing to be filled by him. The nod you received indicated that you were understood.

Davin was quick to get himself out of his trousers, throwing them somewhere on the floor, his boxers following soon after. His cock was finally out in display for you to see– girthy, flushed and leaking precum already. Noticing your fixed gaze, he looked up at you.

"Like what you see?" He asked, laughing as a way pretend that your admiration wasn't inflating his ego bit by bit.

"Yes." You confessed, no shame in your admission. After all, what was the sense in having shame at this point?

Smoothly, Davin dragged his cock against your folds, gathering up your slick before going inside you. The initial stretch you felt was pure bliss, ecstasy running through your veins with each inch that went deeper in your velvety walls. Your nails maimed his back, drawing crescent shapes on his shoulder blades while your whines and moans hit the bedroom walls and his ears.

"Fuck, you're tight," Davin couldn't help but groan in your ear. His thrusts were fast, aiming at the sensitive spot in your walls, riling you up as he chased his own pleasure.

"I'm so close– baby, please..." you whined incessantly, desperate for your release to come. You heard Davin say something along the lines of 'just a little more', which you barely registered, your mind foggy with pleasure.

You could feel his touches all over your body– his hands slithered along your hips, your waist, and stopped at the swell of your breasts while his lips kissed and suckled on the curve of your neck. You felt the assaults to your core getting sloppier, signaling that Davin was close. But before even saying a word, his hands moved over your breasts, one playing with your right nipple while the other lazily massaged your left boob. His thought-out actions caused whines to fall from your lips, your cunt clenching and dripping as you felt your climax right around the corner.

Suddenly, you felt the hand that was playing with your nipple travel down to your clit. He started drawing circles with his thumb on the bundle of nerves, and that was it for you– your orgasm washed over you like the strongest of waves, rocking you out of your senses, clouding your vision and tensioning all your muscles before relaxing you profoundly. You took a minute to come back to reality, whimpering as you felt Davin continue to thrust into your pussy with desperation, seeking his own orgasm.

It didn't feel like a long time before you heard a grunt coming from him, and he pulled out of you, painting your bare stomach and tits with his cum. He collapsed next to you, remaining silent as he watched you collect his release with your fingers before sucking on them, letting out an audible pop sound when you were done.

"You're amazing..." he muttered, in awe of the little show you had just put on for him.

"Only a little," you giggled, shifting yourself to hug his torso as you decompressed after the events of this morning. You pulled the bedsheets back over your bodies, ceasing the goosebumps that tickled your skin. Davin's heavy breaths were the only noise filling the room– there was a comfortable silence established, only to be broken by him;

"Took us long enough, eh?"

You both giggled at the honesty in his statement. It truly was a long wait, but definitely a worthy one.

[rabbit-surfboard]

Fictional podcast recs

One of my friends got into audio drama and I just sent them a whole list of recommendations to go through, I thought someone who follows these tags might also appreciate it and perhaps have some more to throw in. I resisted the urge to throw in the little blurb about audio dramas as a weird little medium and their tropes that I wrote up. It was something to the effect of nodding at how the medium has rapidly been improving since Welcome to Nightvale started, also how a lot of the tropes that tie the medium together are products of the indie podcast scene being accessible and primarily based in audio. Also at how well horror works in the format. Those paragraphs went unsaved but writing first about the medium in general helped me to reflect on a lot of the things that make audiodramas appealing or repulsive to me for discussing each show in brief beyond just explaining what they're about.

All recommendations are tagged for the tldr.

Fiction podcast recommendations in no particular order:

The Magnus Archives

Horror

The biggest criticism I ever had of this podcast’s voice acting from episode 1 turned out to be a relevant plot point. This thing is probably the best of the best, but I would never recommend it to someone unfamiliar with podcasts because the listener only notices a plot hook somewhere between episodes 20-40 and that’s daunting in the face of a 200 episode show. Getting sucked in rewards you with 200 episodes of thoughtful content and a great explanation for most of the weird things this show chooses to incorporate.

Old Gods of Appalachia

Horror

Fantastic production quality on this ongoing show. Many seasons with interconnected lore and a hell of a narrator. It’s not my personal favorite but it’s quite excellent.

Red Valley

Found footage mystery

One of the newer shows I’ve gotten into, Red Valley is well-crafted. It becomes compelling very quickly with a rapid pace that slows down to land in a neat spot for a while so you can savor the cool parts. The production quality is excellent and the two main voice actors have excellent chemistry. The third and final season is currently being produced.

