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#noisy neighbors au
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world's most annoying man is not allowed outside due to his inability to shut up
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🎮 👯? :)
Hello, Blue!❤️✨
🎮 First Game
My very first Sonic game was actually Sonic Heroes. My mom actually introduced it to me, as well anything and everything Sonic-related. I remember seeing the biggest grin on my mom’s face when she saw a kiosk in the doctor’s office with Sonic in it. (Yes, children. Doctor offices used to have a Kiosk mounded to the wall with a game in it. I’m old). She made a comment about how she used to play Sonic games all through her college years in the 90’s and offered to play a level with me. I’m pretty sure that I’ve missed my doctor’s appointment because the two of us were playing the game.
👯 Favorite Team
I really like all of the traditional teams for specific reasons. I feel that they all bring unique personalities and experiences to the table. However, I think that it’s a tie between Team Sonic and Team Dark. I just think that they’re both neat!❤️✨
Sonic Ask Game
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kohihari-art · 2 years
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thinking about me drawing a kazuscara au i have + their apartment layouts in class for some reason ??
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junkissed · 10 months
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love thy neighbor
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member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!
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joshua should be asleep right now. 
really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 
but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.
maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.
the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.
really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 
and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.
except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.
having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 
he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.
a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.
so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.
he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.
oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)
but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)
so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 
but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 
after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.
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god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.
earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.
were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.
but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).
you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 
he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.
which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.
it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 
so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?
either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.
you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?
“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.
you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.
“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”
you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.
cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.
the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 
but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.
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when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.
of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 
pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.
unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.
he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 
on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?
on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.
if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.
in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.
joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.
but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.
he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.
he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 
but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.
but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.
so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.
hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 
he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.
he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.
okay
he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.
it’s nothing. don’t worry
joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 
so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.
you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”
finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”
he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.
“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”
“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.
“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.
you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.
“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”
you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”
“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”
“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 
he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”
“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”
“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”
“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”
his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”
“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 
joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.
“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”
he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”
you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”
“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”
“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.
now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”
“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.
“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”
you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”
his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.
you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.
“so about the walls thing—”
“hm?” he mumbles.
“—you can really hear everything?”
he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”
your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”
he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”
“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.
“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”
you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.
“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”
you pout. “that was only that one time!”
“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”
heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 
“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.
“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.
“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.
“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.
you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”
you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.
the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 
“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”
you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”
“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.
joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 
“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”
after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.
“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.
your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”
“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.
you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?
your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.
he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.
“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.
“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.
his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.
you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?
he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.
“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”
you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.
and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.
even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 
with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.
“joshua?”
“mhm?”
“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.
he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.
even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 
laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 
but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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merokado · 4 months
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CHRONICALLY ONLINE!
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hey, you've reached suna. leave a message at the beep.
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after a week straight of being holed up in the dorm working on your finals, with an annoyingly noisy next-door neighbor at that, you're finally out at a party. with the stress of piling assignments, deadly deadlines, and an infuriating neighbor who you've endlessly tried to confront but somehow have never seen the face of — it was time to get drunk. usually, the more alcohol you drink, the more single you feel; you're blackout drunk. now flirting with the guy you've been eyeing the whole night, everything's going well. but why does his voice sound so familiar?
pairing: suna rintarou x f!reader
status: ongoing (started may 31, 2024)
genre: 18+ romance, smau + written
tags: social media au, college au, strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers (???), crack, fluff, angst, smut if i feel like it
warnings: swearing, alcohol, drug use (marijuana), suggestive and sexual themes
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taglist is open! comment to be tagged :)
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profiles:
art students (and atsumu) | Freaky Singles Looking For Love (18+)
teasers:
semi's gig | where's bo taking us this time?
the setup.
01. hashtag pregame
02. a breath of fresh...vodka
03. that was me last night?
04. regrets, regrets, and more regrets
05. a user wants to send you a message
06. that was you the other night?
07.
08.
09.
10.
the confrontation.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
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☆ mera's mail ! hey divas this is my first actual smau (but i've always wanted to make one lol!) i've regressed into my 2020-2022 haikyuu phase and i've been trying to look for smaus to no avail ... so i decided to make my own instead because i'm self-indulgent like that. ALSO the cover photo for this took me an egregious amount of time because i had to start over so i hope y'all like it. recommend some series' you think i'd enjoy! you can send me questions, suggestions, etc. in my ask too. i am also very open to moots mwahahah
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lizzy06 · 1 month
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Shouta Aizawa Fics Recs!!(Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)
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My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist
Shouta Aizawa x Reader
FIVE TIMES ✨by @damnzawa (oneshot, fluff) In which the faculty at U.A. — ehem Present Mic and Midnight — and 1-A tried to get the two of them together, only to find out they were together all along.
How Convenient by mighty-mighty-man (Pair_Up)(oneshot, humor(?))The night shift at the convenience store was going so well. You got to hear some good tunes, you made a sale, you made conversation with a handsome hero. But then a robber shows up. [COMPLETED]
Lazy Egg ✨✨by mighty-mighty-man (Pair_Up) (slice of life, fluff)You work at an animal shelter.When Aizawa Shouta adopts your favorite cat, your lives become inexplicably intertwined. And strangely enough, it all seems to be for the better.[COMPLETED]
“did he steal two babies?”✨ by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which you’re aizawa’s secret wife, aizawa gets a call in the middle of class that you’re going into labor and eventually leaves, the class being noisy pricks follows him to a hospital, feeling worried they continue to follow until they see him holding two babies with a smile at his new family. [COMPLETED]
Victory by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff) Just a fluffy story about you and your husband. [COMPLETED]
Chocolate hearts✨ by LetheSomething  (fluff, sloeburn, angst, serial killers)A group of villains calling themselves the Valentine Killers are going around murdering people.Their target? Pro hero loved ones. Aizawa Shouta is utterly convinced he has nothing to worry about. He's wrong. [COMPLETED]
Stray Cats. Aizawa Shouta x fem!reader ✨by http_vanished (kinda enemies to lovers , fluff, angst)A man under the alias ‘Eraserhead’ is your favourite author of all timeAs part of your bucket list, you write him a letter expressing your admiration. Never in a thousand years did you expect a rely, inviting you over for dinner to meet him, all-expense paid for. However things don’t go exactly as you planned as the man you idolised for years turns out to be grumpy, scruffy man with an appalling attitude.[COMPLETED]
Lucky Cat ✨by kalpa (oneshot, fluff, humor, slice of life, smut)You're utterly convinced your quirk is having shit luck and attracting trouble everywhere you go. Thankfully, a certain underground hero is always there to save the day.[COMPLETED]
Hurting Together by  @dira333 /Fogfire(oneshot, sorta humor(?))You meet in the waiting room of a Clinic, but opening up about your respective illnesses isn't as easy as you might have thought. Or how Aizawa makes an ass of himself because he tries to flirt on painkillers.[COMPLETED]
Caught in Love by @mooncademia (oneshot, fluff, kinda secret relationship)After getting a job offer at U.A, your love life w/ Aizawa has officially transferred to school. And you loved it.
The Cat and the Key (Aizawa x Reader) by EVoDanger (oneshot, fluff, slowburn)The most wanted woman in town has announced that she'll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat's neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail. The cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.[COMPLETED]
suffer the signs ✨by advantagetexas (oneshot, hanahaki au, angst with happy ending)You begin coughing up petals soon after beginning work as the new UA nurse. You know what they are, you know why they're afflicting you, but you refuse to let them control you.[COMPLETED]
Quirk Smirk by Meldy_Writes (fluff, humor)Quirkless Female Reader moves to Musutafu to reconnect with her estranged sister, Inko, and her newfound nephew, Izuku. everything is going fine until she learns that her kind-of-attractive-kind-of-a-dick neighbor is a pro-hero… and also her nephew's homeroom teacher.[COMPLETED]
But they're soft... by coffee_dessert (fluff, humor)When a black cat is found unconscious in the pouring rain, what's a good samaritan to do? In which the reader takes care of Aizawa after he's been affected by a transformation Quirk.[COMPLETED]
What a Cliché by kingyohna (flowershop au, fluff, slowburn, mutual pinning)Aizawa doesn't know much about pop culture, but he knows it's a definite cliché to fall for someone working in a flower shop.[COMPLETED]
Together, Always. by kalpa (oneshot, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst)Ever since you were young, you've done what's expected of you. But after a chance meeting with a hero and after saving two cats, you begin to wonder just what you truly want out of life.[COMPLETED]
Fill my little world (right up) by tsumoo  (single parent aizawa, nanny! reader, fluff, family feels)you are employed by aizawa shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter eri while he’s at work. as time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.[COMPLETED]
Breathless by Mishme(oneshot, fluff, hurt/comfort) In which you experience the different types of kisses from the pro hero, Eraserhead.[COMPLETED]
Chocolate Milk by MariaTheBrave(oneshot, fluff)“Mr. Aizawa,” Mina broke from the others and made a beeline to her teacher, “why didn’t you tell us you have a kid?!”[COMPLETED]
The Reaper (Aizawa x female reader) by Emltar (fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, trauma)You're a teacher at UA with a tragic past trying to keep some semblance of peace in your shattered life. Can a grumpy caterpillar break through your defenses or will you lose yourself completely?[COMPLETED]
Newfound by mysoftestecho (strangers to friends to lovers, smut, fluff)You move to a new town to start teaching at UA. It's a new life for you and you're excited to see what it brings.[COMPLETED]
Home is where you are by speia(oneshot, fluff, comfort)Just a casual Valentine's Day[COMPLETED]
Puzzle Pieces ✨by iimber(fluff, angst, mutual pinning, stalker)Years of piecing together your life to the point were it's near perfect come crashing down when you gain an extremely dedicated stalker. After coming to a head, you leave your life in Tokyo to seek safety back in Musutafu. [ONGOING<idk could be discontinued too😭>]
Shouta Aizawa x Emi Fukukado(Ms. Joke)
But I remember you✨✨ by JackieMoonshine (oneshot, fluff, humor)A fun EraserJoke one-shot that struggles with whether it wants to be a comedy or drama. Either way, I like it.[COMPLETED]
A Happy Family with Never-Ending Laughter ✨by Yojimbra (domestic fluff, humor, smut)In order to raise Eri properly, Eraserhead seeks help from the one person he can trust. Ms. Joke.Eri is so screwed.[COMPLETED]
Nature, Nurture, and Chocolate Milk  by  Nuclear_Equipped_ Walking _ Battle_Tank (oneshot, fluff, humor, izuku and shinsou are brothers)The Aizawa family goes shopping . An appropriate amount of tomfoolery ensues. [COMPLETED]
this sudden burst of sunlight, and me with my umbrella  by  lettersfromnowhere (fluff, angst, family feels)the one where Eri gets a mom, Aizawa gets a headache, Emi adopts half of UA, and laughter really is the best medicine.[COMPLETED]
he hadn't the time by ohmytheon (oneshot, friends to lovers, bad at feelings)Over the ten years that Shota has known Emi Fukukado, she has been far too loud, bubbly, bright, and positive for his taste. She's probably one of the most annoying people he knows. She is also an extremely capable hero and an excellent teacher. There has to be a reason that their paths keep meeting and it has to be more than just to drive him crazy.[COMPLETED] he took the time by ohmytheon (oneshot, smut, fluff)If Emi keeps joking about Shouta taking her home, one of these nights he's going to take her up on that offer. Turns out, it's not a joke at all, not one bit.[COMPLETED]
Bursting with Laughter, Blooming in Flowers✨ by dracula420 (hanahaki au, angst with happy ending, fluff)Emi Fukukado loves jokes. She’s got a million of ‘em. You ever heard the one about the girl that repressed her unrequited love until it turned into a disease? That ones a classic.[COMPLETED]
The Last Laugh ✨✨by FeralPen (friends to lovers, temp. unrequited love, fluff, light angst) Emi Fukukado had two goals in life: become the hero who makes everyone smile, and crack Eraserhead's shell to make him laugh. Getting a date along the way would just be a bonus.[COMPLETED]
Sands and eyelashes by Iamanormalperson(misunderstanding, pinning) Eraserhead and Ms. Jokes had taken down a villain. That's it, but the others saw something else.[COMPLETED]
Inside Joke by Huinari  (oneshot, fluff)Five times Ms. Joke asked Eraserhead to marry her, and one time she didn’t.[COMPLETED]
Subtle Like a Lion’s Cage by aactionjohnny(fluff, mutual pinning, hurt/comfort)Ketsubutsu is under construction, so the students are staying at UA. Unfortunately for Aizawa, that also means Ms. Joke will be around.[COMPLETED]
Never Again (but maybe I'll give you a chance) by SplashingInPonds (oneshot, feels)After a disastrous mess of emotions and a big joke at his expense in high school, Shouta Aizawa decided that he was never going to let himself feel that way again. That is until he meets a persistent woman with sea green hair that seems to actually hold something genuine underneath her overly jovial hero persona.[COMPLETED]
I’m Ms. Joke: Ask Me Anything! by dracula420(oneshot, humor) Aizawa lurks the internet and finds a rather interesting topic on a very famous forum site.[COMPLETED]
make your move by velvari (smut)Mr. Aizawa finally makes a move on Ms. Joke.[COMPLETED]
Drinking Makes the Truth Come Out by The_Sensei_Simp (oneshot, jealousy, fluff) Two years after the war, the Pro-Hero teachers of U.A. High School go out for drinks to celebrate their summer vacation, since they had not in a while. What happens when Shouta Aizawa runs into Ms. Joke the Smile Hero AKA Emi Fukakado, who catches his attention when a coworker of hers is too friendly with her and it makes him jealous?[COMPLETED]
367 notes · View notes
wttcsms · 1 year
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balancing act ; satoru gojo.
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pairing satoru gojo x f!reader   word count 3.9k   synopsis gojo bets that he can get you to fall in love in three months, and you bet that he can't go three months with staying committed to one person and not bang them. neither of you plan on losing. content contains modern no curses!au, mentions of sex and vulgar language (but no smut yet), simp gojo <3 author’s notes i plan on wrapping things up quickly this time around, so i have five parts planned for this mini series!
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Satoru Gojo is used to a wide array of reactions to any of his antics: awe (the summer analyst, Miwa, always stares at him like he himself is the one who created the stock market), irritation (Nanami is rarely ever in agreement with the comments Gojo leaves on his work), lust (Gojo gives just as much he receives because he’s benevolent like that — his words, of course). 
But he’s not quite used to being laughed at. 
He’s handsome, and he knows it, a deadly combination for any man because Shoko claims that all men are born with an astonishing amount of audacity and it only ever grows as they get older. Satoru brings up the fact that Shoko technically cheated her way through med school, and that any doctor worth her degree wouldn’t get onto patients while lighting up a cigarette of all things, but Shoko is equally stubborn and audacious as any man, and it just makes her a worthy opponent to get into arguments with. 
Being attractive and arrogant isn’t enough to keep him from suffering mild humiliation from time to time, though. The reason why Satoru doesn’t get embarrassed is because the world is unfair, so he happens to be born rich and smart enough and talented enough to just keep on getting richer. Even he is entirely aware of his privilege, but he’s got the type of personality that would be endearing even if he wasn’t hot, so everyone loves him. 
And you don’t hate him, he knows that. He also knows that you don’t love him, which is fine, because it’s not your love, or awe, or irritation, or lust (okay, maybe some lust would be nice) that Satoru wants from you. He just wants you for you, your honesty and whatever scraps of yourself that you toss to him. 
Today’s scraps are your laughter, which rings through the whole entire office, singing above the noisy clacks of keys being smashed by the analysts and the whirring of the printer shooting out hundreds of pages a minute. He feels a warmth spread from his stomach to his chest and maybe it even rises up to his neck, he’s not so sure. He should feel slightly embarrassed, he thinks, to have said something seriously only for you to find comedy in it, but he doesn’t. He just feels pleased with himself for making you laugh, like he’s done something great.
“You are so full of shit, Gojo.” You’re still smiling, even though you’re not bothering to look at him anymore. Your attention is now focused on the report one of the analysts has turned into you, and from the lack of comments you’re leaving, he assumes it’s Megumi’s work. 
“I was being serious, y’know.” Satoru’s more than tall enough to see over the cubicles, especially when he’s standing up, and he leans over it, his head and upper body leaning into your personal desk space. The cubicles don’t do jack shit for privacy, anyway, so he doesn’t feel bad when you complain that he’s invading your privacy. If it was privacy that you craved, you wouldn’t have three monitors raised, each of them displaying a jumble of numbers and words that Satoru doesn’t care about. 
“So was I.” You tell him.
Just thirty minutes ago, you walked into the office with a quad shot espresso, unceremoniously plopped your Longchamp tote onto the floor, and dramatically sighed to get your desk neighbor’s attention. Utahime is always a good sport when it comes to your antics but doesn’t bother extending the same courtesy to Satoru, which he considers to be very unfair considering that he’s technically everyone’s boss. It is his name that’s displayed on the side of the building, and his private equity firm that he’s built up alongside Suguru. 
“What happened this time?” Utahime asks you, like the good sport she is. Satoru, at that time, was pretending not to eavesdrop even though he is, because he’s a nosy bastard. 
“I hate men.” You say, leaning back in your chair. “He left me for someone nice.”
The way you say it lets him — and Utahime, who is actually the person you’re talking to — know that that nice was a direct quote from your ex.
Utahime furrows her brows, looking confused. “But you are nice.” 
Debatable, is what Satoru wants to say, but he’s remaining silent so he can get the full story out of you first.
“No. I’m a workaholic with no personality outside of my fancy finance job.” 
Ouch. 
Satoru doesn’t see an issue with you, though. So what, you’re hardworking and focused? He thinks it’s kinda hot to see someone with so much ambition and discipline. He wouldn’t have hired you if you were anything less. 
“He’s just insecure.” Utahime says, soft voice trying to soothe you, even though Satoru hears the familiar sound of your manicure typing in your login details to your computer. He knows it’s silly to think he can tell the difference between your typing and anyone else’s, and he doesn’t want to think too hard about what that could possibly mean when it comes to defining his feelings for you.
“You said the same thing about my last three exes, and they all said similar things about me.” Satoru can’t see either of you from this angle, but he’s certain that you’re opening up your emails right about now. The conversation is coming to a close, and he needs to start focusing on his own tasks, but then you say something interesting, practically baiting him to come out of his office.
“I’ve decided that from this point forward, I am swearing off men.” 
Utahime laughs. “You can’t just swear off all men because of a few bad ones.”
“Not forever.” You clarify. “Just for the time being. All the men I’ve dealt with  in Tokyo suck.”
On paper, all your exes are fantastic catches. There’s the surgeon (who found you to be too independent), the professor (who thought you were too busy to give him the attention he needed), the hedge fund associate (who thought that he liked smart girls, but apparently, not ones smarter than him), and your newest ex, the investment banker. The irony isn’t lost on anyone — an investment banker criticizing someone for being a workaholic obsessed with the prestige of their finance career? If he was going to scramble for an excuse to want to see other people, he should have chosen some other cliche line instead of using the same one someone else must have said to him. 
“What’s this about men in Tokyo?” Satoru strolls up to the divider between you and Utahime, hands in his pockets, pretending that he hasn’t been listening to the entirety of your conversation from the very beginning.
“That all of them suck.” You say, with that unwavering confidence he likes. 
“I’m a man in Tokyo.” He’s grinning.
“Yeah. I stand by what I said.” You’re not even being courteous enough to look at him, still focused on whatever email is on your screen.
His grin only grows wider.
“Maybe all the men you’ve been with are subpar, but I bet I could change your mind.” 
“Is this even appropriate for work?” Utahime interjects. 
“If it’ll make my dear employee Utahime happy, I can grab someone from HR to supervise this conversation.” Satoru says.
“It’s a trap.” You tell her, lips curling up in a smile that lets him know you’re going to say something very mean and probably true about him. “He’s already broken protocol with everyone who works there.” 
“You’re very disrespectful to your boss. Anyone else would have fired you on the spot.” Satoru only pretends to be wounded by your comments, but everyone knows that he’s as good at taking it as he is at dishing it out. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that Satoru owns this firm because he’s not very good at professionalism himself. 
Utahime mutters something under her breath, deciding not to engage further in whatever it is the two of you are doing.
“So, whaddya say? Wanna test out your ‘all men in Tokyo suck’ theory with me?” He knows this teasing won’t go anywhere, even if he wants it to. You’re good at your job, and you’re good at being a professional. Somehow, he doesn’t think you would consider fucking your boss as something very professional. 
“I would, but I have standards.” 
Satoru wants to make a snide comment about all the guys who have dumped you, but he can’t, because it’s already been established that they’re not just decent by regular standards, but stellar. Rich, successful, well educated men who could probably make you cum. 
Well, Satoru is richer, more successful, and more educated than all of them combined, he thinks. And he would gladly make you cum like crazy, if you let him. 
“C’mon, what’s wrong with me?” 
“Promise I won’t get fired if I’m being honest?” You turn your desk chair, looking up at him with mock doe eyes, and the sight shouldn’t be both endearing and hot to him, but it is. 
“Give me your worst.” He tells you, both of you smiling at the challenge. 
“I don’t give anything of myself to a man who can’t even bother to commit to anyone.” 
Of course, you have a point. Satoru’s not known for dating anyone. He takes women out on extravagant dates, yes, but he doesn’t actually practice the act of dating. 
He doesn’t see a point to it. Most people, save for his friends (a bit weird to consider some of his closest companions are actually his employees), see beyond his shiny veneer, and dating would just complicate things. Dating means someone seeing the duller, not-so-great parts of himself.  
“I could commit if it’s you.” 
The way he says it, without that familiar teasing lilt of his, makes you burst out laughing. He really is trying to commit… to the bit, that is. For a moment, Satoru almost tricks you into thinking he’s serious. 
“You are so full of shit, Gojo.”
You’re focused on your work, not the momentary hurt look that disappears from his face as quickly as it came. 
“Don’t be such a pessimist.” He tells you. “I bet I could make you believe in love again.” 
“Who said I didn’t believe in love?” You frown at that. “I just don’t believe that the men in this city are capable of it.” 
“Bonus season is upon us.” Satoru says, suddenly having a bright idea. He’s so rich that his wealth seems to be an extension of himself, and like all other parts of his body and mind, he uses it to his advantage. 
“Ugh, don’t tell me this conversation is going to affect my bonus check. I really will go to HR, then.” 
“I’ll double your bonus pay if you let me court you for three months.”
“Court me?” You’re laughing at him again. He eats it up, savors it, lets it settle on his tongue and warm his insides. 
“If you’re so convinced I’d be horrible and only prove you right, wouldn’t you jump at the chance to make some easy money?” 
He’s trying to bait you into accepting; you know it. You also know that nothing from Gojo comes easy. He makes it entirely too convenient to forget that he’s razor sharp and cutthroat, the things he needs to be in order to remain on top of the finance scene, but he’s always joking, always teasing, that it feels like he almost doesn’t like being taken seriously. 
“Like I said, I don’t deal with men with commitment issues.”
There was a brief moment in time where you considered going out with Gojo. The two of you have always been rotating in the same social circles, way back to your high school and university days. You don’t shame him for having casual sex because Gojo is genuinely sweet when he wants to be, and you know that everyone he’s ever fucked has done so more than willingly, probably too eagerly. They all get broken up over the fact that Gojo never wants to actually enter into a relationship with them, and it’s probably because they chose not to take him seriously. He has a bad habit of spitting out the truth but presenting it like some sort of joke. A guy shouldn’t take you out to a nice dinner and make you cum twice before even thinking about himself if he doesn’t want a girl to fall in love with him. 
For as long as you’ve known Gojo, he’s never dated once. Never a high school sweetheart or a tumultuous college relationship bound for disappointment and a messy breakup. Even now, he doesn’t follow the example of the other men in positions of power like him, who pursue doe-eyed college girls to shower with affection and trap into manipulative relationships. 
He’s cute and funny and would treat you right, but you can’t deal with the embarrassment of having someone only for one night or two, only to have them do the same thing they did with you, just with someone else. It would feel like a mockery. Your pride doesn’t give you room to give in to Gojo’s charm.
“Is that really your only stipulation?” He shrugs, like this is something insignificant, and you’re being so silly. “I’ll stay committed to you for the entire duration of the bet.” 
You narrow your eyes. “You need to keep your dick wet at all times. I’m pretty sure you die if you don’t get off at least once a day.” 
Utahime coughs, but it sounds too much like a laugh. 
“True, but I bet you’d be great at keeping me alive.” 
Oh, he is definitely getting sent to HR.
“So you want me to believe in love, and you’re convinced you can do this by the time bonus season rolls around, which is only three months.” You’re entering business mode, rearranging the facts and coming up with strategies in your head. Satoru never thought that someone thinking could be so attractive, but here he is, and here you are. 
“I’ll agree to participate, but only if you can handle what I consider to be proper courting.”
“What does that consist of?” He’s got you, hook, line, and sinker. There’s nothing Satoru Gojo cannot accomplish. He’s built up his own wildly successful private equity firm, doubling his family’s fortune. He graduated top of his class. He gives every girl he’s ever been with consecutive, mind blowing orgasms using just his tongue and two fingers. There’s nothing you could possibly say that his natural talents and money can’t handle. 
“No sex. No kissing. No touching.” You lean back in your chair, looking far too smug. 
“Done.” 
He doesn’t even have to think about agreeing, but you falter, just for a second. 
“Really?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“It’s not just you saying no to sex with me, but sex in general.” You pause, trying to spot when the realization of the severity of his situation is. When he doesn’t give you a reaction, just still continuing to tilt his head in mild amusement, you continue. “You can’t flirt or take anyone else on a date, and you definitely can’t fuck them, either.” 
“Yes, I’m aware.” 
“You’re going to regret this.” You huff, certain that Gojo is dumber than you thought. He might think this is all fun and games now, but when he’s pent up and unable to get off, you’re certain you’re going to receive a text from him forfeiting the bet altogether. It shouldn’t bother you that he acts like your addition to the bet is easy, because his failure means your pockets get fatter, but it’s no fun playing games when someone isn’t ready to fully play to win.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” He says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Make sure to finish going over all the analysts’ slide decks because I’m taking you out tomorrow night.” 
The timer for the bet starts tomorrow, then.
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Satoru thinks it’s cute that you thought you had him there, dangling sex like he’s some barbarian who can’t survive without it. Sure, fucking is fun, and sure, you’re definitely denying yourself of some of the greatest experiences you could have had, but he uses his brain more than his dick. 
If any girl is worth going celibate for, it’d be you.
Sitting in his office, he can’t concentrate on his work. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much that you think not having access to your body would be enough to turn him away. Either you really do think he’s a sex addict, or the men you’ve been with aren’t as great as they appear to be. It’s probably a mixture of both, but this conclusion doesn’t make him any happier. 
Neither does having Suguru saunter into his office, without knocking. Just walks in, like he owns the place. And with his fifty-percent ownership of the firm, and his last name right next to Gojo’s on the building, he kind of does.
“HR is going to have a field day with you,” his best friend says in exchange for a greeting. Satoru would have preferred a hello.
“HR is in charge of the payroll that I fund,” is Satoru’s retort. 
“Only you would force an employee into a childish bet instead of asking her out like a normal person.”
“Didn’t force her.” Satoru conveniently doesn’t acknowledge the latter half of his statement.
“Didn’t really give her much choice, either.” Suguru smiles. “Shit, even I’d deal with your ass for two hundred grand more.” 
“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m committed to one woman only.” 
“God help her.” And then, after taking a second to think, Suguru continues. “Actually, if He really cared, He wouldn’t have kept leading her to the same places as you.” 
“Maybe I’m her blessing.” 
No one in the office knows why Suguru is laughing so hard behind Gojo’s closed door.
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“There’s no way this is legal,” Utahime tells you, taking a sip out of her iced matcha latte before continuing on her half-lecture/half-rant. “Gojo needs to be behind bars.”
A bit dramatic, all things considered. It’s not like Gojo’s comments even make the list for sleazy things male coworkers have said to you before, and you’re not entirely innocent, either. You like to poke and prod at him because it’s fun, and you know that Gojo can take it. 
Utahime does not respect Gojo, but she does like him enough to tolerate him. They’re like brother and sister, so much so that one time, someone made an offhand comment about how they should just fuck to get rid of their antagonism towards each other, and they both threw up because they were so disgusted. 
“It is a bit inappropriate,” Nanami comments, and you know he’s right because when has Nanami ever been wrong?
Granted, Nanami must have been wrong sometime in his life. He started out with a similar background as everyone else working in the firm. He landed an internship and then a return offer in investment banking, despised it, pursued academia, and was halfway done with a PhD program in economics before he decided to come back and work for Gojo and Geto. He doesn’t tell anyone why he came back, and no one is close enough with him to ask and expect an honest answer.
Nanami having lunch with you is a treat because he prefers avoiding everyone in the office, so it almost feels like you’ve won a coveted prize, one to show off whenever you get back to the office. He likes to keep to himself, but even he’s only human. The interest in your little bet with Gojo is harbored by him, too, same as everyone else who’s heard about it. 
You should feel embarrassed about having your life so publicly known, but finance is a small, incestual pool. Everyone working within it knows each other, has fucked each other, and will continue to exclusively hate and love only each other. It’s a bit cultish, if you think about it, so you try not to focus on the social aspects of the job. 
“It’s not like I’m on his team or anything. I technically only handle deals managed by Geto.” You say this in defense of yourself, as if it changes the morality and ethics of the whole bet. It doesn’t, but the attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. 
“Geto and Gojo are essentially two halves of the same whole.” Utahime replies. “Geto just has more public decency training.” 
“You’re telling me that you can see Geto betting someone that he can make her fall in love with him in three months?” 
“No. He’s not as audacious. I like Geto, he’s very cautious.” Nanami looks thoughtful for a second. “He would bet six months, just to be safe.” 
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Satoru knows that he’s screwed the moment you’re being introduced as the newest student in his class. School started two weeks ago, so everything’s already been settled. Everything important, that is, so the hottest girl in class has been established, along with who’s going to be relentlessly bullied, and who everyone is going to cheat off of. He has different routes mapped out for getting to class, depending on his mood and who he’s trying to avoid, along with a new secret hiding spot that he’s not going to share with anyone, except for Suguru, and maybe Shoko. 
He likes that he’s already gotten all this shit dealt with so he can spend the rest of the year relaxing, but he’s watching you as you’re standing in front of the class, talking to the teacher and then introducing yourself.
The first thing he notices is that the ugly school uniforms are decidedly not ugly. He comes to this startling conclusion when the boxy, starchy white button-up shirt doesn’t look like cardboard on you, and that the gray wool of your skirt doesn’t wash you out. 
The next thing he notices is that you speak differently than any of the other teenage girls he’s dealt with, save for Utahime and Shoko. Shoko has no issue with speaking her mind, and if Satoru presses enough buttons with enough pressure, he can get Utahime to curse like a sailor. He spaces his aggressions out accordingly, so that way when she does blow up in his face, she does it in the presence of an adult. You introduce yourself confidently; there is nothing shy or meek about you, even though standing in front of a bunch of disinterested teens — your strange new peers for the rest of your high school years — should be anxiety inducing. 
Then, you take the empty seat next to him like it belongs to you, and Satoru is starting to think that maybe it does, that maybe it always has. 
(Well, Suguru is sick today, that’s why the seat was available.)
Anyway, all of his carefully laid out plans are now tossed out the window. He needs to figure out what route you take to get around, and what the rest of your class schedule looks like, and maybe it’s just him, but the former hottest girl in school has now been demoted to second-best. 
He feels a shift in the air, like the universe is trying to signal major change in his life, and rather than run away from it, Satoru settles into his seat, noticing how you’re not even giving him the time of day. 
There’s an unfamiliar feeling rising inside of him; something that says you’re going to constantly knock him off-balance and—
—he kinda likes it.
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itsonlydana · 2 months
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Noisy Neighbors | hobbit
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pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]
Your new neighbors have been the bane of your existence - or rather sleep - for the last few nights, always keeping you up with their extensive love life. When you go up to confront the couple, you find another solution to the problem.
warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU] threesome, oral (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v, slight choking, brats (reader & Thranduil), mocking & dirty talk, Thranduil being a snarky bitch, he bites a bit, spitting, one ass-slap, praise, pet names, dom!bard, [reader is described with hair no further, no use of y/n]
word count: 6,2k
an: *lifts hands into the air* I'm sorry but writing Thranduil bitchy in this trio is what comes naturally, alright? I've been powering through this whole Sunday and between watching f1 and eating watermelon and packing up for a vacation, this surely made this day better. (not proofread, just wanted this baby out)
+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
They’re at it. Again! 
Another night and you’re yet again held up by your neighbors fucking for the second time; on a Tuesday no less.
It’s 1 am and nearly seventy-three minutes – timed and noted down in your frazzled brain – after the noise had stopped the first time but now the moaning upstairs continues; this time accompanied by the banging of probably a bed frame that, if the force is anything to go by, is close to smashing in the walls. 
You haven’t seen the new neighbors that had moved into the apartment above you, there had been moving trucks, a handful of handsome and very good-to-look-at guys carrying furniture around the garden and blocking the elevator for hours, leaving cigarette buts around and ringing at yours so often you doubted it was an accident every time, but there had been no one who introduced themselves.
Well, not personally. 
Or rather in person, because what you hear every night is as personal as it gets. 
As you lie in your bed, alone one might add, you wonder who this couple is. 
Not that you have anything better to do. They’re the reason you’ve been either sleepless or fallen asleep to a lovely ASMR of two guys moaning that slowly snuck itself into your dreams; if anyone dares to say it isn’t appropriate or normal to think about the – sex – life of your neighbors you could counter that you had every right! Especially you. 
They’re probably young, you figure, not by the number of times they’re going at each other and the length, god, it has been a good while, that stamina is astounding, but by whatever coherent words you can understand now and again, their voices delimited the range of possible ages. 
And you had seen a pair of laced-up thigh-high black boots walking up the stairs after you had once heard the front door open and raced to peek through the peephole. Another time there had been a pair of very shiny and tight boxers left in the washing room downstairs and while you felt like a creep expecting them hanging on the line a few feet away from you, your basket clutched into your hands as you thought of the other renters here and how often you had seen their underwear, you concluded this must be one of theirs. The shoes as well as the boxers could belong to some older couple but that was most unlikely adding the different factors.
The names on their doorbell say ‘Oropherion & Bowmann’, though no Google search has brought up anything forth that could be them, nothing around this area anyway. 
Another moan rips through the night, guttural and raspy, and by now, that sound’s imprinted into your mind as well as the gasp and shout that follow. A few seconds of bed rattling later the boyfriend/husband/lover roommate with lots and lots of benefits reaches his peak as well in a deep moan that reverberates in your bones and sends a heat to your face and much lower. 
When silence falls, there’s an embarrassing moment of clarity as you release a shaking breath and quickly stand up on shaking legs to open your window, inhaling the cold air outside to fight against the urge to look up some porn and follow their example. 
They’ve gotten to your head, twisted up whatever the stress at work had left to be corrupted into this perverse lust. On the one hand, you’ll do anything for a night of full sleep but on the other hand… what you wouldn’t do to – no, no, no, this route is just a spur of restlessness. Leftover frustration over the last few exes, and dates being unable to bring out whatever your neighbors clearly had no problems with. 
They’re so vocal in their pleasure, that the last experiences of grinding against jeans in dingy club bathrooms or hookups ended in an unsatisfied call to a cab firm makes laying there, listening, fantasizing, even more unbearable. 
Not just because of the few residues of your consciousness, the blaring ‘this is so wrong’ -sign lighting up neon red in your head, but taking in their noises travels a long way through your body and you’re short of actually snapping and resolving the issue of the throbbing inside your pants yourself. 
The silence and air luckily help the cooldown; body and mind alike, and you wait, breathing in and out, calming down. Being up this late (or early) grants you the advantage of hearing the cicadas, the constant clicking, the low buzz of the aircon, and the distant rush of cars passing by. Somewhere there’s laughter, across the street, a TV light flickers through the white curtains fluttering in the opened window. 
People and animals are still up. Life’s going on. Another night of losing sleep isn’t the end of the world, even if the long day ahead will try defiling this feeling of peace that you conjure, brain hooked on the few meditation videos your friend has shown you recently. The stress of this situation manifests in an uncontrollable grumpiness that slips over your tongue and spills out of your eyes like thunderous weather clouded once bright skies – suddenly, one sentence meant nice gets on your nerves. 
You sigh and trot back to the pushed-back covers of your single bed, slipping your naked legs under the thin sheet. This is fine. Completely fine. You just need to close your eyes and concentrate on those damn sheep you had been counting before the rude interruption.
One sheep …. your shoulders sack into the pillow, relaxing slowly.
Two sheep … a heavy yawn breaks through your lips.
Three sheep … finally, you’ll be able to fall asleep. A few hours aren’t preferred, yet they’re better than no sleep at all.
Four sheep — and is that another. fucking. moan?
You sit up in your bed fast enough for dizziness to take over but that isn’t stopping any of the rage that switches your body to autopilot. In seconds after the godforsaken long moan echoes, you’re taking long and hard steps across your apartment, not caring one bit that you’re wearing neither shoes nor a long enough shirt to barely cover your ass and you haven’t even met them so this was neither an appropriate outfit nor emotion to confront them for the first time but fuck propriety!
“Fucking men,” you mumble underneath your breath as you waltz through your front door, – taking one step back to carefully push a sandal in between door and frame –, and then you’re up the stairs. Each step is fueled by that anger, the restlessness that pushes you over. In no other world would you have gotten this infuriated to completely ignore the otherwise introverted side of you, though they have taken it too far, “Just you wait.” 
You basically fly across the corner of the stairway, rushing up the last few steps until you see the dark door, boots standing in front of it, and before you can even think about what you’re about to do, your fists already collide with the wood once, twice, three angry times.
Four for good measure.
Five just because they’re surely taking their time.
Before your hand knocks another time, the door is being ripped open and you’re suddenly face to face with the nightly disturbers of your peace. Or rather face to chest. You’re certain your eyes are still angry because when you lift your chin to look away from those sweaty chests and find their faces, the man closest to you flinches the tiniest bit.
“You’re fucking loud,” you point a finger firstly at them, then down, pronunciation making it clear that you aren’t swearing per se, “I’ve been trying to sleep for so fucking long and I’ll give you one guess why I’m still up and about? Huh? Ever heard of compassion for neighbors or– I don’t know, holding in some of the noises?” Your chest heaves at the row of complaints that spills over your curled lips, cheeks hot and very possibly just as red as they feel.
There is a second of silence where your voice carries through the hallway, bouncing along the walls. 
You take the opportunity to give them a quick once-over, adding a wealth of new details to the mental picture you've been building. The man in front has dark brown, messy hair pulled into a ponytail, with some silver strands curling and sticking wetly to his forehead and temples. He sports a scruffy beard, with stubble on his pinkish cheeks and a thicker mustache over his lips. His body hair trails down, covering his defined chest, and extends further into the tight black boxers you saw in the basement.
The other one is strikingly different. Tall as well, towering over you though this has to do with the ice-cold and annoyed look that bores into you out of blue-grey eyes under heavy eyebrows. Long blonde hair falls over his lean chest, slightly ruffled but that’s no wonder after the two-and-a-half rounds in their bed. His lips are stuck together, adding to his attitude.
Both of them are gorgeous, dressed in nothing but boxers, and their bodies are marked by fingerprints and scratches. And while they surely are a bit older than you, that gap couldn’t be much.
“Wow,” the blonde, the one leaning against the wall behind his partner, the one being more long legs than anything else, rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you lovely?” 
You swear you nearly feel a vein pop. 
“Lovely?” you bring out between clenched teeth. 
The brunette shoots a look over his shoulder, getting a shrug out of the taller one in exchange that most likely means he doesn’t care one bit, and then he turns back to you, offering a crooked smile that sinks in the edge of the right corner, an apology pulling the plush lips down. “I’m sorry,” he starts and nudges his head back, “an’ excuse Thranduil, he can be very – bratty.” The thick accent that curls around the words slightly surprises you but you’re back on track fast.
One eyebrow raised you stare at them. “Sure,” sarcasm drips over your tongue, “and to shut him up you dick him down or what?” In the morning, you’ll probably very much regret this crude language, the dismissive tone that resembles more a hiss than anything else. 
“Yes, actually,” Thranduil cuts in and pushes his sharp chin up, looking down at you over the bridge of his nose. One of his hands, gods, they’re huge, lazily pats the broad shoulders of his partner, long and ringed fingers clanking together. He’s laying down heavily on some possessive shit you couldn’t care less about.
“Bite the curb or turn the moaning down,” you snap back, brows furrowed together. 
“Maybe –” 
“I’m Bard, by the way,” the brunette interrupts him and holds out a hand for you to shake. Hands, that had been who knew where a few minutes ago. Both of you seem to realize this at the same moment and while he cringes and pulls back, you offer your name, only looking at Bard and ignoring Thranduil, draped over Bard's back like a prying cat.
“Nice to meet ya. Thought about coming down a few times but never caught you home,” Bard says, attempting small talk. His effort is overshadowed by the sharp look-over Thranduil gives you, and it's clear that this is not the time to play the friendly neighbor.
You make that clearer by crossing your arms in front of your chest, unconsciously bunching up your shirt, and revealing the black string of your panties. Bard swallows, heavily.
“Well, nice to meet you,” you echo back dryly and cock your hip, “Can I go back to sleep in peace now? Are we done with this?”
Bard’s smile is pained, a bit embarrassed if you have to guess. “Sure, sorry again.”
“I’m not.” 
Thranduil hasn’t even looked at you as he whispers loud enough into Bard’s ears that it’s definitely meant for yours as well. And that piece of shit has the gall to flutter his lashes, his mouth ghosting over the hickey right against Bard’s neck, the offending lips curled into a smirk you want to wipe off. 
The sigh that leaves Bard is deep and deflates his whole chest, his shoulders following the drop of his arms. “Thran–”
“Oh, is that right?” On the contrary, you push your shoulders back and tip your head, sizing up the neighbor who, in your opinion, can move right back out again. No matter how pretty and unfairly sexy he is, that mouth of his ruins it. “Where do you pull out this fucking behavior? I just came here because you two have been going at it for hours and haven’t bothered to think about anyone else. I'm so sorry that –”
“Apology accepted,” Thranduil grins. His grey eyes are gleaming in amusement at your noticeable anger and he makes a high sound out of the back of his throat that sounds a lot like a giggle.