The Silt Verses

Horror

Often compared to American Gods, this newer podcast made by an experienced team is doing a lot of creative and fresh things at once. The magnificently fucked up religious system of The Silt Verses is both a neat plot vehicle and cleanly works as a criticism of late stage capitalism, where many podcasts like to jab at capitalism this one is much more pointed in its commentary. Episodes are long and very well produced. All the credits in the third season have been mostly diegetic and add flavor to the world.

Archive 81

Found footage horror

Slow to start but by season 2 the production quality and plot are among the best in the game. Unfortunately, on an extended hiatus.

Ars Paradoxica

Science fiction, historical

Very well produced considering its age, this is a highly regarded show among people who follow the medium. Excellent time travel mechanics here. The plot drags a bit by the end because time travel stories must violently contort themselves into a conclusion, but the first season or two are fantastic and it’s always nice to have an ending instead of interminable hiatus.

Caravan

Gay demons n stuff

Showed up, did magic and gay shit, disappeared and went on hiatus probably with some kinda unsatisfying cliffhanger seeing as I don’t remember the plot. Could I recommend it in good faith? Not until they at least cough up season 2. I don’t remember it being bad and that alone is notable for the medium.

Mabel

Gothic horror

This is the deepest cut on the list except for maybe Caravan. Lesbians pine at each other for increasingly complicated reasons, eventually devolving into them doing datura and then spewing cryptic poetry together for the rest of their days. The production quality is fair. The slow windup and creepy house are American-gothic af. This show has had a few hiatuses, but each time it comes back significantly more intriguing.

Welcome to Nightvale

Goofy spooky news broadcast

Old and iconic, not very consistent. Sometimes explores emotional, tense, spooky, or funny scenes well, but the show is really focused on being local news for an ooky spooky desert town because Cecil is damn good at his job. Don’t come here looking for plot, it’s a fun vibe and I don’t know that anybody’s ripped it off and notably improved on this classic. Above average production quality for its time which improved through the years.

Alice isn’t Dead

USA road trip, horror

Made by at least one of the Nightvale writers, totally different show with a lesbian trucker making wry observations of some magnificently twisted shit seen around the United States. The producers know how to run a show, so the production is pretty good.

Tanis

Found footage horror

Tanis is not good. However, it was the first fiction podcast to make me ask “Is this real?” and hesitantly believe it for a frankly embarrassing number of episodes. The stories in the first season were interesting and the lore is just some big-tent conspiracy style of cramming a bunch of fun Wikipedia research into what turns out to be an increasingly nonsensical plot. Every season after the second, I return to hate-listen and am gaslit into thinking the show might low-key rock a few episodes before the finale, which is routinely frustrating and makes sure to throw out any good plot points Terry Miles comes up with. The acting is routinely terrible, and the frame narrative allows lazy and frequent retcons, ruining what I think is a good premise. Also it’s incomplete.

The Black Tapes

Horror

Terry Miles started this show before Tanis began releasing about 5 months later. I think of it as one of his earlier works because it behaves like Tanis with an added layer of cringe from a time waster of an awkward romance(?) between the two main characters. I couldn’t finish this show. You won’t see this recommended as often as it used to be online because there’s many better shows now, but this used to be a big deal. There’s a bunch of memes making fun of the annoying cadence of the characters’ speech and iconic sponsorship reads in both this and Tanis. If you’re interested in some cringe atop your creepypasta podcast, the two are interchangeable.  

Rabbits

ARG investigation

Not as horror focused as Terry Miles’ other shows, the cringe is dialed down and the show is better for it. Tanis and The Black Tapes are more well known, I think the only reason more people don’t think about this one is because the first two don’t inspire trust in the production or narrative quality of this show, but I remember it being fine for a season. I have not gone back to catch up now that more is out.

Malevolent

Horror

Inspired by The King in Yellow, one man performs two voices and verbally abuses himself with aplomb. Having a blind main character with an extra voice in his head is a frame story I haven’t heard yet (unless it came up in the magnus archives and I don’t remember), the concept works out great for the frame of a podcast to deploy the environmental imagery that foley cannot communicate. It also prevents the podcast trope of lengthy exposition about visual surroundings from sounding awkward or potentially impacting someone’s character development to show setting.

Wolf 359

Comedy, science fiction

A crew of whacky characters is stuck in deep space, hanging out and researching a star. Since that’s not actually very interesting they crack jokes and fuck around for a slow burn until interesting stuff happens. Good but not great, this one is long and satisfying and a bit less heavy than all the horror this medium often focuses on. Decent production quality.