“Fucking hell, Thran!” Bard slaps his hand back, the flat of his palm meeting flexing muscles of Thranduil’s thigh, and lowly, sensually, Thranduil moans. This man is the walking definition of shamelessness.
That sound, the low vibration that usually comes through your walls, shoots to your core so fast that you sputter on the next breath. Hot curling heat makes itself comfortable in your lower stomach and you can’t help but blush – a feast for the unabashed man.
“If I had known we had such’ prude for a neighbor we would’ve found another place,” Thranduil says, most likely just to tease, because in the few minutes you’d known him, he’s definitely a teasing brat.
Ready to fight for yourself you shake your head and furrow your brows further.  “I'm not prude –”
“It’s okay” A Cheshire cat-like smile disproves the false compassion, making it all sound much more patronizing. Thranduil has gotten under your skin, an itch you yearn to scratch however you can, “Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“No, but I’m not a prude!” You lick your teeth, stepping closer to their door as if that will make your point more convincing than the tight vintage shirt you’re wearing, with a fading Care Bear printed right over your tits.
In mocking, Thranduil rests his chin on Bard’s shoulder, holding your slowly wavering gaze. “Not everybody is comfortable with such an active sex life.”
With ease he smothers every bit of self-control you have left, thinning out your resolve to stand higher than him. You glower, all the thoughts of failed one-night stands pressing onto your tongue and loosening it faster than you can realize what you’re spitting in front of their feet – one statement powerful enough to change the entire atmosphere into another type of tension:
"I would be if I would get it!" 
“Woah, let’s take it a notch back, shall we, hun?” Bard’s soothing voice could have been directed at each or either one of you two, and you notice how heavy your breathing has become, how much your hands twitch pressed against your breasts, and how Bard’s eyes flicker over where the shirt stretches tighter. 
Interesting…
The hand on Thranduil’s thigh wanders higher, immediately capturing your attention and it's the tanned color of it against ivory white that gets you. The difference in softness and hardness, obvious callouses moving over smooth skin. 
As subtly as possible, you shift your weight to squeeze your thighs together, heightening the throbbing evoked by every inch of skin in front of you. 
Neither Thranduil nor Bard misses it. You can tell it by Bard’s eyes darkening, Thranduil’s smirk widening dangerously and their stance, Thranduil’s arms slinging across Bard’s taut stomach, fiddling with the silky band of his boxers, as well as Bard leaning more right – opening up the way into their dark apartment.
“What if –,” Bard starts, fingers digging into Thranduil’s thigh.
Ice-cold eyes that suddenly burn with hot interest look you over, stopping right where the hem of your shirt exposes your underwear, “You could join us?” 
The offer shuts down your body as soon as your mind comprehends what Thranduil’s lowered, honeyed voice had presented to you and unfortunately, the inquiring “huh?” sounds much more like a whimper than originally planned. This question, this golden opportunity presented on a silver platter is fuel to the aching arousal pooling in your stomach and you can’t deny that, while lying in bed at night, listening to their intimacy, hadn’t evoked that dirty thought in you. 
Flushes of heat spread from your pelvis. You lick over your teeth. 
“What?” you laugh nervously. 
“You’ve heard us right,” Thranduil’s hand stills over the v of Bard’s hips. That he doesn’t move is nearly as taunting as the constant toying, wandering, and scratching he had done till then. 
“Pff as if –,” you stutter stubbornly, even if the pooling of wetness in your underwear betrays you, “as if.. as if I'm gonna waltz into the apartment of two strangers.. two men! You could do whatever to me!”
“Yeah, and you heard exactly what we could bring out of you” 
Their moans and the bed slamming against the wall are pretty good arguments against a case already won in their favor, despite how you’re still trying to grasp for straws.
“My organs when you strip me to the bed and murder me silently?”
“Jeez, you have an imagination woman. Is the stick this far up your ass that –”
“Babe!” Bard’s elbow lands in Thranduil’s side, warningly and soft just like his voice.
“No, let him finish” you glare at Thranduil, “I’d like to know what he thinks about presumed stick in my arse and its results.”
“I think you are prude and underfucked, jealous and so stripped up tightly you won't admit that a good fuck – and honey, I’ll deliver nothing less – would loosen you up,” Thranduil finishes his speech with a tip of his head forward, daring you to talk back and gosh, you wish you had some comeback, anything to prove him wrong, however, the wetness that sticks syrupy between your legs strikes out all other thoughts except:
You want them. You want both of these men.
“So—so what?” you retort, knowing they're right, a pout forming on your lips and a persistent crease of defiance. “That's such a testosterone-driven answer; typical man, thinking their cocks are the miracle cure to a woman’s dry spell.”
Even Bard tuts now, his soft eyes falling to your underwear. “You sure? Hun, you can whine all ‘bout but I can see your cute little panties being all wet – oh come on, don’t blush, I see them alright?” And sure, the material may cling to your cunt and the breeze in the hallway coming from an open window enhances that feeling, but– “Darlin’,” Bard chuckles, “Stop thinking, ‘s not that hard to accept you want it. Come on in, let Thranduil apologize sincerely for his hissy fit.”
You huff. 
Thranduil breathes a kiss toward you, pink lips forming a cute heart, and you only think: “Fuck it.”
Thranduil’s mouth, as he proves a few minutes later, is quite good at apologizing, fantastic even.
You’re spread on your back across their bed – ironically you find out it’s directly above yours –, legs opened up by his large hands, the metal of his rings biting ice-cold into the heated flesh as he kneads his fingers into your thighs and teases you most annoyingly by kissing all around your clit. His arms are wrapped around you in a way that's confining you to lie there and take whatever he decides to give you, or not in some moments.
“Pretty girl –,” Thranduil murmurs into the sensitive and practically vibrating skin, “Should’ve known there’s something sweet about that sour tongue.” His tongue is just as bitter, licking straight through your folds, gathering the absurd amount of wetness and ending shortly before your clit to press a wide opened mouth kiss into you. 
Your hips buck upward in desperation and at the same time exhilaration and Thranduil’s biceps flex to pin you down again; giving you no wiggle room.
“Better lie still,” Bard whispers and tilts your head back by the hand he wraps loosely around your throat. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he holds over you. His fingertips close in together, putting the right amount of pressure on your windpipe for you to gasp for air; then he pounces in and takes over your lips in a heated kiss.
Your behavior, because you do in fact give it your best to stop your legs from crushing the head between your legs, is rewarded by Thranduil with the assistance of his tongue finally flicking over your swollen clit, first playfully then in earnest. He closes his lips around the bundle of nerves, grazing his teeth slightly over it and your head would’ve fallen back if it isn’t for the hand holding you to Bard. “Oh fuck,” you whine and grasp down. 
The second you burrow your hands into Thranduil’s hair, twirling some strands around your fingers for a better hold, he moans into you. Hot air meets the wetness of your pussy and the tips of your nails dig slightly into his hair roots. It turns him on more, that you grind yourself desperately against his face, your hands weaved into his hair to get back control and Thranduil’s tongue swipes over your pussy, diving in to plunge the tip into your entrance. 
“That’s it,” he gasps, sending the words straight through you while he fucks his tongue back into you a few times. Then he switches back to sucking on your clit and doesn’t stop; no matter how your thighs shook and fought to shut close, he stayed on his task of taking you completely into his mouth and rolling his tongue in figure-eights, circling in closer and closer. 
The sounds of Thranduil eating you out are pornographic, slickness from your spit and wetness, his ever-constant breathing and relentless swirls through your pussy that have your back in a wonderful arch. Bard’s lips swallow most of your whimpers up, and when he starts to lick his tongue against yours, teeth playfully tugging on your lower lip, you feel the stars before you see them. 
It starts up fast, heading toward you at full speed and you choke out your orgasm in a broken wail, fingers tightening in Thranduil’s hair. When he doesn’t stop and stimulation becomes overstimulation, your eyes flutter to escape the nearly drunken stare of his gray eyes hidden under long lashes and finally, he slows down. Bard too, leaves your lips in one last, dragged-out kiss that you want to chase after; his mouth is too sweet and gentle, a perfect harmony of caring and hunger.
“All attitude until the attitude drips down her legs and messes up our bedsheets,” Thranduil laughs huskily and wipes the back of his hand over his glistening lips and chin. He puckers his mouth, a wide grin on his face as he crawls up to you. “Now, how do you want this?”
Breathless, you look up to Thranduil and Bard, the latter already moving to shed himself of his boxers. When you see what Bard packs under the tight black underwear a wheezing laugh escapes your throat.
“Yeah,” you scoff at his arched eyebrow, “I would be fucking that multiple times as well.” 
His cock stands heavy against his stomach, thick and bobbing, white precum rolling down the veins. “Like what you see?” Bard teases, one hand wrapped around himself, leisurely stroking up and down. “I’ll let you have a taste if you’re good.”
A large palm spreads over your abdomen and Thranduil slides two fingers down to pinch your still sensitive clit so you yelp and scowl at him. “You won’t be getting any of that tonight,” his voice sounds threateningly possessive, and at the sight of his much taller body towering over yours and that look in his eyes, your stomach flips. “Don’t think I’ll let you hop on there after you disturbed us. Tonight –,” Again, that word that emphasized like he did promises more nights after this, “tonight he’s mine.” The last bit he whispers into your ear, the soft locks of his hair brushing your still-covered chest. 
All that Thranduil had time to undress you for, had been your underwear and those had landed ripped into two somewhere in the darkness of their bedroom. This meant you would have to borrow some of theirs or rush downstairs with your cunt on display and after this should be over, you have no idea if you would even be able to walk. 
Thranduil, by the feeling of his bulge pressing into your stomach, isn’t small either. That cockiness had to have a source somewhere and they don’t call it that for no reason.
Bard’s laughter interrupts the staring contest you two have going on, otherwise you’re not sure how long it would’ve gotten on or who would’ve quit first; not you, he could poke his cock into you however he wants. The other man walks around the bed, heading to the end where Thranduil’s long legs hang off and by the sudden twitch in the body crowding yours into the mattress and the cry Thranduil lets out, you strongly think there has been a tickling involved. 
You laugh as well, the sound dying swiftly when Thranduil turns back to you and grinds his hips into you. All that comes out then, is a straggled whine. 
“Fucking asshole,” you grumble and pull on his hair again, forcing his head down for you to kiss his wet lips. 
Able to taste yourself on his tongue, you greedily open your mouth further, and Thranduil wastes no second to dominate. He takes over the kiss, distracting you just enough that you don’t notice Bard taking off Thranduil’s boxers until the cock against your stomach twitches at a particular noise out of the back of your throat and precum dribbles onto your skin. 
“Someone’s eager,” you tease.
Thranduil promptly bites you in return. “Says the slut moaning under me,” he retorts, scratching his canines across your neck. “Now, take that skimpy shirt off or I’ll rip it like that sad excuse of underwear.” 
You roll your eyes but follow his demand, pulling the tight shirt off and flinging it away. Free for him to touch, Thranduil’s fingers of one hand find your right tit, and, putting the rock-hard pebble in between them, he steals the air out of your lungs pulling and twisting your nipples. “At least, oh fuck you –!” 
Your attempt to speak gets drowned out by a cry of need and suddenly, you’re getting crushed into the mattress by Thranduil’s heavy weight, his fingers still tight around your nipple and his mouth close to your ear. His ass is the only thing not forcing you down. 
Bard, who has been silently chuckling and observing until now, decided the time’s right to move this forward and over the head of blonde hair pushing itself into the crook of your neck, panting hotly and frustrated, you see Bard circling his rim with two fingers. 
“So that’s what shuts you up,” you whisper for Thranduil to hear. 
He lifts his head slightly, though the angry eyebrows fall quickly at another moan.
Behind Thranduil, illuminated by the moonlight outside, Bard looks positively majestic and dominating, his shoulder-length hair free from the ponytail, falling ruffled into his face as he inhales and forcefully spits down to where his fingers are slowly pushing further into the ass presented to him. 
“That’s good, Darlin’,” he praises and Thranduil keens, eyes full of hearts, “Push back a bit, makin’ it easy for me, aren’t you? Go on, sweetheart.” At your gasp – you’re not unaffected by the praise, not at all and if you weren’t coming down from a sensational orgasm that had your clit in flames.. – Bard looks up and winks at you. “Go on. Wonderful, you’re just the best. Look at you, beautiful.” He’s obviously talking to Thranduil but you follow his command despite it; the aura around Bard makes it impossible to do anything less than obey. 
Lying there under these two men, feeling their weight, hearing their moans and the rasps of their deep voices, and being clouded in the smell of sweat, cum, and body odors mixing, is fulfilling fantasies you hadn’t been creative enough to think up.
“Oh – Bard, can you – hah, yes, there –” Thranduil arches into the touch catlike, his back up in the air and the curve of his spine glistening, now that a few drops of sweat are decorating the skin, marked in pink trails of fingernails of a hand that twists slightly and adds another finger. 
Your chest is full of blonde hair, platinum after another inspection, strands perfect to comb your hands through. Thranduil’s lashes flutter beautifully. His lips open up, puffing out airy breaths, pink plush lips coated in spit after he runs his tongue over them. 
Biting down a comment of how he had been right about the ‘shutting up and dicking down’, you act without thinking. The kiss is much slower and sensual than the last, maybe to distract Thranduil from that pain/pleasure that Bard afflicts on him, opening him up four fingers at one time. Soon though, the grind of Thranduil’s hips becomes too much to endure, he already left a wet trail of precum all over you and while you’re still gasping into his mouth, you blindly reach between your bodies. 
“Goddamit,” you grunt, angling your hips slightly, “You’re no help at all.”
“What?” Thranduil groans and everything vibrates, “I’m the one having four fingers up my arse, can’t you just wait a fucking second?” 
“Mhm, no.”
“You’re such a brat,” he leans down, hair fanning over you and trapping you in a bubble where it’s just you, his panting breath and the fire in his eyes; he’s gorgeous. “I’m sorry but –”
“Apology accepted,” you cut him off, smiling sweetly.
A second later you swear you’re being ripped apart; immediately tears spring into your eyes, hiding Thranduil’s satisfied smirk behind a watery curtain as he pushes his cock in further, stretching you past known limits. The only proof that you’re still breathing is the pitchy moan, the whine that follows the stretch of inch after inch.
“Fuuck–” 
It’s going on forever. The rocking of Thranduil’s hips. The slow drill of his cock pushing its way through you, carving a spot into your clenching walls. Surely it’ll come out of your throat. 
You blink fast, regain your vision, and look down.
“Oh my fucking god,” you slap a hand against Thranduil’s shoulder, trying to get a grip on reality, “How are you this big?”
“He’s a mouthful,” Bard pitches in, grinning, and finally reaches a point where he has prepared Thranduil enough. He spits again; once into his hand, which he immediately closes around his cock again, and once between the globes of Thranduil’s ass, watching it trail down. Bard gathers some of Thranduil’s long hair to gently push it over his side. “Are you ready, my love?” he bows down for a soft kiss to the protruding bones of Thranduil’s arched spine.
Ironically, that's what finally gets you and Thranduil on the same page. 
A page that was full of unintelligible curses, punctuated by groans and underlined by hands grabbing for each other. 
Your hand digs itself into Thranduil’s back as he finally bottoms out, buried so deep you can feel him in the back of your throat – or that’s the pressure from that massive cock bullying your insides – and he stills, hipbones digging into you as well as if he hasn’t already marked you up enough with his girth.
Bard reaches forward, thus pushing in faster than Thranduil expects it and your fingers intertwine over the blonde's back. Electricity zips through you, starting from your toes pressing into the sheets, up your shaking thighs to your clenching cunt, and higher up your spine into your head.
Thranduil, fully sandwiched between you, can do nothing except follow the unforgivable rhythm Bard sets. 
The bed creaks as he rocks into you, just when Bard pushes in. The start is messy, lots of “There–” and “Fuck, slower–” until they change it up. 
Thranduil’s breathing is ragged and erratic as he moves against you, his hips pistoning against yours in a steady, firm rhythm. His arms hold you in place, his body covering you completely, lips moving along your neck and shoulder. You, being just on the receiving end, take everything he gives.
“Finally out of complaints, aren’t you?” he angles his hips to thrust harder. “A – ahh – all you needed was a good cock to shut you up.” 
You almost gag on a whine, proving him just right. “No– so-ohh – not true.”
A fleeing look to Bard and you’re silently begging. For what you don’t know. Maybe his support. Maybe to fuck Thranduil hard enough he swallows his words.
“Oh, Thranduil,” Bard starts and you truly think he’ll be on your side,  “If she’s still trying to mouth back you’re doing something – fuck – wrong!”
Thranduil laughs, fucking laughs. Each snap of his hips fills the room with shameless sounds, and as painful as it is to admit, his low baritone causes your pussy to clench tighter, dripping arousal. The fire they started burns higher when he wedges one hand down between your legs, somehow landing on your clit perfectly despite the brutal pace of his and Bard’s thrust. 
“You should’ve come up the first day you heard us,” Thranduil spits out, “Could’ve had this cock making you happy every night. You needed this, right? Someone, to fuck you stupid? Did you lie awake all night and listened to Bard fucking me, fiddling with yourself as if your dumb little fingers could ever come close to this?” His middle finger demonstratingly flicks your clit up.
“Please, oh– please, please,” you sob, the messy circles he’s rubbing with his thumb dumbing you down to a mumbling mess. Pleasure dances in every vein, lights up nerve endings in white-hot fire. 
"Gosh, I think I’m feeling that stick I had been talking about,” Thranduil rasps, pressing his palm against your lower stomach, bringing out another wail, “Oh wait no, that's just me giving you exactly what you needed." 
You’re wringing out his cock, every stroke sends him deeper and deeper, crushing your g-spot, urged on by the slaps of Bard’s balls. He’s taking it slower, staying against Thranduil’s prostate and spreading his hands in the long hair to control when his boyfriend slams into you. 
“C’mon, honey. Be good and come on Thran’s cock, won’t you? He’s so sorry for his bratty behavior but as you can see –” Bard sends his hand down swiftly, shocking you as his palm lands flat on Thranduil’s right cheek with a loud ‘smack’; a scream of pleasure and Bard pats the already reddening skin, “he’s insatiable.” 
That’s what does it for you, in the end. 
Already spiraling toward the edge with Thranduil’s pace and his fingers slipping, rubbing, flicking in all directions, it’s the calmness in Bard that sends you over. The relaxed hold in Thranduil’s hair, how he thrones above you, patiently waiting for his turn because he’s already fucked Thranduil twice tonight – what are another few minutes of watching you slurring their names?
If Thranduil’s cock broke you in half, the orgasm that spikes through you angrily and into every cell splinters whatever’s there to shred. It’s blinding, hot and cold, a wildfire and ice bath. It’s the strongest you’ve cum in a while and your brain shuts down. 
Thranduil groans as you clench around him, but, sensing – or seeing it in your fucked out expression – that you can’t take anymore, he drags his cock out of you. 
Half conscious your head drops to the side as you try to catch a breath that isn’t sweat and hair. Through blurred eyes, you have a front-row seat to the change in Bard. He swiftly lifts his head once, shaking back his hair and exposing the long column of his throat and the muscles that flex in his shoulder, before he’s sprawled atop Thranduil, grabbing the red and heavy cock wet with your cum and fucks him. 
Raw and unapologetic. 
Fingers pull on Thranduil’s hair, forcing his head back into his neck and Thranduil groans, arching his back closer to Bard. It’s a glorious sight, their hips meeting again and again, Bard’s hand wrapped around Thranduil’s cock, pulling and jacking him off in that same rhythm that Thranduil had rubbed you earlier.
Bard’s panting as well now, grinding more than thrusting and watches himself disappear inside Thranduil. “You feel so good, Thran–” he mumbles, “one more time for me, alrigh’ gorgeous? You did perfectly tonight, taking me three times.”
The praise continues to rain, hailing down like the short and precise twitches of Bard’s hips and when Thranduil hits the bed in a low moan of Bard’s name, coating the bedsheets underneath him white, Bard follows shortly after; buried deep inside his boyfriend.
For a while, the room is filled with efforts to catch your breath. Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, glistening on Thranduil and Bard lying close to each other next to you as well. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, “the neighbors are gonna hate us.”
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jamneuromain · 1 month
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Stalker Lady pt. 1
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (You)
Word Count: ~1.5k
Warning: Mean!Simon Riley, Voice (PORN) actor!Simon Riley, patron!reader, neighbor!AU, description of audio porn and stalking behavior. bad language word people we're talking about audio porn here
Summary: You meet Simon unexpectedly. Unfortunately, he thinks you are a stalker.
A/N: This fic is my rehab-going-back-into-writing fic. And it's the first time I'm writing for "Ghost" I've honestly never played COD. But here's my idea of the scary (not really lol) simon ghost riley :3
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After enduring your rented noisy flat for nearly six months, the construction of your new house is finally completed, which is a total relief. You now have a house of your own.
It’s a small place in the suburbs, with a handful of neighbors on the same block, and a decent lawn that you need not pay too much attention to besides mowing occasionally. More importantly, the quietness.
You’ve settled for this house because of the friendly neighbors and the quietness around the place. Most houses are properly wrapped up in thick walls and heavy planks so no noises would escape. The only sounds that constantly appear from outside of the window are the birds chirping and the laughs and talks from family and friends.
This.
This is the perfect place for you.
You met the Pinewood Residential Community Committee (Really? A community committee? You could be in tears) the day you moved in. A group of five that consisted of three of the actual committee and two of your neighbors. The house to your right lives a delightful family whose wife Sarah came to visit and brought you homemade cookies. The house to your left harbors a tall silent man called Simon who has dark circles under his eyes (You doubt the house was enough for him because he looked like a Tall-nut that could poke through the roof). Most of the time he just nodded to whatever the rest of them were chatting about. He gave you a brand-new Bluetooth speaker about the size of your palm, saying that it might come in handy if you want to play music without carrying your phone around the house.
You were grateful.
For the committee. For the friendly neighbors. For the speaker, even.
Until the day you decide to try this speaker out.
Present day, today, this very hour, you have been fighting with this unruly speaker.
You have pushed buttons. Connecting it to the charger and unplugged it twice. Flipped the on/off switch. Turned the volume thingy at the top to the maximum. Turned up the phone volume, too.
Nothing.
No sound coming out.
While your phone mocks at you by showing you that you have already connected it and no sound is coming out.
You googled, searched, and tried reading the instructions, but nothing helped.
You sigh. Snatch the speaker and the small piece of paper with instructions and head to your neighbor’s place.
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Simon is just finishing up his work for today.
It’s not a job, per se, but trades his time and patience for some of the allowances.
Actually, scratch that, he has been making more from this not-job job than spending time in the military, which says something.
He has been considering making this job a little permanent, aside from his part-time work to deliver posts and mails.
He starts the day early, driving his van to the local post office, loading the bunch of stuff onto his backseat, and finishing driving around the blocks at around 1 pm. Works a little on his side job, goes to bed at 9 or 10, simple as that.
He leaves the recording room of his house, only pausing his steps to the showers when he hears something coming from his living room…?
He heads back to the recording room, making sure his laptop is turned off, his phone is on airplane mode (which has stayed that way for a while, he must add, to prevent it from interrupting his recording), and his iPad certainly has not connected to his Bluetooth. Which is … odd?
Because why is one of his recordings playing on his Bluetooth speaker?
Simon winces at his own grunts and moans from the speaker. He’s not particularly proud of it, okay, that he is a member of an audio porn production team. He takes time recording himself reading various scripts of monologues that end up taking the imaginative figure of a woman to bed.
Yes, he records himself twice a week.
Yes, he makes male-for-female porn.
Yes, he never shows his face and has a silly stage name called “Ghost”.
Yes, he does (very occasionally) custom-made fan audio for those generous patrons.
Yes, this is a custom-made audio playing on his Bluetooth – wait what?
A few soft knocks land on his door before he can comprehend what mystical force is toying with his speaker.
“Brilliant.” He grumbles to himself under his breath, “Fucking brilliant.”
Now he has another thing to tend to besides figuring out his haunted speaker.
He turns the volume down, shoving the small gadget into the sofa cushions before it can be haunted again.
Opening the door.
And there you are.
“Oh! Um, hi!” You are stepping down the porch, thinking that he must be busy, but the noise of the locks startles you a little, turn around to see your neighbor Simon, “Hi, I live next door. Uh, I moved here about a week ago?”
Cute.
He thinks to himself.
Technically, his first impression was supposed to be a week ago when he visited your place for the first time, but he missed his nap time so the thirty minutes spent there consisted of him keeping himself awake – hardly, more like keeping his head straight and eyes open, which he failed, for at least a dozen times or so.
Rude. He knows. But he is not the kind of social butterfly either, so you kinda get what you deserve by moving in next to him.
“Yeah.” He grunts, his mind still on the fucking Bluetooth, “Wha’d you need, luv?”
“I think this speaker is … I don’t know what’s wrong with it, it just … no sound coming out of it.” You chew on your lower lip sheepishly, “Would you mind helping out, please?”
“Tried to dial the volume on your phone louder?” He raised his eyebrows at you.
“Yeah, I did, I-” You fumble with your phone, giving him a moment to look at the speaker under your arm.
One glance at the Bluetooth speaker in your hand, same brand, same model, but different color, connects the dots for Simon in his mind.
It is obvious as daylight that you accidentally connected to his speaker.
“I’ll try turn it up-” You push the buttons on the side of your phone, turning the volume up to the loudest.
And a guttural groan comes from his couch.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweet’art.” His couch moans loudly, “You’re killin’ me with that sweet cunny-”
Simon acts quickly, yanks you inside the house by the arm, and slams the door shut.
“That’s my speaker.” He says, quietly.
Your stupid fingers finally manage to turn the volume down. You completely forgot about the audio playing on your phone – your favorite audio, the one you have listened to and cummed to for at least a handful of times. Your face instantly goes aflame. You were planning some quality time with your toy, but not this! You are not connecting to your neighbor’s speaker and standing at his doorstep!
The deadly silence is eating you up.
“Um. Guess it’s not … wrong?” You let out a dry chuckle, your mind a puddle of jellyfish that zaps your neurons into firing the wrong sparks, “I’ll, um, go upstairs – my home, my place, I mean. Thank you for tonight.” Your face scrunches together out of sheer embarrassment.
His iron grasp on your arm is unwavering.
He has some patrons online, but the fact that you are one of them and live next door is … a bit too much of a coincidence.
“You a stalker or wha’?” He growls at you. His eyes flash a dangerous glint as he recalls what had happened to one of his friends, John, with the stage name “Soap”. Soap works with Simon in the small group of audio porn production called “Team 141”. Soap was careless about his whereabouts, leading to a crazy woman piecing together information and ambushing him when he gets home from his day job.
“Wha- what?” You sound completely baffled. “What are you even talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb, sweet’art. Doesn’t work like ‘at.” Simon eyes at the now-silent speaker on his couch, before returning his gaze to your startled expression, which is indeed fright, but for different reasons than he’d think of – the fear of being found that you stalked to his house. “Peachy? Peach? ‘s that your Discord name? Coz this is a specialized piece, custom-made. An’ I made it myself.”
Your eyes widen at the confession. Your Discord name is indeed, Peachyyy,with two extra Y, and it hits you that this man you are confronting, who is confronting you, might be the one who sent this audio as a special gift to you, their patron.
Every patron for the Team 141 could designate a voice actor for their custom-made audio. When you were notified that you could also participate in deciding the actor of the audio, without a second to stop and think, you chose your favorite one of “Team 141”.
“Ghost”.
Simon “Ghost” Riley let out a cold smirk. He believes he has this all figured out.
“I won’t report you. Not yet. But if I find you ten feet within my vicin’ty,” His teeth bared, sharp canines ready to rip something apart, throat rumbling like a true animal, “I’ll get your pretty arse locked up and thrown into jail. Run along now, stalker lady.”
Monster! You shriek. Or perhaps that’s a pitiful whimper under his massive shadow, and flee from his grasp.
Part 2
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angie-likes-to-art · 2 months
Text
Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition VI)
All fics are fem!reader
Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist
Bad For Business (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve (18+ Only)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “An enemies to lovers AU. Join the team at the Upside Down Arcade, where the machines eat your quarters and the staff have some personal issues.”
hey. (Series, Completed) by @stevesharrlngtons
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “he was such a staple piece in your life, that as a child and young teen, you never saw your life without him. late night promises and pinky swears were made in blanket forts that you two would be friends until the day the sun burned out in the sky. it was just a given that’d he be there, that you never worried about the two of you drifting apart or being separated. he promised he’d always be there, and you had believed him. you now corrected yourself, foolishly believed him.”
Disappointed Revalations by @ahsokaismyqueen
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Summary: “ After working on a school project together, you had actually started to believe that there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eye. All of that changes after an interaction with Jonathan Byers.”
Indifferent by @stevesherdaddynowlover (18+ Only)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention ”
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN by @eddiesghxst (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Pornstar!Reader Summary: “eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you”
Noisy Neighbors by @eddiesxangel (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader’s Girlfriend x Reader Summary: “Eddie has no idea what he’s getting into with the two new girls next door.”
Absolutly Smitten by @starryeyedstories
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “ There’s a new crew member at Scoops Ahoy and Steve might have a crush.”
the swindling of steve harrington’s heart by @stevebabey
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates… right?”
That Guy by @appocalipse
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him…”
Eyes Half Shut by @crappymixtape
Pairing: Steve Harrington  x Reader Summary: “hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington?”
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solarmorrigan · 4 months
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54 + 12 for steddie!
Okay, I know the prompt list says I'm supposed to describe how I'd use the tropes in the same story, but I got.... carried away. I just really love outsider POV
Fanfiction Trope Mashup prompts: 54. Secret relationship + 12. Roommate AU
cw: allusions to period-typical homophobia
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Gladys hadn’t been sure what to make of her new neighbors at first.
She didn’t like the idea of them, to be certain: two young men living in the apartment across the way, who would probably come and go at all hours, noisy and inconsiderate as anything – especially the long-haired one she’d spotted carrying a guitar case.
A month in, however, her initial assessment doesn’t seem to have proven true; she does see them come and go at all hours, but they aren’t noisy about it, and she hasn’t heard any kind of raucous guitar playing. They seem to keep to themselves, and that suits Gladys just fine.
And then grocery day comes, and Gladys is trying to jog from the front door to the elevator before it closes, both arms loaded with bags. She spots her long-haired neighbor already in the elevator, and he spots her, and he holds the door for her before she can even call and ask him to.
He then offers to help with the bags, and Gladys unloads both of the heavy paper sacks on him with a relieved sigh; she tries to keep in shape, but she doesn’t have the strength she did when she was younger, and her joints sometimes ache like mad.
“I’m Eddie, by the way,” the man says into the silence of the elevator as they ride up to the fourth floor. “I don’t think we really introduced ourselves when we moved in, but I live across the hall from you.”
“I recognize you,” Gladys says. Then adds, “Gladys Gaines.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you officially, Miss Gladys,” Eddie says with a grin. “I’d offer to shake, but my hands are otherwise occupied.”
He shifts the grocery bags demonstratively, pretends for a moment that they’re weighing him down, though he’d been having no trouble with them until then, and Gladys finds herself smiling. “Never mind that,” she says. “And it’s nice to meet you, too.”
Eddie helps her put the groceries away, and she finds him to be charming, in an animated sort of way, bursting with energy and humor.
The sink gives him pause, though, after he ducks beneath it to put away a bottle of dish detergent as directed. He watches it drip for several consecutive seconds before asking, “Is the faucet giving you trouble?”
“It’s been driving me up the wall for weeks,” Gladys huffs as she stashes a loaf of bread in the breadbox. “But of course maintenance is taking their sweet time to get to it.”
“Huh. Y’know, Steve—my, uh, roommate—he’s pretty good at home repair stuff like this. I could get him to come take a look at it, if you want,” Eddie offers.
“If he can get that awful drip to stop, I’ll be in your debt,” Gladys says.
Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Madam, that’s a dangerous thing to declare.”
“Oh, hush.” Gladys slaps at him with a dish towel, and the boy pretends to be mortally wounded.
Laughing, Gladys finds that she quite likes Eddie.
She likes Steve, too, when he shows up at her door the next afternoon with a bag of tools and a little wave ‘hello.’
“Eddie said your faucet was leaking?” he offers. “Oh– I’m Steve. From across the way.”
“I recognize you,” Gladys says, and she shows him to the kitchen.
Steve is a solid, steady presence that Gladys can imagine compliments Eddie’s high energy well; he’s boyish and sweet, but there’s something sharper underneath that reminds Gladys of her own Avery’s cutting wit.
Gladys finds out from Steve that he and Eddie are from a tiny, rural town; they’re new to city life, but they’re enjoying it even in their adjustment period. Eddie works full time while Steve works part-time and attends classes – he’s hoping to become a guidance counselor.
“That’s an unusual arrangement for roommates,” Gladys comments. “Eddie doesn’t mind taking on most of the bills?”
It’s a bit of a prying question—rude, some might say, but Gladys doesn’t see the point in getting old if you’re not allowed to be blunt—but Steve only ducks his head and smiles.
“No, Eddie’s– he’s a great guy. Helping me out like this,” he says before turning back to the sink. “Here, try it now.”
Gladys turns the faucet on, then turns it back off, watching as the flow of water comes to a complete stop, not a drip to be seen.
“Dear, you’re a miracle worker,” Gladys declares.
“It was nothing,” Steve says.
He turns away to pack up his tools, but not quite quickly enough to hide the smile on his face – pleased but a little bashful, like he isn’t used to being complimented like this. It’s a nice smile, Gladys thinks, and both Steve and Eddie are nice boys. She decides that yes, she really does like them.
Offering to pay Steve for his services seems a little tawdry, so Gladys invites the boys over for dinner, instead. They end up staying well into the evening, talking and laughing with her. Steve eats up all the gossip about the other building tenants that Gladys can dish out, and Eddie eggs them on.
When they say that they’ll have to have her over for dinner next, Gladys braces herself for the worst: the apartment of two busy young bachelors, Lord have mercy.
She’s pleasantly surprised to find, then, that it isn’t so bad at all. It’s a bit cluttered—particularly the desk shoved into the corner covered in graph paper and what appear to be tiny plastic figurines—but it’s quite clean.
After she’s offered to help with dinner and been politely denied, Gladys spends time looking at the photos they have pinned up on the wall. There are over a dozen, a collage of smiles and laugher featuring the same cast of teenagers in varying stages of growth, often posing with Steve or Eddie. There are quite a few of just Steve and Eddie together mixed in, and Gladys is warmed to see two such good friends.
Steve does most of the cooking that evening, but Eddie is a capable sous chef, anticipating Steve’s every request before he can even voice what he needs.
“Hey, can you hand me the, uh–” Steve snaps his fingers, searching for the word, and Eddie opens a drawer and presses a slotted spoon into Steve’s hand. “Yeah, that.”
Eddie grins and goes back to cutting vegetables.
Dinner is nice.
It goes on like this – trading favors here and there, dinners at one apartment or the other, evenings spent talking and laughing. Gladys finds that Eddie is an excellent opponent when playing cards, and Steve shares her fondness for Murder She Wrote.
Gladys and Avery never did get around to having children. At first, they hadn’t had the money, then they hadn’t had the time, and eventually – well, it had been too late. She’s never really regretted it—her maternal instinct isn’t a strong one—but she does find herself starting to think of these boys as hers. She even starts in on knitting some sweaters; the weather it’s getting cold, after all, and it’s the sort of thing you do when you want the people you care about to be protected from it.
It does strike Gladys as a little odd that she only ever sees them with each other; they’re both attractive young men, after all, and she can’t imagine why they don’t seem to go on dates. She’s never seen two friends as content in each other’s company as they are, but she supposes that’s really all that matters – that they’re content.
Things become clearer, however, one sleepless night months after the boys move in.
Insomnia isn’t new to Gladys; she’s dealt with it since she was young, and it seems like age has only increased the frequency of those nights she lies awake, staring at her bedroom ceiling.
She’s found her own ways of coping, over the years; she’ll fill the time with a good book or do some word puzzles or get some knitting in. If she’s feeling particularly restless, she might clean the apartment or even bake something.
She’s just considering whether or not the boys would appreciate some cinnamon rolls come morning (and whether or not it would top that loaf of cinnamon raisin bread Steve had made last week, not that Gladys is keeping track) when she hears the very subject of her thoughts come giggling down the hall.
The boys aren’t being loud, precisely, but they aren’t quiet, either, and there are fewer sounds in the night to swallow up their noise.
They sound happy – they must have had a late night out, coming home a little goofy and tipsy, talking and laughing and then shushing each other as they come to a halt, sounding close enough that they must be outside their own door, just across and to the left of Gladys’.
There’s a moment of indecision, and then Gladys is rising from her chair and crossing to the door. She feels a little silly, but the sight of a friendly face on a sleepless night can sometimes do wonders to soothe her nerves.
She’ll just pop out and say hello, a fellow after-midnighter, and then let them go.
She’s barely opened her door, however, just catching a glimpse of the boys, when something– unexpected happens.
Eddie is fumbling with his keys as Steve leans further and further into his space, and Gladys wonders if he’s drunker than he sounds, but then–
“Hey,” Steve murmurs, waiting for Eddie to look up, and it’s all the warning Eddie gets before Steve is kissing him full on the mouth.
Eddie drops his keys entirely, but it isn’t in shock so much as it is his apparent eagerness to get his hands on Steve, cupping his cheek in one and grabbing his hip with the other, pulling him closer.
This isn’t drunken fumbling – it isn’t even something new, Gladys realizes. The kiss is slow and gentle and lingering, the love in it so evident that for a moment an ache of longing, of missing Avery, rises up in Gladys’ chest.
Then, though he’d been the one to encourage the kiss, Eddie is the one to break it, and when he speaks, he’s properly quiet this time. Gladys can just barely hear him.
“Someone’s gonna see, baby.”
“Let ‘em,” Steve says, just as soft.
“Steve…”
Steve sighs, pressing his forehead to Eddie’s. “I wish I could show you off. Tell everyone how much I love you.”
Eddie in spite of his own warning, holds Steve close for a moment longer, swaying him gently. “No one else matters. I know you love me,” he says. “Come inside and show me how much?”
Glady’s can’t see Steve’s grin from this angle, but she can hear it when he says, “Yeah. I can do that.”
Then Eddie gathers his keys from the floor and actually manages to get the door open, pulling Steve in and shutting it after them and–
Well.
Gladys stands alone now, her door still cracked open, showing her the empty hallway, and–
Well.
Actually– well, actually, certain things make quite a bit more sense now.
“My, uh, roommate,” indeed.
Gladys closes her door, wandering back towards her easy chair as she thinks.
The only thing that doesn’t make sense is the two of them having the idea that they have to keep this from her. Utter nonsense.
Gladys will show them, though; her boys—and their secret—will always be safe with her.
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hannieween · 10 months
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reverie | city lights series | h.js
Joshua Hong was many things aside from your hot neighbour—he was a menace, a relentless tease. But most importantly, he was the first guy to ever make you feel wanted. And you were yet to know how dangerous that was.
✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: smut (18+) ✮ word count: 16.2k ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, neighbors with benefits
› part i — link to my other fics
›🎧: best lover - bibi | thirsty - taemin | crazy like you - chungha, bibi | poison - nct dream ♡︎
› smut tags under the cut
✮ warnings: alcohol use, dubcon: reader is drunk and joshua helps her change to pjs, smut with plot, big dick Joshua, dom Joshua, dirty talk, foul language, praise kink, somewhat inexperienced reader, multiple sex scenes, fingering (f. receiver), oral sex (f, m) guided blowjob, cum swallowing, protected sex, squirting, brat taming: bondage, orgasm control (f), use of toys and overstimulation (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f, m), pet names: baby, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart, bunny (hers)
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part ii
"Zero survival instincts," Yen scoffed, "None. Out the window."
"Yen, I'm fine," you insisted. "Nothing bad happened."
She sent you an irritated look. "What if he was a serial killer?"
You rolled your eyes. "He's not, Yen. He's just my neighbor."
"Are you serious right now?" she asked. "The least you could've done was sending me a text: 'hey yen, i'm inviting my neighbour over to fuck me into the next day, don't worry, he's not going to turn me into jerky'."
You laughed at the crude language, your best friend simulating typing on an imaginary phone.
"Shhh, keep it down, Yen," you muttered when you saw people from the tables around you glance at you.
Sitting at a cozy table for two in a charming bar, the atmosphere around him was quiet, with the soft glow of candlelight. The surrounding tables were occupied by couples, either engaged in a romantic conversation or trying to start one.
In the quiet atmosphere, your table stood out as the noisy one, occupied by two women who were indulging in the warmth of alcohol and pastries.
And, truth be told, were quite drunk on red wine.
"If he killed you at least I'd have something to tell the police," she continued with another roll of her eyes.
"But he didn't kill me. We just had sex, that's it."
She looked around your table, and suddenly you could sense that she was really invested. "How was it, then?"
You felt a sudden twinge in the apex of your thighs from just the memory of your last.
"It was so good," you sighed, and leaned on the table. "It was really really good, Yen. The best I had in my life, I think. Yeah, definitely."
"Wow, damn," she muttered, a sly grin appearing on her round face. "Not gonna lie. I'm jealous."
You chuckled. "I'm actually kind of surprised that he accepted, though," your brow furrowed, feeling your cheeks grow hotter in the mixture of being drunk and flustered at the memory. "He is so hot, Yen. Like really, really hot."
"Okay, okay. I believe you," she scoffed. "You know, when I told you to commit to writing sex scenes, I didn't mean to go methodical," she gave you a look and then smiled slyly again.
"What, I felt like I needed to experience the real thing before writing pages about it," you shrugged.
"That's a lame excuse," she said as she swirled her wine glass in the air.
"I think it's working," you leaned your cheek against your palm, your elbow propped up on the table.
"Oh, oh. Can I read the product of your little adventure?" her eyes widened.
"God, no," you recoiled at the thought. "This is just for... inspiration. There's still a lot of things I want to try before finishing the manuscript."
"What—wait a minute," she held up her hand. "Are you going to keep seeing him?"