The White Vault

Found footage horror

I lost patience with this podcast even though the overarching story seemed very cool – it progresses very slowly yet appears to grow bigger and more confusing instead of deigning to answer basic questions for a frustratingly long drag through the first four seasons. I worry that this frustration may be the point and the Patreon gated stories are the drivers for this tendency towards the confusing patchwork of ideas this show communicates. The production quality is good though.

The Left Right Game

Found footage horror

Genuinely great reddit creepypasta got turned into an overproduced podcast – I say “over” in comparison to the voice acting quality because it’s kind of impossible to sell some of the lines, which makes sense considering the source. Brief, complete, punchy, interesting, and just a little odd to hear such a clean production but a creepypasta this fun deserves the effort.

Wooden Overcoats

Comedy

Surprisingly good production quality for its age, and also a refresher from the usual tropes of the medium. Just a chill sitcom about a funeral parlor in a small town. I haven’t finished this 4 season show yet but its good.

The Black List Table Reads

Movie script readings

Some movie scripts just short of making the cut to be turned into a full Hollywood production were well liked enough by a group of film nerds that sat down to act them out as a podcast. Half of the episodes are interviews with screenwriters, and the other half see a script read all the way through by actors. They’re all rejected for different reasons so there’s a pretty broad spread of genres. My favorites were Blood From a Stone and Balls Out.

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Choglaem

First, it seems that Tumblr's search function is flawed in such a way that just searching the tag doesn't actually get all of the results. So if you drew something for this round and it's not in this post, let me know and I'll put it in a reblog. Same applies to previous (and future) rounds.

Anyway, it's now time to look at the results for the Choglaem! Anyone who doesn't know what that means is encouraged to look at previous posts in this series, collected at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .

And here's the link to the entry people are working from:

Now, let's get into it. As before, these are presented roughly in the order that people posted them. (I'm going to go through the tag on Tumblr's regular search, then again on the alternate search method someone suggested, so any that only show up on the alternate source are going to be at the end.)

@embervoices (link to post here) decided to show that the Choglaem is bigger than all living things on the earth by... having it fight Godzilla. Perfect. Inspired. Love it. No notes.

@mobileleprechaun (link to post) has helpfully labelled their drawing for us, which I enjoy. Also the interpretation that the tongue through the blowhole is a lure used by an underwater predator is a good one -- honestly, putting something this large in the water just feels more plausible, you know? In their tags, mobileleprechaun describes this as "sort of a dinosaur snake tsuchinoko", and I had to Google that last one, so let me show you the best result from that ...

(If anyone else needed that word defined, it's a creature from Japanese folklore that does actually look a lot like a fat snake, but I'm pretty sure it's not just a fat snake. There's a (disappointingly brief) Wikipedia article about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsuchinoko)

Anyway, the drawing is great! I have no idea why Saddam Hussein is there; you'll have to ask mobileleprechaun.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has given her Choglaem wings to aid in causing the air to become turbulent. The medieval stylization is pretty dead-on, I have to say; I swear I've seen those trees before. And I think this Choglaem may actually be the closest to the drawing in the Aberdeen Bestiary out of all the submissions we got, so coolest-capybara is clearly quite good at thinking like a medieval artist. The post linked above contains a brief explanation of her design choices and also a link to the medieval illustration that elephant is based on.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has once more done a very realistic-looking depiction of this week's beaſt. According to their post, part of their inspiration was an oarfish -- and I have to say this is pretty believable as a terrestrial version of an oarfish, so well done. I'm impressed by this one, which manages to look cool and dangerous but also kinda cute -- I think the tongue-through-the-blowhole part of the description makes all of them look a bit goofy in an endearing sort of way. The post linked above describes their design decisions, including a brief diversion over round pupils vs. slit pupils in snakes.

Silverhart also mentions that the nonsense-names I'm using sound like the names of mythical animals in a fantasy novel, so I feel I should confess what my process for randomly generating these names was. I've got a Goblin conlang that's been sitting in my pile of works-in-progress for years; I just fed the phonology from that into Zompist's gen program (link here), then picked out several dozen of my favorite results. So that's why they sound like kinda-plausible words.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has drawn us a Choglaem who is having problems. Or, I don't know, maybe it meant to knot itself up like that; who am I to judge? Either way I think it's cute. Just look at that face. A brief overview of her design decisions is included in the linked post; I think the chicken crest is a pretty sensible call given the source material.

@pomrania (link to post here) has made some creative choices with their version. I like how they've decided that if the Choglaem kills with its tail, the tail should have something at the end rather than just... you know. A tail. That tracks. "The tail ends in a fist", specifically, however, was not something I saw coming. The crest looking like an emo hairstyle is funny, I think, and the angry elephant is great. The expression on the Choglaem's face is suspect to me; it looks like it's having too much fun with this. The linked post above includes an early draft, and itself links to a post with a detailed account of the artist's thought process and some additional sketches.