You blinked. "Yeah, I didn't tell you?" your brow furrowed.
"Do you mean to tell me that you'll be fucking your neighbour until you finish the manuscript?!"
"Yen, it's fine," you shushed. "It's just sex. There's nothing to worry about."
Nothing to worry about. Except there was hardly anything that could take your mind off the memory.
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As you walked to the interior of your building after being dropped off by Yen, all you could keep thinking was to knock on his door. Just go, knock and he'd know. That was your deal.
You have been wanting to do that all week. But you were reluctant about it because you didn't want to come across as needy.
It was now Wednesday, three nights after that night with Joshua. You had slept together, and in the following morning he left.
You stumbled out of the elevator and into the hallway, feeling so tipsy that you almost took a full minute to be certain of which of the doors led to your apartment.
The device on your door was a smart-lock that simply functioned as a key. You didn't bring your keys, so you entered your six number combination.
The beeping noise from the smart-lock of your door indicated that you had only two more attempts left before being locked out of your apartment for the next hour.
You hummed, attempting to keep steady, but couldn't ignore the gentle sway of your body from side to side. Biting your lower lip, you struggled to concentrate, but the effects of the wine bottle were swiftly taking hold.
With a click of your tongue, you stepped back to double check you were standing in front of your door. You were.
"C'mon. You can do this," you hissed to yourself as you tried to enter the combination of your smart lock.
Beep beep. Wrong again.
One attempt left.
"What," you whispered to your lock again.
You tried to rest your head on your door for more stability, but when your forehead landed a loud thud resounded on the hallway.
"Ow," you winced.
Maybe you should ask for help.
No. You can do this. Is a simple stupid lock.
The sound coming from the door next to yours startled you. But you made no attempt to move your forehead from your door, expecting to see either Joshua or his roommate, the latter you haven't met yet.
But the sweet voice calling your name from the next door made you want to sink into the ground and never be seen again.
Joshua doesn't need to see you like this, you said to yourself.
"Are you okay?" Joshua asked, and you jolted to find him next to you, his eyes examining your drowsy ones.
"Um, I can't enter my combination," you mumbled as one of your hands pushed the hair from your face.
"You're drunk," he realized then, his fingers taking your chin for his eyes to survey you, a small smile appearing on his lips. "What did you have?"
Your cheeks were already flushed from the wine, but you could swear a different kind of warmth started burning beneath your skin the exact moment he touched you.
Before you could answer to his question, you take a brief look at him. Joshua wore an oversized gray plaid shirt, a black t-shirt underneath, and light gray sweatpants. A cap adorned his head, hiding his dark hair. You came to the conclusion that, whatever he was wearing, he would no doubt look hot.
Your mouth went dry. "Jus' a bottle of wine," you muttered, trying to brush off his hand but not succeeding.
"D'you have your keys?" he said as you drunkenly tried to enter your combination to no avail. His large hand swatted yours before you could enter any numbers on the pad.
"Keys," you repeated. "Don't think so."
"Let me help you before you lock yourself out," he hushed with his cute smile. "Tell me your combination."
The combination to your smart lock escaped your lips, trusting him with it completely without a second thought. He entered the combination and the lock beeped again, the small light blinking green.
"There you go," he muttered.
"Thank you," you whispered, pushing your door open and turning around to see his face one last time before going to bed.
You opened your mouth, feeling a strange tickling under your skin as you faced him.
"I uh..."
When no other words came out, Joshua smiled softly with a sigh and entered your apartment with you.
"Come on, princess. I'll take you to bed," he muttered and closed the door behind him, taking your hand gently and pulling you to the interior of your apartment.
"Mmkay," you cooed, letting him drag you to your bedroom.
In the darkness of your apartment, you saw him dressed in a way that was atypical of his usual style, almost as if he had thrown on whatever he found first–
"You look cute with a cap," you blurted before you could even stop yourself.
"You think so, princess?" he replied and took his cap off to put it on your head. "You look cute too."
A giggle bubbled up in your chest. "Caps make m'ears look bigger," you slurred.
As you entered your bedroom, you removed the cap from your head and, at the same time, stumbled upon a pile of forgotten clothes scattered on the floor. You vaguely remembered throwing them aside while you were looking for something to wear for tonight.
"Careful," he mumbled, catching you before you hit the ground. "You're tripping with those big ears of yours, bunny."
You burst into high-pitched laughter, which resembled a kid's. As if you had just heard the funniest joke. Joshua smiled as he heard you, an endearing expression on his face.
It made you feel fuzzy inside.
"Why did you drink tonight? What was the occasion, I mean," he asked as he helped you sit on your bed.
He crouched before you and started removing your shoes. Every action was carefully done, nothing was rushed, everything was carried out with delicacy.
"I went out with my best friend to this really fancy bar," you told him with an air of contentment.
"What's your friend's name?" he asked almost a second later.
Then, in the back of your mind where you still had some lucidity, you gathered that he was trying to keep you fully awake as he helped you climb your high bed.
"Yen, Yena," you mumbled.
With a sudden movement, your body fell back against the soft mattress and you gasped. Your head spun rapidly and the rush that ran through your body caused you to giggle.
"Careful there," he cautioned, just as he was taking your socks off. You could also hear him laughing a bit.
"Are you laughing at me?" you whined, your hands instinctively covering your warm cheeks as giggles continued to escape.
"I would never, princess. You're cute when you're drunk," he replied simply.
"Mmm, you don't think I'm ridiculous?" your voice was muffled by the hands burying your face.
"Why would I think that?" you heard him ask.
"Dunno," you mumbled sheepishly. "'m really drunk, J'shua," you slurred.
"I know, bunny," he chuckled. "Where are your pjs?"
You slowly uncovered your face to see him standing before your bed.
"Second drawer," you replied pointing to the drawers next to your bed, feeling your cheeks blaze.
There was no real reason to feel this shy, considering that Joshua had already seen every inch of your naked body. But the idea of him taking care of you took on new meaning in your mind. It made you feel closer to him.
"Oooh, what do we have here?" he said with a cheeky grin.
Then he pulled a pink lace thong, holding it up in the air with his fingers.
"Joshua!" you gasped. "That's not the second drawer!"
He giggled playfully. "Oops, my bad," he said, but continued rummaging on your stuff, pulling out a see-through mesh red bra. "This is really nice, bunny. Will you wear it next time for me?"
You groaned helplessly, but before you could come up with a quippy response, his eyes widened in surprise.
"Princess, you didn't tell me you had toys," he said with a surprised tone, dropping the playful act.
"Stop," you whined with a laugh and turned to crawl across your large bed toward him.
Before you could even make it to the other side of your bed, you stumbled and your face collided with the mattress, making you erupt into uncontrollable laughter.
You heard his genuine laugh resonate through the room, causing a flutter in your stomach, followed by the muffled noise of the drawer shutting close.
"Alright, alright. Time for bed," he announced, and a hand gently flipped you on the mattress. He sat on the edge of the bed next to your body. "I'm going to take your top off, okay?"
You nodded a little too eagerly, and that made him smile with a shake of his head.
"Now don't get any ideas, sweetheart," he said.
Then his hands grabbed the hem of the cute top you wore to your date with your best friend.
As the top came off and you were left under his gaze, you felt as if your whole skin was on fire, every inch tingling with an overwhelming sensation.
But he remained silent. You tried to make out the expression on Joshua's face, while he was deeply focused on his task, giving no signals that he wanted to do more with your body.
"Bra on or off?" he asked softly.
"Off," you whispered, feeling a sudden impatience take over your mind and body despite the effects from the wine still strumming on your ears.
"Kay," he replied in the same tone. "Arch your–"
You instantly arched your back for him before he could even finish the sentence. His eyes examined your face again with a hint of curiosity. 
"I'm starting to think you're enjoying this, princess," he said with a cheeky smile.
When a hand slid behind your back, it was then that you realized he was keeping his touch on your skin at a minimum. Joshua unclasped the pretty bra you wore, his fingers removing the straps from your shoulders without touching your skin.
Something sparked in you when his gaze wandered over your naked skin. Darkened eyes marveled at your tits as your nipples hardened from the bite of cool air and the skin around them bumped helplessly.
A small silent whine bubbled in your chest, your whole body tingling, needing to be sated by his touch. You gulped hard. He noticed.
"Do you want me to continue?" he asked with a gentle tone, so low you barely heard it above the buzzing in your eardrums.
"Yes," you whispered eagerly, looking at his eyes. "I trust you, Joshua."
At that, Joshua stopped and contemplated you. The momentary silence made you wonder if you had said something wrong, and you waited for his response.
But he just booped the tip of your nose.
"Sit up," he commanded with his sweet voice.
He extended his hands out to you to help you reincorporate in your bed so that he could put the top of your pyjamas on your body.
When you lay back on the soft covers of your bed, a sigh came out of you, revealing all the emotions that were bubbling up in your chest.
But Joshua interpreted it differently.
"Don't fall asleep yet. I need you awake for this," he urged with his sweet voice.
For a moment you thought that maybe you looked way too drunk. Perhaps, you felt better than you looked: the sluggishness of your limbs with every movement you made, the heavy eyelids, the clumsy tingling in your cheeks and mouth every time you spoke: all symptoms caused by the wine.
"I'm not sleeping," you said as you blinked slowly.
"Good girl," he muttered.
But the rest of your body was ablaze, desperate for his touch. You inhaled deeply, trying to fill your chest with something other than the desperate need for him.
The room was spinning. Was it spinning a minute ago? Who knows.
"I feel dizzy," you mumbled in a whiny tone.
"Hang on, princess. I'm almost done, okay?" he instructed. Still, you could hear that warmth in his voice. 
With careful fingers, he undid the zipper and button of your pants. You lifted your hips from the bed for him to slide them down your legs effortlessly.
Joshua was piling your clothes carefully on the foot of the bed, you noticed. He folded your pants in half and when he turned to you, he surveyed the lower half of your body, partially naked before him.
His darkened eyes found yours, an unspoken question written in them.
"Off," you whispered before he could ask.
A heavy sigh left him.
"Eyes on me, baby," he instructed again.
Then he removed your white lace thong, with so much care that his fingers didn't even graze your skin. He didn't skip a beat when he was already grabbing the matching bottoms of your bunny pyjamas, sliding them up your legs.
You smiled contently and made a move to sit up on the bed. "Need to wash," you muttered suddenly.
He smiled at the clumsiness to which you lowered yourself to the floor. "C'mon," he extended his hands to you and when you stood, you stumbled backwards a bit.
With his strong hands he helped you get to the bathroom without staggering and stood outside the door in case you needed help with anything, but still giving you the privacy to tend to your needs.
Afterwards, Joshua helped you to get under the sheets and covers of the bed, tucking you in, and then he bent down and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.
"Such a gentleman," you cooed with a weak smile.
"Here to help," he replied with a pressed smile. "Sleep now, princess. I'll see you tomorrow, m'kay?"
You reached for his hand before he could distance himself any further, stopping him in his tracks.
"Don't go," you mumbled.
He sat back down slowly and placed his hand on your tummy, the mere weight of his hand and the warmth seeping through the fabric of your pyjamas made you repress a whine.
"Sleep with me?" you slurred, clenching the hand that was still clasped by yours.
"You're drunk, sweetheart. I'll come by tomorrow," he said and patted your tummy softly.
"Please? I promise I won't try anything," you mumbled.
You felt your eyes involuntarily welling up a little. You knew it was partly due to the effects of alcohol, yet you also suspected it was because of the emotions you'd been accumulating over the past couple of days.
Looking conflicted, a small guttural groan escaped him.
"Fine," he groaned in defeat.
A smile of victory crept up your face as you did what he asked. He stood from your bed to remove his shoes and the grey shirt he was wearing. You watched him carefully place his stuff on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom.
He lay down beside you under the sheets, approaching you cautiously.
"How do you feel?" he mumbled.
"Better," you sighed softly.
"Still dizzy?" he asked, his eyes hopeful.
"Mm nope," you mumbled, 
Eyeing him shyly, you scooted toward his body and nuzzled softly on the side of his shoulder, feeling his warmth.
"Thank you for taking care of me, Joshua," you said as the scent of his cologne invaded your already overwhelmed senses.
An arm slid beneath your body, pulling you closer to his chest.
"Don't mention it," he replied.
"I didn't ruin any plans, right?" your head snapped back to look at him.
His fingers trailed on the side of your arm, causing goosebumps on your skin at their wake.
"Not really, no," he hummed. "I was thinking about you, actually."
"You were?" you asked in an embarrassingly high pitch tone.
"I wanted to see you, princess," he cooed, moving his head on the pillows to look you in the eye.
A flutter in your stomach took your focus away. Joshua wanted to see you. The way he made it sound was almost as if he missed you.
"Was thinking of knocking on your door."
Oh.
That had an entirely different meaning. Knocking on your door would mean that he wanted to have sex with you.
"You..." you mumbled awkwardly. "D'you still want to?"
Something shifted in your brain. He might have just missed your body, but it was still enough to rouse something within you. The alcohol offered little help, but instead intensified your body's every reaction.
The tingling in your face, the rush of warmth that washed through you, pooling between your legs.
"Definitely not, princess," he laughed softly, putting your ideas to rest. "I won't touch you like this," he finalized sternly.
You let out a whine that sounded more like a childish cry, burying your face in his chest and sighing in frustration.
"It's bad manners to have sex with people who are not sober, baby," he explained, his tone was not condescending, but almost sweet or caring.
"But what if I want to, Joshua," you mumbled, your flushed face still buried in the warmth of his hard chest.
"I'm not going to fuck you no matter how much you beg," he said with a small chuckle.
"But I wan' you to," you whined against his chest.
You were so close to his chest that you felt the strumming of his heart, heard the small sigh leave his body. Your fist scrunched up on his t-shirt.
"You told me you wouldn't try anything, princess," he reminded you sternly.
Joshua took the hand that has balled into a fist, grabbing on his shirt and laced his fingers with yours in an attempt to soothe you.
"Mm, it's jus'—I need you," you mumbled, sneaking a glance in his eyes.
"I'm here, bunny," he muttered softly.
"But I've been wanting to see you all week," you said with a sigh.
Your face grew hotter on your drunken confessions, but you forced yourself to make eye contact with him despite the daze from the wine.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked while the hand that grabbed yours played with your fingers.
"I didn't want you to think I'm needy," you mumbled sheepishly, still trying to hold eye contact, but your eyes were shifty. 
"What?" he asked with a feigned tone of surprise. "I thought we had already established the other night that you're needy. Like, really needy," he laughed.
You scoffed and hid your flushed face on his hard chest again, but he pulled back, his fingers on your chin forcing you to face him.
"I'm only joking, princess," he smiled reassuringly. "Whenever you want to you can let me know."
You opened your mouth but before you could protest, he added:
"As long as you're sober."
You let out a bashful sniffle and pouted.
"Tell you what: if you go to sleep now, I'll give you whatever you want tomorrow. How about that?" he asked, looking down to find your eyes, he let go of your hand and stroked the side of your face softly.
Your eyelids fluttered under his touch. "Whatever I want?" you asked, looking at his rosy lips and then his eyes.
"That's right, baby. Whatever you want," he conceded.
"Mmkay," you mumbled.
You relaxed in his embrace, letting go of your demands at that very moment.
"Good girl," he muttered, pressing his lips on your forehead for a long second before resting his head on the pillow next to yours.
Your cheeks flushed and a fluttering sensation invaded your chest.
"G'night, Joshua," you mumbled a second before you closed your eyes and fell asleep.
The following morning, you woke up to a headache drilling in the back of your head.
You groaned in pain, ears ringing as you opened your eyes to only wince in pain at the faint morning light filtering through the parted door of your otherwise blackout dark bedroom.
Still drowsy you looked to the other side of your bed to find Joshua asleep.
Your breath hitched at the sudden invasion of memories—you had partially forgotten that Joshua had spent the night in your bed with you again.
He was lying on his side, an arm extended to your direction. You had the faint memory of him hugging you close to his frame, so perhaps you fell out of his embrace during the night. 
Joshua's features looked relaxed, peaceful even. His flush lips pursed softly as he swallowed and nuzzled the pillow. The way he looked so cute and innocent made you smile a little. 
With every movement you took, your body protested in pain. But you hurried yourself to the bathroom, taking the time to properly wash and refresh yourself to recover from your hangover.
Under the warm stream of the shower, you mentally retraced the events of the night. The drunken confessions that spilled from your mouth. Joshua's careful hands changing your clothes and helping you to bed.
"How are you feeling?" he asked as soon as he saw you come back to your bedroom, your body wrapped in a bath towel.
He was still lying on his side, but something told you that he woke up the second he heard you leave the bedroom.
"I just have a light headache but I'll be fine," you assured him.
His hand, which was still extended in the same way as when you left, patted the space you occupied during the night.
"Come here," he muttered.
With a sigh that denoted your nervousness, you walked toward your bed and climbed next to him over the covers. You lay on your side, facing him, propping your head on your hand, your elbow on the pillow next to his.
"D'you remember what happened last night? Why I'm here?" he asked, his voice still groggy, but it sounded soft.
"It's not like I was black out drunk," you smiled. "I remember everything, Joshua."
"Jus' wanted to make sure," he whispered.
With a small nod of his head, his eyelids closed slowly and he seemed to dozed off again. His chest rising and falling heavily, his face relaxing to his lips parting a little.
You took a moment to appreciate his beauty before jumping down from your bed, darting your eyes toward the man lying on your bed—to find him asleep.
Then you unwrapped the towel that covered your body. Careful not to make a sound, you busied yourself moisturizing your skin while you cast a few glances at him, making sure he was asleep.
But a few seconds later, you noticed him stir in your bedsheets, his eyelids fluttering slowly as he found you standing before your bed, wholly naked.
Your breath hitched, but curiosity sparked within you when his eyes surveyed your whole body from top to bottom.
Attempting to ignore that he kept his gaze trained on your frame, you busied yourself on looking for something to wear.
"Don't get dressed," he muttered softly when he saw you rummage through your drawers.
You darted a look at him. His sleepy eyes on you, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Or do, I don't care. Just come back here," he sighed sluggishly, patting the side of the bed again.
You smiled shyly and climbed back to the spot you had taken a few minutes ago. You slid beneath the bed sheets, next to his warm body.
"You talk in your sleep," he hummed.
Then his hands grabbed you by the hips, with a sharp pull his chest was now pressing on yours, his arms encircling your naked body tightly to snuggle you as if he wanted to sleep again.
It was a sweet embrace, almost too intimate. A part of you couldn't deny you liked it—being this close to Joshua. You grabbed him by the shoulders, uneasy of being fully naked in his tight embrace.
"I–uh I didn't know," you whispered, your heart strumming so hard that you could almost sense that Joshua could feel it against his chest.
Truth be told, Joshua was the first man you had ever slept with. He wasn't your first sexual partner, that much was already disclosed with him—you've had a couple of other partners in the past, but none of them were memorable to even matter.
Joshua was the first to make you feel real pleasure, the first to make you orgasm, to make you feel wanted.
And you were yet to know how dangerous that is.
"What did I say?" you asked reluctantly.
He took a breath, as if remembering and then he let out a breathy laugh. "Bunch of nothings, but you went for hours."
"Oh god," you groaned. "I'm so sorry, Joshua."
"You didn't talk that much the other night," he paused. "But maybe you were too tired the other night to even speak, right princess?"
Your stomach jolted a bit.
"Mmm-mmph. So tired," you agreed despite the growing flush in your face. "Last night's ramble wouldn't have happened if I was tired too."
"Oh, bunny. You think you're so slick. But you're so bratty," he cooed mockingly as his hands explored your bare back, his fingers sinking in the skin of your hips.
"What are you going to do about it?" you asked through a breathy mumble when his hands caused your heart to race.
"Nothing," he stated softly.
A long silence happened between you and Joshua. You almost thought that he might have dozed off yet again, but when you pulled from his embrace, he was grinning menacingly.
"But you promised–"
"I never promised anything," his brow furrowed. "When have you ever heard me say the words 'I promise'? Never."
A frustrated groan came out from you before you could stop it.
"You told me you would do anything I asked today!" you whined, feeling ashamed by his game.
"See, I never promised," he cooed again.
"But you said–"
"And I will do it, sweetheart," he cut in. "But I never specified at what time of the day I'll do it."
"Joshua!" you whined again, feeling the need to cover your flushed face.
He laughed merrily, he was enjoying this.
"I didn't bring condoms," he muttered, dropping the playful smile.
Your eyes narrowed. "You're lying."
"It's true," he put in simply. "Someone went through all of them the other night and I haven't bought more," he emphasized with a cheeky grin, he even shrugged slightly looking as if he enjoyed torturing you.
Which, he probably did.
You were a split second away to throw all away and beg him to fuck you raw. But the last thread of sanity you still preserved in your mind stopped you.
"I forgot to ask," he said suddenly. "Have you made your list?"
You stilled and looked away embarrassed. "Um, I've thought of some things."
"Like what? Maybe we could do something tonight," he replied.
In reality you haven't gotten around making a list of things you want to try in bed with him. Your mind only ends up wandering in sex fantasies of what you'd do and never actually write something down.
"I have some ideas, but I don't know yet," you mumbled sheepishly, darting a shifty glance up his eyes.
The pierced eyebrow arched up. "I'm listening."
A smile appeared on your lips. "You're taking this really seriously," you pointed.
"Of course," he frowned, pretending to be offended. "I want to help my neighbor with her book."
You rolled your eyes with a smile.
"Besides, it's not like I get to do this everyday," he paused. "Well, unless you let me," he muttered, tilting his head forward.
"What?" you asked in a gasp. "Like you don't have people throwing themselves at you at any chance they get."
"Only my pretty neighbors," he chuckled and you playfully slapped his shoulder.
"Seriously, Joshua. You don't get a lot of groupies or whatever?"
He scoffed loudly. "Groupies. What are you, a sixty year old lady in disguise?"
"You know what I mean," you mumbled, starting to feel deeply embarrassed.
"Not really, princess. It's not what you think. I can show you if you want. Tonight," he suggested in a low tone.
The features of his face had hardened, denoting that he was more serious now.
"Tonight?"
"Only if you want to, of course," he shrugged, and you could tell from his tone, the lack of warmth and playfulness that he seemed to be detached.
"I'd love to," you replied and his face relaxed. Was he expecting you to say no?
"Kay," his lips pressed in a smile. "I'll come later to pick you up. And after that we can get into your list, deal?"
"Deal," you smiled shyly, not wanting to express the full excitedness you felt.
You noticed that every time he smiled contently, two dimples appeared crowning his mouth. Joshua sighed and then he cupped your chin with his hand, surveying your face for a moment.
"How's your head, still hurting?" he asked, his other arm still pulling you close to his frame.
"A bit. I'm fine, Joshua. Don't worry," you gave him a small reassuring smile.
"Kay," he whispered and pressed his lips on your forehead just like he did before you fell asleep in his arms.
You felt his lips relax on your forehead but he didn't pull away, his other hand returned to its original place on your waist. You assumed that he was dozing off again, and your suspicions turned correct when his breathing gained more depth.
Then you let yourself be absorbed in his embrace and your hands moved from his shoulders to his hard chest over his t-shirt. You felt the soft thumping of his heart, the slow rhythm of his breathing.
Your eyes darted to his face. He was asleep.
The hem of his shirt hung loose over his collarbones, you felt his soft and warm skin under your fingertips, lost in thought of him. Drinking the sweet scent of his skin and clothes.
Your fingers then wandered from his collarbones to his neck, his Adam's apple bobbed as the pads of your fingers touched it carefully.
But then a larger hand seized yours, pulling your arm above your head as his body pushed your body flat on the bed with a groan. The other hand was seized as well, thus pinning your wrists above your head.
A yelp bubbled in your chest, but when you felt his hard body pressing yours against the bed your curious eyes glanced up to see his face.
But before you could say something, your mouth was clasped with his with a chaste kiss.
"You're handsy," he muttered gruffly on your lips.
The grip on your wrists tightened a bit when Joshua dipped his head on the crook of your neck where he pressed his lips on your skin, to then nibble at your skin with his teeth.
"I wanted to wait 'til tonight but you're so needy. Such an impatient pretty girl," he grunted as his hand grabbed your wrists pressed down on the pillows, making you yelp and squirm.
Being somewhat restrained made you feel restless, but you made no attempt to break free, since you were quickly subdued by the feeling of his breath on the crook of your neck.
"'m sorry," you mumbled just as he started placing wet kisses on your collarbone, making his way to your tits.
"Are you, baby?" he asked, and your eyes fell on his. His pierced eyebrow cocked slightly. "I don't think you're sorry at all."
He let go of your wrists just so he could cup your breasts with his hands and before you could muster a response, he wrapped his mouth on one of your nipples, making you cry out instead.
The feeling of having his hot mouth around your nipple made you shiver, the whole area covered by his tongue and drool felt tingling and ablaze.
Hearing the non-verbal response you made, he moved his mouth to do the same with your other hardened nipple, licking and nibbling at it softly with his teeth. He hummed while doing so, as if he liked the taste of your skin on his mouth.
Your hands quickly grabbed at whatever was nearest, fingers landing on his head as you squirmed and moaned helplessly on your bedsheets. 
He pressed his lips down your sternum and he lowered himself to your belly, his hands parting your legs so he could place his body between them and continue kissing and licking your skin.
"Please-" you whispered as you writhe in pleasure under the touch of his lips.
"Please, what?" he asked as he raised his head to look at you. "What do you want, princess?"
"Do whatever you want, just-" you gulped suddenly. "I need you, Joshua. I've waited all week."
His eyes searched yours, just like he did last night when you were drunk.
"Please," you whispered and that apparently did it for him.
He lowered himself pressing wet kisses on your lower abdomen as his mouth reached between your legs, his eyes darted a look toward yours before his fingers parted your pussy lips carefully, earning a high keen moan from you.
"Fuck. You're dripping," he muttered gruffly as his finger swiped a line on your cunt, making you flinch and moan pathetically. "Practically wetting the bed."
Then his tongue dipped between your parted lips, slowly licking a stripe on your wet folds. You let out a loud moan, grabbing a handful of black hair, making him hum softly when you tugged at it.
Joshua wasn't looking for you to say something, because he quickly continued making out with your clit. You were practically crying out of pleasure when you felt his mouth working on the swollen bud, tugging at it with his lips every time he closed his mouth around it.
You felt your legs shake a bit under the building tension but you didn't budge. A faint voice inside you reminded you to relax, to focus on his mouth kissing your cunt, his tongue swirling around your clit and trailing down to drink you in with a moan.
His hands slid underneath your body and cupped your ass, pushing you up to his face, essentially burying his face between your legs. Joshua's mouth flatly pressed on your cunt as if he were thirsty, ravaging you and humming as he did it.
Then his tongue pressed on your clit, his lips encircling it whole as his cheeks hollowed out, sucking on the throbbing bud. You arched your back, crying out loudly at the feeling of being so close to your release.
"I'm close, so close, Joshua," you whimpered, eliciting a groan from him.
You looked down where his head was nuzzled between your legs and the sight was so fucking good that something in your brain shifted. His dark eyes found yours, and you completely came undone.
The tension in your body snapped, sending waves of pleasure, making your limbs grow numb. You called out his name weakly, your eyes screwing shut at the mercy of the waves seizing your body, making you twitch and gasp in short breaths.
Joshua was moaning just from making you cum. And that could probably send you to the edge again if it wasn't for the new feeling of one of his fingers inside you.
You blinked, feeling dazed and you found Joshua on his knees, his finger plunging in and out of your sopping walls, massaging them gently.
"You liked that, baby?" he asked at the same time he slipped another finger in.
"Yeah," you whimpered. "I've been wanting this for days."
His pierced eyebrow arched up.  "This would have happened sooner if you knocked on my door," he smiled fondly. "But I like that about you—too shy to go knock on my door, but not to ask me to fuck you senseless."
You whined at the same moment his fingers crooked inside you, exploring, looking for your g-spot with the tips of his fingers.
"You like it when I talk to you, right? Your pussy squeezes my fingers whenever I do," he mentioned with a grin.
As if to prove his point, your walls fluttered around his fingers and he chuckled.
"Oh, princess. You're perfect," he muttered gruffly, leaning his body to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.
"God, Joshua," you whimpered, the tension between your legs building up again.
"You wanna cum again, baby?" he asked, grazing your lower lip with his teeth before kissing you chastely.
"Yes. So bad," you groaned, wiggling your hips to get more from his fingers.
"Can you cum on my fingers? Or do you want my mouth too?" he asked, his fingers teasing your cunt, making you feel the drag of his knuckles inside you as he pulled his fingers out and in, making squelching sounds every time he moved his hand inside you.
"Yes, please! I want your mouth too," you whimpered desperately.
His smile was the last thing you saw before he lowered himself between your legs and immediately attached his mouth to your clit. Joshua continued fucking you with his fingers, crooking them to find your g-spot.
"Joshua!" you cried out, your body twitching uncontrollably in your bed. "I'm gonna come, I'm ah-"
Now with his mouth and fingers, the pleasure in your pussy was so much more intense, practically tearing your orgasm out of you as you cried out.
Ragged breaths came out from your mouth, blinking tears weakly as your orgasm sizzled under your skin. Joshua's fingers stopped when he felt your walls relax and slipped out of your sopping core, making you shudder at the emptiness.
Then you were being showered with kisses on your face. You laughed meekly as his lips pressed on yours.
"You're being spoiled, princess," he teased. "Was planning on waiting to make you come until tonight but you're so greedy."
"Mm'm sorry," you muttered weakly.
"Sorry for what?" he asked.
"Dunno," you giggled.
"Are you fucked out already, bunny?" he smiled sweetly at you. "But I haven't even given you my cock yet."
You whimpered and reached for his lips, kissing him sloppily. A moan coiled in your chest when you tasted yourself on his tongue and lips.
Joshua stopped and looked at you with a pleased smile on his face, and a finger caressed your flushed cheek fondly, only to dip his head to kiss you again.
"God. You're so pretty, so fucking hard to resist," he grunted in your lips.
You whined and your hands cupped his face to slot your lips in his. "Please don't," you whispered, your lips grazing with his. "I want more, Joshua. I want you."
His eyes lingered on yours and you could almost see when it clicked in his mind.
"You want me to fuck you raw," he asked with a low tone.
A shiver ran down your spine when you heard his words.
You nodded, biting your lip so Joshua wouldn't notice that you were practically salivating at the thought.
The corner of his lips twitched. "You already came twice."
"But I want you, Joshua. I want to feel you inside me," you whispered, still writhing from your high.
The glint in his darkened eyes made you think that he enjoyed this. Whatever this was: your sanity slipping away at the mercy of Joshua pleasuring you, doing everything you needed from him.
"I can't fuck you raw, bunny," he muttered, pressing his lips sweetly on yours as you whined in his mouth. "It's too dangerous."
You understood that you were clawing at a limit of his, so you backed down. "Okay," you whispered.
"Good girl," he said as his lips captured yours in a heated kiss.
He slumped his body next to you on your bedsheets, resting his head on his hand as the other started caressing your skin affectionately.
"Joshua?" you called. 
"Mm?" he hummed as he appeared to be deep in thought, tracing invisible circles around your belly button.
"Can I-" you sighed when the tip of his pointer finger traced back to one of your nipples.
"Yes?" he asked, smiling when your nipple hardened and then he did the same with your other nipple.
"Can I touch you?" you whispered.
"You don't have to ask," he muttered with a small smile.
The pleased smile that spread on your lips made him chuckle.
You eagerly grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and Joshua understood immediately, sitting up on the bed and took his t-shirt off in one swift motion.
You sat up on your bed sheets—thus realizing that Joshua wasn't exaggerating when he said you were wetting the bed. You ignored the wet stain on your sheets and hooked the waistband of his sweatpants on your fingers.
"Do you want me naked, sweetheart?" he asked, noticing your struggle to undress him.
"Yeah," you breathed, looking at him expectantly.
He climbed down the bed to pull down the sweatpants, he did it efficiently, without making it a show for you but he still looked really attractive while doing so; his strong thighs stepping out of his sweat pants to reveal his hardened length still inside his underwear.
Suddenly you had other plans. You followed him, standing in front of him as he tilted his head to the side. Your fingers tugged at the band of his black underwear, taking it off of him to reveal his fully hard cock.
Then you lowered yourself to your knees.
"I wanna suck you off," you explained shyly, feeling your core pulsate to the mere act of you being on your knees for him.
His fingers grazed your chin. "Have you done this before?" he asked with a low tone.
You shook your head silently, eyeing him and his cock in front of you. Your hands caressed his strong thighs, trailing up to his hips. You realized then that you didn't touch him like this the other night.
One of your hands grabbed his cock at the base, stroking the soft skin of the length to his wet reddened cockhead. It was large and thick, and it leaned to the side a bit. You rubbed your thumb on the slit, feeling his precum leak on the pad of your thumb.
You glanced up at his dark eyes as you took the wet thumb to your mouth, licking his precum.
His breath hitched noticeably.
"I'll tell you what to do," he nodded, then he cupped your cheek, a serious look on his face. "You can stop if you don't like any of it, m'kay?" he muttered.
You wet your lips and nodded. "Okay," you whispered.
"Open your mouth," he instructed gently. You parted your lips and took the bulbous head of his cock and hesitantly placed it in your tongue.
His cock was too big for you to take him deeper, but you experimentally, and almost instinctively, relaxed your tongue under the weight of his heavy cock, wrapping your mouth around the half of the length.
"Breathe through your nose and move your head forward," he muttered and you did so, pushing your mouth on the length of his cock.
"Then back. You don't have to take me all," he instructed, his hands pushing your hair back from your face, caressing your face with his thumbs in the process. 
Whatever he instructed, you carried out without a second thought.
"Good girl," he whispered. 
Hearing him like this only pushed you to focus, despite the throbbing ache between your legs demanding for equal attention.
You discovered then that you liked the act of you taking his cock in your mouth on your knees for him. The walls of your core fluttered and you knew you were getting wetter as you started bobbing your head back and forth just like he instructed.
"That's it, baby. Just glide your pretty mouth on my cock. Fuck, it feels so good, so fucking good," he groaned.
Slurping sounds came from your lips around his thick cock as you picked up your pace. You darted a look up.
When your eyes met, the corner of his mouth curved up. "You look so good with my cock stuffed in your pretty mouth like this," he muttered, his thumb caressing your cheek.
A whimper coiled in your throat that otherwise would have escaped your lips if his cock wasn't stuffed so deep in your mouth. His cockhead was almost gagging you, hitting the back of your mouth every time you tried to push him further.
Drool trailed from the corners of your mouth. You wiped a side with the back of your hand but Joshua quickly stopped you in the middle of it.
"Don't. I like the way it looks," he mumbled, taking your hand to grab at his thigh again.
That made you take mental notes of everything he liked, every reaction you earned you kept in the back of your head. You wanted to pleasure him as best as you could, you made it your goal to earn more pretty sounds and moans.
He shuddered. "Fuuuuck," he groaned faintly again, his voice raspy and guttural.
You glanced up back at him, an idea popping in your head—you liked it when he sucked on your clit, so maybe he would like it if you suck on him too. Your cheeks hollowed, sucking him as you pulled your head back and then pushing your head forward, taking on more of his cock in with each bob of your head.
His head was thrown back, so you couldn't see much of his face. But his throat bobbed when he swallowed and you hollowed out your cheeks for him to moan deliciously. 
"Fuck—shit," he hissed. "If you keep doing that I'll cum in your mouth," he groaned and his hands tightened on your scalp, attempting to pull out.
But you dug your fingers on his thigh, pulling him back as you did it again, bobbing your head faster and hollowing your cheeks harder.
"Is that what you want, baby?" he asked, a large hand cupping the side of your face, thumb tapping you gently to make you look up at him.
You saw the muscles of his jaw twitch when all you did as a response was blink at him twice, nodding your head ever so slightly without detaching your mouth from his throbbing cock.
"Taking my cum the first time you give head—fuck, you're so, so perfect," he sighed weakly.
His fingers clenched on your hair and you knew he was really close because he was breathing out heavily, broken groans. 
"I'll tell you when it happens. Remember to breathe through your nose," he reminded you gently.
You continued moving your head forward, so far that the tip of your nose almost felt his pubic hair, his cockhead bumping the back of your throat, making it hurt a bit. And then sucking on the length moving your head back, breathing in deeply.
Your eyes darted upwards, finding Joshua's face riddled in lust. He groaned, furrowing his brow a bit as his eyelids were fluttering shut and his mouth parted a bit.
"Cumming," he breathed. 
Then he started making the most raw sounds you've heard him utter yet. His moans sounded sweet and raspy, almost as if he were about to start whimpering; all music to your ears. The hand on your hair clenched, hard. Joshua shuddered and with a louder groan his cum was shooting in the back of your mouth.
You moaned with him and stopped moving your head to breathe through your nose, swallowing quickly as ropes of cum filled your throat. It was slightly salty, warm and it was so much of it.
A fiery rush ran down your spine. You enjoyed giving him head and having him cum in your mouth. You loved the reaction he had, the lewd sounds he made, because of you.  
He was breathing heavily—not the way he did when he fucked you into your bed the other night, that was out of exhaustion. This was different, he was heaving, looking like he was elated.
"That was amazing," he sighed heavily once again.
A shudder shook him hard when you sucked on his cock again before pulling it out from your mouth.
"Woah, don't do that," he giggled softly. "Tickles."
You smiled sweetly. "Was it good?"
He bent down to help you up, cupping your face in his large hands to pull you into a heated kiss, you moaned in his mouth as his tongue lapped on yours, probably tasting himself on your tongue.
"The best fucking head I've ever had," he muttered gruffly on your lips.
You laughed.
"I mean it," he nodded, pressing his forehead on yours.
Then Joshua bent down a little and lifted your body up, eliciting a small yelp from you. You quickly grabbed him by the shoulders, wrapping your legs around him.
He gently placed you on your bed and pressed his lips against yours.
"You did really well, baby," he muttered before capturing your lips with his, kissing you softly.
A strange feeling of fulfillment swelled in your chest.
Joshua leaned his head against your chest, seemingly still coming down from his high because when he lifted his head ever so slightly to meet your eyes, he smiled lazily at you.
You returned the smile. Your hand found the nape of his neck and started drawing invisible figures on his bare back. A sigh coming from his lips brushed your skin, making you shiver.
You could get used to this, you said to yourself.
"I have to go now," he muttered, pushing himself from your body. "But I'll come pick you up later, m'kay?"
"What should I wear?" you asked, suddenly feeling nervous at the prospect of going out with him.
"Whatever you want, bunny," he smiled. "You look good in anything... and with nothing at all, too."
A fluttering sensation invaded your chest. You laughed. "Ditto."
He laughed, bringing a hand up to push his dark hair back anxiously. Was he flustered?
He planted a kiss on your lips and stood up from your bed, dressing up quickly. Again, he didn't make a show of it, but you enjoyed watching him nonetheless.
When he noticed your lustful gaze practically eye-fucking him, he smiled. "Insatiable little thing," he muttered, bending down to give you one final chaste kiss. "I'll see you later, sweetheart."
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When Joshua came around to knock on your door, it was eight o'clock.
His black hair was parted naturally in the middle and it looked slightly wet. He wore a white faux leather jacket, white t-shirt and black denim jeans and black boots.
"I'm not ready yet," you told him as soon as he crossed your apartment door.
"I can see that," he smiled, looking at you up and down, noticing the silk robe you were wearing.
"Shut up," you quipped.
Rushing back to your room, you quickly got dressed in the outfit you had decided to wear for the occasion, inferring from the style that you usually saw Joshua dressed in for his gigs. 
Facing the mirror, you thought it was a cute outfit, but nothing prepared you for what Joshua's reaction would be.
As soon as you stepped in front of him, his mouth parted slightly, but was quickly replaced by a smile. He took a step to you, grabbing your hand to pull it up and you understood that he wanted you to twirl for him.
"You're gorgeous," he muttered before grabbing your face with one hand to pull you in a hot kiss.
"Thank you," you smiled sheepishly.
"I brought you something," he muttered in between kisses.
"Oh?" you uttered, being showered by his warm lips.
"But you have to open it when we get back. I just wanted to leave it here before we go," he handed a small black box.
It didn't look like a present, it wasn't wrapped or adorned with anything. You wanted to open it as soon as you took it. It was big enough to cover both of the palms of your hands, and it was somewhat heavy for its size, too.
"What is it?" you asked, looking up to his big eyes.
"It's for later," he replied, you noticed a glint in his eyes.
"Oh," you uttered again, smiling. "What's the reason?"
"Consider it one of the many I plan to give you," he smiled playfully.
You cocked an eyebrow. "Should I worry about what's inside?" you joked.
"It's something I know you'll like," he tilted his head to the side. "Or I hope it does."
Your finger slid on the edge of the black box. You got a faint idea of what was kept inside but decided to listen to Joshua and wait for later.
"Let's go, princess. The boys are waiting for us," he said, taking your hand with his.
"Who?" you asked, swiftly putting the gift on the coffee table and grabbing your purse as you headed out of your apartment.
"My bandmates. You'll like them," he assured you, turning to see you. "They've been eager to meet you."
"You told them about me?" you asked in a high pitch tone.
You got in the elevator together and Joshua pressed the button downstairs.
"I told them I'm bringing you with me and they went crazy about it," he sighed, unlocking his phone to show you a myriad of texts from a Jihoon and a Vernon.
You read the oncoming texts, raging for mostly reactions and exacerbated questions about Joshua finally dating someone. But he quickly shut down those speculations from his bandmates at once by saying you were a friend.
Something else on the screen caught your attention.
"You have seven hundred unread messages? And why do they say you're finally dating someone, what do they mean by finally?" you asked, bewilderedly returning his phone in his hand.
"You are a fast reader," he frowned. "I don't like texting," he shrugged.
"And?" you prompted.
His lips quirked into a smile. "Wouldn't you like to know," he joked, then shrugged again. "I've been single for a while."
"Really?" you asked with a smile, cocking an eyebrow.
"You're in no position to tease me about it," he smiled too.
You brushed him off. "Why are you single?"
"I uh..." he frowned and looked to the floor, as if looking for an answer there, "I haven't found the right person, I guess."
A sudden pang of concern jabbed you in the chest. But you made no comment, just nodded.