@miapcain (link to post here) has... wait, hold on, look at that border. That's gorgeous. Had to acknowledge that before moving to the inside of the frame. Anyway, Mia has given her Choglaem legs, which might seem odd for something described as a "snake", but actually isn't out of the ordinary for a medieval bestiary -- the authors tended to play a bit more fast and loose with their categorization of animals than we do today, and there are indeed examples of animals with legs being called "serpents" or "snakes". (I assume the artist knows this, I just want to share that with the rest of the audience.) Anyway, the drawing style is great; I like the stylized landscape and the muted colors. That elephant is definitely modeled after a medieval elephant -- I swear I've seen it before -- but I couldn't tell you which one offhand. Anyway. Love the vibes here. Not sure why the tongue is a vine, but it's a cool design feature.

@rautavaara (link to post here) has gone an entirely different direction with this one, and I can kind of see the steps. Snakelike creature, kills with its tail... what if the tail it kills with is a snake. As a result, we have this chimeric "bovid-lion-snake beast", as the artist describes. It definitely stands out from the crowd, and looks menacing as hell. Rautavaara continues with the cool frames and stylization, and I continue to appreciate them. Kind of an art-deco feel on this one.

@karthara (link to post here) gives us a big snake with a somewhat aquatic-looking fin-crest, grappling with an elephant in a very believable manner. That is a quality depiction of a snake fighting an elephant, no mistake. And like I said before, a kind of aquatic look feels right for something this big. The linked post contains a short description of the design decisions.

@gradling (link to post here) apparently also had the thought of "if it kills with its tail there should be something dangerous on the tail", and made the excellent decision to give the Choglaem a thagomizer. That's amazing and I love it. The crest also looks quite good. I don't have anything else to add here. Thagomizer. Brilliant.

@moustawott (link to post here) has done this very cool, kind of celestial-looking Choglaem. I like that its pose is evoking an infinity symbol. And, of course, it is in its natural habitat:

the skies

A brief explanation of design choices can be found in the post linked above.

@treesurface (link to post here) has managed to really evoke the size of this thing even though it's the only thing on the page, which I think is quite good. Also, the brief discussion of their design choices in the post linked is pretty interesting, and honestly that's what I want to highlight for this piece, so go check that out.

@scarlettbookworm (link to post here) has given us an elephant apparently in the moment when it realizes it's about to be attacked by a Choglaem. In order to allow their Choglaem to lurk despite its size, they've given it camo-pattern scales, which I think is clever. There's a pretty good explanation of their design choices in the linked post, which I think is worth reading.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) apparently did this with a fountain pen, which I think is very cool. I like the oarfish-inspired crest, and the very menacing face, and the elephant being ambushed. However -- and I realize I've said this like three times in a row now -- you should check out the linked post to read the artist's explanation of their design decisions. They describe it pretty thoroughly and I think it's more worthwhile to read their account of what they've drawn than it is to read mine.

@strixcattus (link to post here) posted this while I was typing this round-up, so this will be the last result from Normal Tumblr Search. They've given us another "there should be something dangerous on the end of its tail" interpretation and drawn their Choglaem with an ankylosaur-style club, which I think is excellent. As per usual, their post includes an amazingly detailed modern-naturalist-style description of the animal in question, which I always enjoy. It's exactly my jam. (That bit about where the largest Choglaem lives... is that a reference to something? It feels familiar.)

All right, I'm now looking through "#choglaem" on @findtags's search system, and it is a bit different, oddly. There are fewer results than in the regular Tumblr search -- only six of the above images show up -- but it also has one that doesn't show up on the normal search! Dammit tumblr.

@hairycarrot ... whom Tumblr will not let me tag? what the hell? [edit: the tag works now that i’ve posted this, but the editor seemed to think this blog wasn’t real] um... (link to post here). Anyway, they've done this neat stylized thing that kind of looks like pastels? I don't know art, that's just what it looks like to me and I like it. I also enjoy the Choglaem being coiled up like a spring -- I know it's because it's a constrictor and showing it in coils is a good way to communicate that, but I still like the look. Very pleasant-looking depiction of an elephant being ambushed by a giant snake.

All right, time for the reveal. Here's the Aberdeen Bestiary drawing:

Yep. That snake has legs and wings. So everyone who added limbs was in an appropriately medieval mindset. It doesn't seem to have a crest, though, and I don't see any blowholes. And it's attacking with its bite more than with its tail. Honestly, I think y'all read the entry much more closely than this artist did.