"And you?"
"Mmph. Same, I guess."
He looked at you. "Are you looking for something in particular?"
You sighed, contemplating your answer. "Nothing specific. Just… someone who feels right, you know? Someone who matches."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I get it. Has to be the right match, or it just doesn't work."
"But it's not like I'm actively looking," you added, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, me neither," he replied, trying to match your tone, but the awkwardness lingered.
Feeling the change, he cleared his throat.
The elevator doors opened and you walked outside of the building toward a large van. Where two men were waiting for Joshua, as soon as they saw you walking at his side, they exchanged a not so discreet look.
Joshua scoffed. "These two," he muttered with a grin.
Joshua opened the front door for you and you got into the passenger seat, noticing on your way that the back of the van was packed with a full drum set and two large guitar cases, a mic stand and sound amplifiers.
"This is Vernon and Jihoon," Joshua introduced you to the two grinning men who looked at you expectantly.
You told them your name with a shy smile.
"Behave," Joshua sneered as he sat in the driver's seat next to you, eyeing at the two guys sitting on the seats behind.
"We haven't said anything!" Jihoon protested with a smug grin.
You wanted to laugh at the way that Jihoon and Vernon exchanged looks once again.
"So... where did you two guys meet?" Jihoon asked either you or Joshua.
You felt like the question was directed towards you. "We're neighbors," you put in flatly. But sensing that you were being shy, added: "I complained at him for being noisy."
"Complained?" he interjected. "More like berated me," he teased as he started the car.
"I did not berate you," you bit back with a smile.
He rolled his eyes. "Put your seatbelt on."
"You first," you mumbled, but you did as he told nonetheless.
Jihoon scoffed loudly, trying not to burst out laughing.
"That's cute," Vernon commented flatly.
"What is?" you asked, turning to see the man sitting directly behind you.
He shrugged.
"It's cute that you're acting like an old married couple," Jihoon translated for his fellow bandmate with a smile.
You laughed. "Joshua is just a tease."
You felt him shift and noticed that he gave you a look.
"Oh, Shua's a nightmare," Jihoon retorted.
"Shua?" you repeated, looking at Joshua and then at Jihoon.
"He has many nicknames, you know. Joshuji, Joshu, Joshie, but the girls prefer Shua," he teased.
"Girls?" you parroted.
"Joshua's fans," Vernon informed, looking at his phone aloofly.
"Instagram fans," Jihoon complemented.
"Mmmph," you hummed.
"He's garnered quite the following," Jihoon teased, enjoying how Joshua was practically seething at him through the rear mirror.
"I imagine. But he told me he doesn't," you quipped.
"What?! He doesn't shut up about it with us," he looked over at Vernon, who just nodded with his head.   
"I can find more drummers, you know," Joshua bit back, looking at Jihoon through the rear view mirror.
"Please," the drummer scoffed.
"So you guys have been in a band for long?" you asked, feeling a certain eagerness to know more about Joshua's life.
"Two years?" Jihoon inferred, looking at Vernon, who just nodded in silence.
"I haven't listened to your music yet," you realized out loud. "I'm excited."
Joshua smiled without tearing his eyes from the road.
You arrived at a place called The Spot. Which was a bar located a few minutes from your apartment building.
Joshua parked the large van in the small parking lot behind the bar for the boys to unload the equipment they brought.
"Come. I'll show you inside," he said, grabbing your hand to lead you inside the dark-neon lit interior.
The bar was a western rock bar with an 80s theme. It had old movie posters and red neon signs on the walls. A U-shaped bar top in the center of the space, a large red neon sign that spelled 'Heartbreaker' mounted on the wall. Next to the booths and tables was a small stage where Jihoon and Vernon were already the drum set mounted.
The bar was not that big, but it was already starting to pack with people.
You sat in the last stool at the bartop, the spot was facing the side of the stage.
Keeping your eyes trained on him. He was scanning his surroundings anxiously, as if he was looking for something but nothing in particular at the same time.
"You can order whatever you want. It's on me," he smiled, and nodded at the two guys behind the bartop.
He fixed his jacket and licked his lips, then noticed your gaze on him.
"Are you nervous?" you asked suddenly.
That drew his big eyes to yours. "Nervous?"
"Yeah, you're fidgety," you pointed.
"I'm not," he said sternly, eyeing you with a glint of annoyance.
You narrowed your eyes. "You are," you insisted. "Why? Is it because I'm here?"
You laughed when all Joshua did was roll his eyes.
"I'll deal with you later," he brushed off before turning away and helping the guys get everything installed.
A pretty girl came forward almost a second later with a notepad and wearing a big smile. "Can I get you anything?" she asked.
You thought about it for a second. "Can I get a virgin piña colada?" you asked, feeling like a kid again.
The girl smiled. "Of course, right away."
Seconds later, the tall man behind the counter handed you your virgin cocktail. It had a cherry on the rim and a small pineapple slice.
"Thanks."
The tall nodded. "Are you a friend of Joshua's?" he asked.
You nodded, looking at his name tag. Mingyu.
When Mingyu smiled, you saw that his pointed fangs adorned his smile in a cute manner.
"You are his friend too?" you asked.
"He's more my boss's friend," he nodded in the direction of a tall guy that was talking with Joshua.
"Does he come here often?" you decided to pry.
"Just every other Thursday," he shrugged.
"D'you have live shows every Thursday then?"
"Yep. We try at least," he said as he poured beer on a crystal jug and put it on the bartop. "We are planning on having stand up nights, but Wonwoo says it's not a good idea," he said, pointing at his partner.
Wonwoo looked up, his ears perking at the sound of his name. "What?" he asked, pushing the rim of his frames up his sharp nose.
"Nothing," Mingyu brushed off.
"Have you thought about having Ladies’ Night?" you inquired, seeing the groups of women fill in the booths around the stage. 
"Huh. Sure, why not," he said in a thoughtful tone. And he turned to his partner. "Hey, what do you think of Ladies’ Night instead of stand up nights?"
Wonwoo shrugged, eyeing you curiously. "Either sounds like more work for me," he smiled shyly at the taller man. "Don't tell Cheol I said that."
The groups of girls coming to the bar, you thought, were due to the fact that the bar was partly cheap and well-decorated. It seemed like a fun place for a mini photo session while getting a few drinks; as you noticed from the people posing in front of the red neon signs.
A second thought was that a large part of the mostly female clientele was because the three guys who ran the bar were good looking.
Mingyu was the sweet, friendly looking guy, tall and buff; he was hot and well aware of it. Wonwoo was the alluring, quiet looking guy, dressed in all black, but whenever he smiled, his nose would wrinkle, telling on his sweet side. And the guy who was talking with Joshua also looked really attractive: tall, with the poise of a commander. Pale blond hair and full lips.
Joshua noticed you looking his way and smiled at you, making your insides jolt in response.
It was almost funny. He'd throw just a glance at you and have your body reacting like crazy.
But you guessed that it was unavoidable.
The eyes on him weren't just yours, but half of the people sitting around the small stage looked at Joshua expectantly as he nodded to his blond friend once and took the strap of his electric guitar to put it around his shoulders.
He did a brief sound check, which consisted of strumming the chords a few times aimlessly. That dragged dozens of eyes to the stage.
The microphone was tapped twice by his finger, as the speakers that played regular music died down, the microphone catching the sound around it and you could hear Joshua clearing his throat briefly.
You noticed the energy change around you, the buzz of the crowd growing quiet and then hushed almost completely when Joshua took the microphone, a white pick trapped between his pointer and middle finger.
"Hi, we're Midnight Haze," Joshua said, "and we're going to be your entertainment for tonight. Enjoy," his lips rose into a smile.
Then he turned to the drummer and nodded. Jihoon moved to get into position on the stool he occupied, lifting the drumsticks in his hands. He tapped them together twice, and with a thunderous splash, the music began reverberating throughout the place.
Then the guitar chords pierced the air and their vibrations could be felt on the barstool you were sitting at. With his eyes fixed on his guitar, Joshua raised his head to place his mouth in alignment with the microphone on the stand.
Under the red glowing light, his face lit up almost ominously as he began to sing. The sweet voice reverberated in your chest due to your closeness to the speakers, but beneath that, you felt a surge of emotion invade your senses as his voice rose with passion, weaving the melodies.
Midnight Haze sounded heavy enough like when a tidal wave crashes, but light and fun enough to dance along. Guitar solos spiral into your ears, Joshua appeared to be enjoying himself while swaying with his guitar, igniting a blaze of raw energy.
You realized that you were not the only one who was awestruck. Definitely not groupies. But there were some girls ogling at him, which, you realized, was difficult to resist.
At least from what you could catch, they had their eyes glued to the lead singer, who was putting on quite a show: dancing with his guitar, swaying his head to the music and smiling at his bandmates in some unspoken exchange.
They played for an hour non-stop, ending with an upbeat song and then he thanked the crowd and said goodbye for himself and the rest of the band. As they stepped down from the stage, the audience applauded and so did you, but you couldn't help but feel that you were left wanting more.
After some minutes, the buzz of the crowd resumed as well as the music from the bar speakers. Joshua made his way to you, sweat on his forehead and his looking a mixture of exhilarated and tired. But he was grinning ear to ear.
"See? No one is throwing themselves at me," he told you. 
"Point taken, rockstar," you rolled your eyes. 
He smiled widely, making your heart lurch. "Did you like the show?"
"Yeah. It was way too short, though. I kinda want more," you smiled up at him, still feeling dazed and a bit deafened.
"Sometimes we play on bigger venues and for longer," he commented, nodding to the small stage that was being cleared up from the band's equipment.
"I'll definitely want to see that," you stated.
His big dark eyes found yours, the corner of his mouth lifted. "I'll help the boys and I'll come back for you," he said and booped the tip of your nose before turning to the stage and helping with the dismounting of the equipment.
You quietly observed him as he busied himself to help clean up the stage. He's so cool, you internally said abashedly. He laughed and joked around with Vernon and Jihoon, drawing the attention of the people around them.
He looked at you from across the room and sneaked a wink. Did he know you'd be staring at him? He waved goodbye to his friends and turned to you.
"Ready, princess?" he asked, looking curiously at your already finished drink. "You had piña coladas?"
"Virgin piña coladas," you emphasized, nodding.
"That reminds me of something," he noted, and went to pay the bill to then return to you. "Come on."
Joshua took your hand as he led you back to the parking lot and opened the door of the van for you.
"We have to talk about some rules," he pointed as he drove back home.
"Rules?" you looked at him. Fuck, he's hot even when he's driving.
He had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was relaxed on the windowsill.
"Last night I told you I wouldn't do anything to you while you're drunk, remember?"
"I'm not drunk now," you interjected.
"But you told me you didn't care, right?"
"And I don't. You can do whatever you want with me," you blurted, feeling your cheeks grow hotter.
"I need to know when something is completely out of the question, princess," he told you softly, eyeing you again.
"Like what?" you asked.
"Can I fuck you while you sleep?" he asked, by the tone he used, you could tell he was just giving you an example.
You smirked. "Sounds like you wouldn't do that," you retorted.
"I'm not into that," he admitted.
"That's why you couldn't last night?" you decided to pry.
"You weren't sober. Under different circumstances, I might've considered it. But last night just didn't feel right," he explained, seemingly deep in thought.
"Noted," you smiled at the careful consideration he had over you.
"I think we need to establish a safeword," he said after some seconds.
You saw him toy with his lower lip as the other hand still gripped the steering wheel.
"And I use this safe word whenever I don't like something, right?"
There was a bit you knew about the use of safewords—you were a bit inexperienced, yes. But not completely out of the loop.
"If you want me to stop, you say it and I will," he nodded, as he parked the van in the parking lot. Swiftly unbuckling his seatbelt, he hopped out of the van and then hurried over to your door.
You were both on the elevator when you told him your safeword after some careful consideration.
"Got it," he nodded again, licking his lower lip in a thoughtful expression. "Any reason why that's your safeword?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," you quipped, a playful smile spreading on your lips.
He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You've been really bratty today, princess," he pointed.
"Oh, please," you pushed his shoulder playfully. "It's just a bit of teasing, can't you handle it, Shua? What are you going to do?"
The doors opened with a soft ding.
"Alright," he scoffed, and with a sudden movement, he bent down to throw you over his shoulder as if it was nothing.
"Joshua! Put me down!" you squealed.
You heard him laugh as he walked with you secured over his shoulder and stopped in what you guessed was your apartment.
He entered the combination to your smart-lock and pushed the door open.
"Now princess, where did you put the box I gave you?" he asked as soon as the door closed behind him.
"Coffee table," you mumbled, starting to feel dizzy.
Joshua didn't put you down as he took the box from the coffee table by crouching down slightly to reach it. Your limbs and head dangled helplessly, blood rushed to your head but as he moved to your bedroom, he set your backside on the bed, setting you down finally.
"Open it," he encouraged, and started to take off his jacket.
"I think I know what I'm gonna find here," you muttered, recovering with a sigh.
"Oh, do you?" he looked up at you while you took the lid of the box off.
The box contained two things, one of which confirmed that your suspicions were right—rope. Tightly coiled and bundled, it was black and new, by the smell of it. It was also soft, when you gently reached out a finger to touch it.
Next to the rope, a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs.
"I got two options for you to choose for tonight," Joshua explained and you found his big eyes scrutinizing you.
Instinctively, you grabbed the rope, since it seemed more alluring to you at that moment.
Joshua smiled knowingly, taking the rope from your hands. "Alright, princess. Rope it is," he nodded.
"But I liked the handcuffs too," you blurted.
"Patience, bunny. We'll have plenty more nights," he stated, making your insides jolt with eagerness.
"M'kay," you mumbled, looking at him anxiously.
In reality, you didn't have 'plenty more nights' as he said, since your deal with him was to be fuck buddies until you finished your manuscript. Which you have been dreading to finish.
He noticed your restive eyes on him and dipped his head to slot his lips in yours, giving you a reassuring kiss.  
"Take off your clothes for me, sweetheart," he instructed gently before pressing his lips with yours.
Your breath hitched so embarrassingly you had to bite down your lower lip. You liked the way he told you what to do, you liked that he took control. So you did what he told you to do.
As your clothes came off, Joshua busied himself preparing the rope for you. But his eyes remained fixed on you as you made a show to take off your clothes for him.
He sat at the foot of the bed—watching you with a sweet smile that didn't fully show his teeth. Your heart fluttered uneasily when his gaze darkened slowly when you got to your see through the mesh red lingerie he asked you to wear.
You unclasped your bra and sheepishly moved it from your chest, throwing it to the floor to then tug at the hem of your thong. 
"Leave that on," he stopped you before you could get to the last piece of your undergarments. 
The rope came undone on his hands, it was longer than you expected. Watching his hand twist the rope in an organized fashion, using his elbow as an anchor while his other hand grasped the other end of the knot.
"You've done this before," you pointed.
"Or," he countered with a grin, "I just know how to tie rope."
You squinted, catching the obvious white lie. "How many times have you done this?" you pressed.
"I don't think you really want to hear the answer to that, princess," he quipped.
Fair.
"Mmph," you hummed.
He sighed and looked at you, almost fully naked under the dim lights of your bedroom. "Yes, sweetheart. I've done this before. Don't worry," he nodded to the bed.
You understood and climbed your bed, moving your body to the middle and lying down on your pillows. Joshua followed you on his knees before you.
He extended the rope out for you, organized in two holes for you to fit your hands inside. You anxiously stuck your hands on each hole, at the same time Joshua slid the knot, tucking it closer to your wrists.
"Is it too tight?" he asked, and you could tell he was excited already.
You shook your head, your eyes trained on Joshua as he bent to finish tying the rope on the rails of the headboard of your princess bed—thus pinning your arms above your head.
"Remember our safeword," he said softly before placing a tender kiss on your lips.
You repeated your safeword, and then you started to feel your body heat in anticipation.
"That's my good girl," he sighed, pressing his lips on yours. "You're good only when you're about to get fucked, right?"
You attempted to give him an answer but his tongue dragged on your lower lip, finding your tongue as he kissed you slowly, enjoying the taste of your lips with a soft hum.
"I'm always good," you replied meekly.
"Oh, sweetheart. If only that were true. You wouldn't be tied right now," he smirked and pulled away from your body.
Joshua jumped from the bed, and started getting rid of his clothes, except his underwear. He smiled when he noticed you looking at him and turned to open the first drawer where he knew now you kept your toys.
Your blood rushed to your cheeks, and involuntarily you moved your hands to no avail—your arms were completely restrained.
"Do you keep them charged, princess?" he asked while he rummaged through your clothes to find your toys on the bottom of the drawer, stored neatly inside a shoe box.
"Yeah," you breathed nervously.
"How often do you use them?" he asked.
"Um... last time I used them was... wh-when I had that dream about you," you stuttered.
"Did you cum, baby?" he asked, looking over to your body as he made his way back to you .
You nodded. "And while I was sleeping," you muttered sheepishly.
He cocked his pierced eyebrow. "Is that even possible?" he asked, climbing back to the bed with two of your toys.
"It was for me," you breathed.
"So you came... twice? From a little wet dream of me eating you out?" he asked, his eyes marveling at the sight of you tied to your bed.
You nodded.
He smiled, letting out a sigh. "My perfect little bunny. Who would've thought you'd be this needy," he leaned in, cupping the side of your face to press his lips on the tip of your nose, then to your lips.
The urge of touching his face too invaded you, your arms twitched, the tight knot of rope stopping you before you could even move any further.
It was almost funny—being aware of the impossibility of touching him but still aching to do so aroused you.
"Joshua... please," you gulped hard.
His laugh came as a surprise to you. "Begging already, princess?"
"I need you," you whimpered, looking at him through your eyelashes.
"But you are in no position to make demands, baby," he muttered and planted a chaste kiss on your lips which you returned eagerly, trying to sneak the tip of your tongue between his lips but he pulled back slightly with a smirk.
"But you said-"
"I know what I said," he interjected. "That was before you acted all bratty today, wasn't it, sweetheart?"
You let out a small whine and bit your lower lip.
"So maybe I won't fuck you tonight, how about that?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, his black bangs obscuring one eye.
"You wouldn't do that," you whined, writhing on your bed, the restraints stopping you before you could do anything at all.
"Careful there, princess. These might be soft but I bet you bruise easily, don't you?" he asked, tugging at the knot pinning your wrists.
"Joshua!" you squeaked.
"Yes?" he met your eyes, giving you an innocent look.
It was insane how controlled he looked, the way he looked at you as if you were his prey and he were just toying with you.
You fumbled for the words, but as his eyes bored into yours, you felt at a loss.
"Joshua, please," you whispered when his lips found your sweet spot between your ear and jawline, making you moan when his lips sucked softly.
"Keep begging all you want, baby," he muttered, and you just knew he was smiling.
His hands trailed down your body, roaming, caressing your breasts and playing with your nipples using his thumbs. You moaned helplessly and grinded your hips against the growing bulge of his dark underwear.
"Desperate little thing," he groaned, lowering his body to attach his mouth to one of your nipples, making you cry out loudly and try to reach for his black hair.
Since your head was propped up in your pillows, you had a fairly good view of him biting and sucking at your nipples, it wasn't hard, but just enough to make you squirm and whimper under him.
"You have the prettiest tits, baby," he muttered as he nibbled softly at one of your nipples. "Can I mark them?"
You nodded as his gaze found yours. "Yeah, p-please do," you urged.
The corner of his lips lifted before pressing his lips on the underside of your tits and sucked softly. You moaned softly, wanting to run your hand through his hair, but not being able to make you feel more uneasy.
"Oh, Joshua," you whimpered as he made a trail of angry red spots on your tits. It was a strange feeling, having his hot mouth sucking on the skin around your areolas.
"I like these," he muttered, toying with the hem of your thong. "I love that you remembered to wear them."
"How could I not?" you quipped, feeling a bit breathless at the sight of him slotting his head between your thighs, kissing your pulsing clit through the meshy fabric of your thong.
"You could be a sweet talker when you want to," he smiled before pressing his tongue flatly on your core, making you cry out.
He sucked gently at your clit for a moment and then pulled his tongue away, hooking his fingers on your thong to slide them down your legs.
You saw him purse his lips directly above your pussy, and spit fell from his mouth, coating your clit. The sight of it alone made you utter a ridiculous sound.
And just when you thought he was going to continue eating you out, he grabbed something he had hidden beside him on the bed, and you realized by the pinkish color on his hand what it was.
"D'you use this often, sweetheart?" he asked as he pressed on the button of your rose vibrator.
He gently parted your pussy lips with his fingers, making you whimper when he placed the sucking tip of the vibrator directly on your clit.
"I... sometimes," you answered as the toy sucked your clit in its mechanical, trained patterns.
"And what about this one, baby?" he asked softly, grabbing with his free hand a wavy glass dildo.
You groaned, feeling both aroused and embarrassed. If you had your hands free, you'd use them to cover your face.
"What's wrong, baby?" he giggled, seeing your reaction. "I saw your collection of toys. I have a rough idea of what you like, but I want you to tell me."
You rolled your eyes, deeply flustered.
"That's my favorite," you pointed with your nose to the clear dildo, adorned with a pink heart at the end. "But if I want to... do things quickly I use this," you pointed to the toy trying to swallow your clit.