But maybe they were also working with more preconceptions.

Because you see.

This is the entry for the Dragon.

Yeah, that's not what I was expecting from a bestiary description of a dragon either.

The interesting thing about it to me is that it's absolutely not what you generally see in fictional depictions of dragons in medieval literature. The bestiary entry is very firm on the idea that it's not venomous, it's a constrictor, it kills with its tail -- and most medieval dragons I've read about are highly venomous. Some of them aren't even that large; they're dangerous for their venom rather than their size. So maybe this is a bit of medieval mythbusting -- "no, guys, real dragons actually don't have venom at all".

And yes, this means there's historical precedent for the green & black dragons in D&D; dragons being so venomous they spit, breathe, or blow out poison instead of having to inject it with a bite is a pretty common motif in medieval dragon stories. I think a lot of people think of those as just variants on the classic fire-breathing version depicted by the red dragon, but actually there aren't that many fire-breathing dragons in medieval stories as far as I remember. (I would do some research on this, but I wanted to have this posted like two hours ago, so you're just getting what I remember off the top of my head instead of proper sources, sorry.) To my understanding, the classic fantasy dragon breathes fire because Smaug breathed fire. And Smaug breathed fire because the dragon in Beowulf breathed fire. But the Beowulf dragon isn't actually representative in that regard; the venom-spitting dragon is more common as far as I've seen. (No word on lightning or cold, sorry blue and white dragons.)

Anyway, there's probably room to reintroduce the constrictor dragon that kills with its tail. What colors haven't already been used up in the various monster manuals, splatbooks, &c.?

I'm rambling. End of post.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕄𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕕𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Neuvillette's s/o making a song about him and singing it with the Melusines and other Fontaine characters?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Of course! I did it only with melusines in the end so I hope you won't mind that!

Also omg, this is such a cute idea and I won't lie when I say my heart melted a bit just by imagining this. So hopefully you'll like it too!

Also I may've let my creativity carry me here-

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

As someone who loved and even made music, you simply had to make a song about your boyfriend. You spent many days thinking of perfect way to turn your feelings into music. Untill one day... one pretty rainy day in Fontaine when you were away from your partner who had to stay at work.

You've realized that something calm and slightly melancholic but with rather lovely text would suit his appearence and your feelings perfectly!

And once you've figured it all out, you just needed to decide what instruments to include to math vibe of the song. That's when you got approached by a melusine on Fontaine streets.

"Good morning Y/N! Am I right to assume you're troubled? Do you need any help?"

"No, no, I'm fine. But thank you!"

You said rather confidently and were about to leave with last goodbye but that's when you got an amazing idea!

"Actually... can I count on your help?"

The melusine approved of your idea after brief explanation, seeing it as nice way to thank Neuvilette for his hard work. Before you knew it, you had group of melusines willing to help you out. Of course some had to decline due to work but you were still satisfied with the amount of help.

You presented to them your idea on how they can sing the melody instead of using instruments and others can be background chorus. It was kind of a love song so it was only natural for you to take the leading vocalist role as Neuvilette's partner.

You practiced with melusines almost every day for this specific moment. It was past 8pm, there was almost no one in the area and yet, Neuvilette was still on his office, dealing with work.

You just knew he was tired and what better way to get him to take a break than showing up with loveliest surprise?

You and melusines got ready, even with few papers in hand to make sure no one will mistake their text and role. It may look like a job or forcing it to some, but it really wasn't! You could see from looks on their faces that they were happy to make hydro dragon's night a bit better as well.

"And 3, 2, 1..."

You counted everyone in as you saw their ready glances. As soon as "1" was said, melusines began singing melody just like planned, so you could smoothly enter first verse with the chorus supporting your singing.

Neuvilette, upon hearing the song sang by many familiar voices, couldn't help but stop working on his paper work and get up to check what's going on outside his workplace instead.

Once he left, his expression was one of pure shock but it didn't took long for it to turn into purest smile. He noticed the group you've collected and the emotions you put in singing. Not only that, whole song just put him at ease in just a small moment. So when it ended, he clapped his hands, giving all of you small applause as smile on his face was even more evident.

"That was beautiful. Thank you everyone for surprising me with such an adorable gift."

He made sure to stay polite and thank every single melusine, even inviting them for a drink. Though at the end of the day, his eyes were set on you alone. And when it was just you and him, he made sure to give you a soft kiss, figuring the meaning and effort behind this song by now.

"Thank you for preparing all of that for me. I couldn't ask for better surprise."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your otter judge!