"Oh, really?" he smirked and bent forward to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. "I love the idea of you fucking yourself with your toys, princess," he told you before he kissed one of your hot cheeks.
"You do?" you asked in a high pitch tone.
"Yeah," he breathed, and you just loved the way he said it. "My pretty needy bunny, bouncing on a fucking toy. Now, that's something I'd like to see."
You moaned in his lips. But he pulled away too soon, suddenly turning off the vibrator, making you groan at the loss of stimulation. Then he spit on the tip of the dildo, coating it completely with his drool.
Joshua had a grin on his face when you whined loudly at the sudden intrusion of the glass dildo, the bulbous tip pushing your walls open.
"I see why you like this," he muttered as he pushed further into the second wave. "It looks insane, baby. Your pretty pussy is swallowing it in," he whispered.
The dildo was only halfway in, but apparently that's what Joshua wanted because he started rocking it back and forth in your walls, at the same time he clicked the vibrator on again and attached it to your swollen clit, sucking and sending waves through your body.
You moaned and gasped. You had never had both toys on your cunt before, for obvious reasons.
But the vibrator was relentless and the combination of both was making you writhe and cry of pleasure, feeling really close to your release.
"Joshua!" you cried, writhing in your bed so desperately that the headboard of your bed rattled a bit. "Please, please, don't stop." 
"Are you going to come, princess?" he asked and you nodded your head frantically.
He pulled the toys away from your throbbing cunt in a second. You blinked and furrowed your brow at him. 
His lips were clashing on yours before you could utter a word. He moaned softly as he swiped your lower lip with his tongue.
"Remember how bratty you were today, bunny," he muttered gruffly. "I want you to think of it when I allow you to come."
"Joshua, please, just-" you moaned pathetically, trying to push your hips to the dildo still held directly in front of your sopping core.
"What, baby? What do you want?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.
"I want-" you gasped and gulped.
"Do you want me to keep fucking you with your toys? Or do you want my cock?"
The rope around your wrists tightened when you desperately tried to move your arms. "I want you, please Joshua" you whined.
He hummed, seeming to consider it. "Such a greedy girl," he muttered while he kissed you slowly with his wet lips. "Only behaves when she wants my cock."
The vibrator clicked on again under his thumb, attaching it to your clit again and thrusting the glass dildo on your fluttering walls. You contorted in your bed, trying to get the best out of the pleasure from the toys to sate your sopping core, biting down the inside of your cheek to stop the whimpers and sobs.
"I want to hear you," he said and you cried out instantly, feeling so close again to your release.
You screwed your eyes shut, propping your feet on the mattress to try and thrust your hips further on the dildo, trying to fuck yourself faster on it.
You arched your back just as you were about to have your much desired orgasm. But then Joshua set  the vibrator aside and from your clit.
"Please, please, please," you moaned over and over again. "Shua, please, I need you. Please, fuck me."
Then he pulled away from your body, with one swift movement he got rid of his underwear and slotted his body between your legs. He was sliding down a condom and before you could see what was happening properly, he was pushing his cock in your core with a loud groan.
You cried out in both pleasure and pain as he immediately started thrusting his big cock inside you, pushing your walls open for him.
"Fuck, baby. How are you still this fucking tight?" he groaned, his hands grabbing your hips as he pushed himself until he bottomed out and you could feel his full length inside you.
"Shua," you cried weakly.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked, pushing into your walls slowly.
"'m fine," you whimpered, closing your eyes to savor the pleasure of finally having him inside you as best as you could. "I just- I love having you inside me."
He giggled sweetly. "You do?"
You nodded with your head. "I love it s-much," you mumbled. "It feels so good."
"You feel great too," he said in a strangled voice.
Then Joshua started thrusting faster and harder, making your body bounce on his cock and the headboard slam repeatedly on the wall. You closed your eyes and swallowed hard as Joshua quite practically fucked you into your bed loudly.
You moaned deliriously when you felt the vibrator attached to your clit again, crying out when it started sending pulsations relentlessly, just as Joshua's hips buckled slightly, and his thrusts became more precise and calculated, holding your hips down with one hand.
"F-fuck," you whimpered, your eyes welling up with tears as you could feel yourself weaken under so much pleasure. 
"Too much, baby?" he asked and you picked up on the hint of concern in his voice.
"'m fine, Shua," you replied in a hoarse voice, blinking your tears helplessly. "I'm-m fuck-"
"You're squirting, baby," he told you in a low tone of awe, his eyes trained on your cunt as he plunged his cock inside you, his hand still pressing the vibrator on your clit.
"But I'm not coming," you protested, lifting your head to see but his hand blocked your view.
"I know, sweetheart," he smirked. "Tell me when you're close."
A frustrated groan fell from your lips and threw your head back against the pillows, avoiding answering.
Joshua let out an amused sigh at your small tantrum and you looked at him—he looked mesmerized. His lascivious eyes trained on you, his lower lip trapped behind his teeth, his black bangs stuck against a light layer of sweat that covered his forehead. 
He was on his knees, sitting back on his heels, the muscles of his abdomen tightening with every thrust, your legs draped on his thighs, a hand grabbing your hips, holding you in place while the other kept the toy pressed on your swollen clit.
The sight alone made your walls flutter and clench around him. You wanted to grab him, to feel his skin. The rails to which you were tied to made a rattling noise when you tried to move your arms.
The pressure building inside you from the toy pressing your clit and his cock pushing inside you—you moaned and squirmed on your bed.
"Shua, 'm close, fuckfuckfuck 'm so close," you whimpered, blinking some tears helplessly.
"What did I tell you, princess?" he pushed his cock inside you in a more demanding way, as if trying to rip your orgasm from you.
"I'll be good, Shua, I'm sorry-," you breathed desperately. "Jus' le-let me cum, please?"
"You learn fast," he praised with a lazy smirk. "You can cum, baby," he nodded, his face riddled with lust.
A second later you were writhing, crying out his name, the rope tightening around your wrists as you came hard, back arching and walls spasming erratically around his cock.
"Joshua," you breathed as he rode your high with precise and calculated thrusts.
A faint thought appeared in your mind—you probably looked like a mess, tied to the rails of your bed, hickeys all over your tits, crying and babbling nonsense.
"Fuck, I can't—Shua," you moan an writhed, feeling your core ache and spasm helplessly under the overwhelming stimulation.
"Are you safewording, bunny?" he asked, again, there was that tone of concern.
You shook your head weakly on your pillows. "No—don't stop, I want you, oh Joshua—fuck, fuck!"
You tried to press your ass down on the bed, trying to create some distance from the painful sensation in your oversensitive clit. Joshua appeared to be reading on how your body reacted, and changed the mode of the vibrator to a more delicate one. 
You screwed your eyes shut, feeling like you could sink into a void from all the pleasure your body was feeling, it was almost breaking you. 
You heard a soft sigh. "My pretty bunny. Do you like being fucked silly?" he was smiling from the tone of his voice.
"Love it—love having your cock inside me s'much," you replied almost instantly in a slurry babble.
That made him laugh. "Can you give me another one then, sweetheart? Cum for me again."
You nodded, savoring your fourth orgasm of the day. Your fingers clenched the rope as a form of soothing your body from the waves of pleasure threatening to wash over you. 
"Shua," you whimpered.
"I know, baby," he groaned, blinking slowly as he threw his head back ever so slightly. "I know."
Something snapped inside you, making you close your eyes so tightly you saw colors and then a slew of cries and hoarse moans came out of your mouth until you were breathless and crying from the overwhelming pleasure, the tears running down your temples.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned, and you knew from his face that he was cumming with you. His slightly parted mouth, eyelids fluttering, fingers digging at your hips.
The slamming noises from the headboard against the wall of your bedroom ceased, as Joshua threw the vibrator across the bed, his thrusts lazily coming to a stop with a last strangled moan.
You saw him bend his body forward to untie you in a swift tug of his fingers.
Then his hands were cupping your face, his lips slotting in yours, kissing you fervently.
"You're so good for me, bunny," he muttered in between kisses. "So, so good for me."
Your arms languidly wrapped around his neck as you returned his heated kiss. You moaned at the feeling of having his hot mouth on yours, savoring him.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked after you didn't respond.
"Uh-huh," you replied weakly.
He pressed his chapped lips in a smile that made your heart jolt. Looking at you with a glint of endearment as his fingers gathered some tears that were gathered in the corners of your eyes.
"You sure?" he whispered, his eyebrows knitting together.
You nodded. "'m sure."
"D'you want me to stay?" he asked hesitantly.
"Please?"
He blinked slowly at you, a cute smile stretching his lips. "Of course," he nodded. "Let me take care of you then."
He planted a soft kiss on your forehead and left the bed against your small groan in protest. When he returned a moment later, he had discarded the condom and you could hear the faint noise from the shower running in the bathroom.
"Don't move. I'll carry you," he said as he slid his arms beneath your body, bringing you up to his chest effortlessly.
"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling yourself come back to your senses.
"Don't thank me, baby," he mumbled, glancing at your face with a cautious look.
He set you down on the floor and guided you to stand under the showerhead. The warm water worked its magic, reviving your muscles and senses back to life.
Joshua was looking at you with his curious eyes, as he usually did. But this time, he looked kind of worried.
"Was it too much?" he finally asked as he watched your body soak in the warm water. "You're really quiet."
A reassuring smile crept in your lips. "I'm fine, Joshua. You don't have to worry about me," you replied.
"But I do, let me worry," he said, taking one of your hands to examine your wrists, which were reddened.
Your heart jolted again. "I liked it, Shua. Otherwise I would've told you, right?" you mumbled sheepishly.
His big eyes met yours, and you could see his features relax. His hand released yours to find your nape and pull you into a tender kiss.
"Thank you for trusting me," he muttered, resting his forehead against yours.
It was deafening and alarming—your heart was strumming against your chest, fast; a flutter of nervousness in your tummy. Fuck, this can't be happening, you told yourself. But a part of you knew this was bound to happen.
You were falling in love. 
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✮ a/n: first of all: can we pretend that vernon knows how to play the electric bass for the sake of this chapter pls (˘・_・˘)
thank you to everyone who showed love to part i and for the ones who waited for part 2 ty ty ty! i made this chapter extra juicy for those who waited tehe
what do you guys think Midnight Haze sound like? i thought of something like nothing but thieves or sam fender [especially this cover song] but do let me know your opinions! [links re-direct to youtube vids]
you can send an ask, chat with me, or drop your comments don't be shy (◠‿◠)
✮ READ PART 3 !! ✮
click here to join my taglist (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
toodles
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amateurasterism · 2 years
Text
worst neighbor ever (or is he?) !
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synopsis ; you’re convinced yoon jeonghan is the worst neighbor you’ve ever had…until a couple drinks help you realize he isn’t.
pairing ; yoon jeonghan + fem!reader featuring yunjin from lesserafim
notes ; non idol au, frenemies to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff, harmless and cute arguing, sort of very suggestive towards the end, reader is in denial, reader gets really drunk, jeonghan makes like two sex jokes because he’s a little shit, small mentions of eating. idk if this is a weird concept but whatever. anyways this is my first svt fic lets goo (and first fic of 2023 yay happy new years guys)
word count ; 2.6k
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You have never seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face, yet you know him well enough to consider him the worst neighbor you’ve ever had.
Does seeing his face really matter to you, though? He’s the worst, and that’s all you need to know.
“You’re not listening to me, Yoon Jeonghan!”
 “I am.” Jeonghan finally responds after five minutes of you calling him from your balcony. You’ve spent much more time on this balcony than you expected, all thanks to the constant shouting you two do from your balconies.
 His voice is irritatingly calm, hinting that he’s been listening to you this entire time, but couldn’t care enough to reply as he was singing one of those stupid love songs again. Which you always considered weird, because he didn’t have a girlfriend to begin with.
 His voice is irritatingly calm, hinting that he’s been listening to you this entire time, but couldn’t care enough to reply as he was singing one of those stupid love songs again. Which you always considered weird, because he didn’t have a girlfriend to begin with.
“Could you just be quiet for just thirty fucking minutes? Although a full day would be great,” you add the last part under your breath.
 “I heard that.”
 “Good. I can’t stand you.”
 “You don’t mean that, if you did, you would’ve talked to the landlord and filed a complaint already,” Jeonghan replies, a tease in his voice, because when was there not? You hate that you know he was right too.
 You sigh and accept the defeat. “Would it kill you to sing a quiet song inside your apartment instead of outside on your balcony?” Yet another failed day of convincing him to shut up. You’ve learned to become less and less expectant of any outcome from arguing with Jeonghan. By now, the insults you share are filled with something a lot unlike hate.
 Sometimes you wonder why you even bother; you’re used to his noisiness at this point anyways. You’re failing at convincing yourself his stupid songs aren’t what help you fall asleep at night, both of you huddled on your balconies with the thickest blankets in battle of the chilly night air, Joshua’s fingers strumming his guitar lazily as you fight to keep your eyes open, your ears using Joshua’s voice to lull you to sleep. You hoped he didn’t know of your routine, for the sake of your dignity. Hopefully you were the only one aware of those nights were it felt like you, him, and the stars.
 You know all too well that Jeonghan has become a part of you. The reason why you haven’t failed at missing a day without talking to him between those balconies if that you would feel missing if you were derived of him. It was stupid to admit that, especially because… well, you had never seen his face before.
 Before you step back inside your apartment, you stop and yell, “At the very least, could you grab my mail and drop it off today? It’s a package and I have a party later.”
 Jeonghan hums curiously. “Dunno. What’s in it for me?”
 “Nothing. It’s the least you could do for being a pain in the ass everyday.”
 “Eh,” Jeonghan says dismissivley and resumes strumming his guitar.
 You don’t bother pleading anymore, entering your apartment and sliding the glass door behind you, because you know he would get your mail—in fact, he did it everytime you asked.
 —
 If there was one thing that everyone knew about you, it was that when you got drunk, you were drunk. It was not to say that you had a poor alcohol tolerance, in fact, your tolerance was quite high—but when you crossed that tolerance line with a specifically high amount of drinks, it was as if another brain took over.
 The music blasting from the surround sound speakers in the living room of your best friend’s house is only adding to your hazy mind as you try your best to make it through the crowd of bouncing people. Fuck, you mumble curses under your breath at the stench of sweaty bodies, spilled tequila, and other humanly liquids coming from couples doing some other kinds of dancing god knows where.
 “Hey, y/n!” your best friend, Yunjin, greets you near the kitchen island, but her comforting smile is quickly replaced by a concerned frown as she looks at you up and down. “Shit,” she sighs, immediately taking away the red cup in your hands and fixing your ruined outfit: your tangled hair and sheer top falling away from your slumped shoulders, and skirt that had moved a bit too much during dancing. She takes off your heels revealing sore feet with blisters just beginning to form and brings you outside to the porch.
 “Too much to drink, babes,” she chuckles. Truthfully, she’s a little happy you allowed yourself some freedom tonight. Since you moved, you’ve been holding back at parties due to your lack of a ride home.
 Yunjin holds out her hand for your phone, which you give, and dials your closest friends. Which is only a couple of people, since most of them were at this party, and none of them answer.
 She would drop you off by herself, but this was Yunjin’s house and your apartment was almost an hour away. And with the chaos ensuing inside, she didn’t want to leave the fate of her house in someone else’s hands. “Y/n, who can I call to pick you up?”
 “Mmm,” you hum absentmindedly and look at the sky, and the stars freckling it. The stars remind you of someone. Funny how you can grow on someone without seeing their face. Is it the alcohol in your system making you go insane, or did the alcohol finally bring down the fourth wall and make you realize? Suddenly all you can think about is the sound of his singing on the balcony, and his teasing voice every time you tried to shut him up. Those love songs you hated so much filling the frigid night air.
 Then, you realize, all the love songs he sang were about you.
 “Jeonghan… you idiot,” you mumble, the smallest of smiles pulling at your lip.
 “Jeonghan? Who the fuck is Jeong—” Yunjin remembers. “You’re right, I forgot. Your neighbor. Don’t you hate him though?”
 You don’t respond.
 “Doesn’t matter, because he’s your only choice.” Yunjin finds him buried in your contacts as a nameless number, but she knows it’s him from the fact he was the last person you texted.
 You’re sure the alcohol has completely taken over your brain when your legs and arms are moving to their own accord, and suddenly you’ve snatched your phone from Yunjin’s hands and have pressed it to your ear as it starts to ring. You could barely process the fact that you were smiling when Jeonghan picked up on the first ring, let alone anything you would say next.
 “I fucking love you, Yoon Jeonghan.”
 The words are out of your mouth so fast, it takes you about thirty seconds of silence between the both of you for it to register. Although for some reason, you don’t take the words back. It feels right.
 Jeonghan coughs on the other side of the phone, though you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Shut up, and tell me this when you’re sober, y/n.”
 “Drunk words are sober thoughts.”
 You hear him laugh, and if you could take that laugh and keep it with you for the rest of your life, you would. But the laugh is gone as quick as it came, replaced by his voice a tone lower, concerned laced through it.
 “Where are you, y/n?”
 Yunjin, as shocked (and happy for you) as she is, steals the phone to give him her address. “Thank you, and hurry up please. She’s…gone. I think you can tell.”
 “Yeah,” Jeonghan says with a chuckle, and true to his word, he shows up forty minutes later to find you absolutely gone sitting on the porch steps with your head leaned on Yunjin’s shoulder. He’d seen you in a collection of small glances he treasures in heart, you in the laziest of outfits in the apartments lobby getting mail, or even sneaking a tiny glance as you yelled at him form your balcony below. It was funny, because you had no idea the guy in the grey hoodie and black sweats you ran into in those small occurrences was the same guy you yelled at every day, and now confessed your love to.
 Even now, as you’re the complete opposite of how he finds you in those moments, he recognizes you in an instant. You’re just as gorgeous even with mascara just about to run past your lashes in black gunk, lipstick smeared from what he hopes not to be another guy, and a skirt rolled up a bit higher than he’d like to notice.
 He’s instantly running towards you, but stops right before his hands make it on your shoulders. His mind is yelling at him for how wrong this is, because you’ve never seen his face before. Yet, you look up at him with the most infatuated look he’s ever seen and suddenly it all feels right. He’s so caught up in that glance that he barely notices Yunjin go back into her house with a small “be safe!”
 “Come on, take it slow,” Jeonghan gently ushers you, letting you lean on his side as he guides you to his car. It’s proving to be a bit difficult as you haven’t taken an eye off of him since you’ve seen him.
 You had been wrong this whole time. Secretly, a part of you knew you wouldn’t care if he was ugly. You had fallen for him anyways and that was all that mattered. But looking at him now, you could burst into tears because even through your drunken thoughts, your entire conscious knew that his man was perfect. He had bags under his dark brown eyes, and his hoodie had fallen off to reveal his nearly black hair, grown to nearly reach his shoulders. And his lips—
 “Why are you looking at me like that?” Jeonghan teases. Of course. It was never Jeonghan unless he was teasing.
 “Because,” You stop him halfway to his car, placing your hands on his shoulders, hoping this drunk side of you will pay off, “I really want to kiss you right now.”
 Jeonghan knows it’s wrong, you’ve known him for months but have only seen his face now, and you were so drunk he wasn’t even sure any of the words you had said for the past hour were true. But he hoped they were, and took this one chance before it was stolen by tomorrow morning.
 “Then do it.”
 So you pulled him closer by the front of his hoodie and did.
 Oh.
 Oh.
 It hit like a truck: you were kissing Yoon Jeonghan, the guy you had convinced yourself was your worst neighbor until today, and it was the best damn kiss you’d ever had.
 You wanted more. You wanted him forever, and you knew it wasn’t your drunk mind thinking. Your tolerance allowed that one truth to slip, you know everything you said was true and all the alcohol did was get the feelings out.
 You stop the makeout to get air from how heated it was, but Jeonghan pulls away before he can get trapped in your lips again.
 “Stop. This isn’t right, y/n.”
 “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”
 He sighs. “You’re drunk. This isn’t actually you, as much as I wish it was.”
 “Trust me, Jeonghan. This is right. I may drunk but I know it.” You’re so painfully sure of it, and mad at him for not getting it. “So shut up and get back to kissing me already.”
 That was all it took for him to let go, and he wished on the shooting star above that he really could trust you. A part of him knew he could, and he would, for however long he lived.
 He continued kissing you again, and let’s just say that thanks to that stupid short skirt you had worn, the drive home wasn’t exactly the safest thing in the world. The skirt didn’t survive the rest of the night.
 —
 You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, a headache, and very sore legs. It took a bit of effort to get up to find Jeonghan, but you had a feeling he was on that balcony. You were right.
 You found him there with his guitar and coffees on the small table. There was even a bagel from the cafe downstairs, your favorite especially during a hangover. How did he know?
 He stopped strumming and watched you sit down on the chair next to him and take a gratefully munch on the bagel and coffee, taking note of the faintest wobble as you walked. He stifled a grin and waited for you to say the first word.
 “Thank you for the meal,” you say between bites, trying to break the tension. You know he was being hesitant, you could tell from how he was looking at you like you were a piece of pottery on display he was too afraid to break by his touch.
 Jeonghan took you being here as a sign you somehow remembered most of what happened yesterday. “This meal or last nights?” He says jokingly, a smile creeping up on his face.
 “Yoon Jeonghan!” A blush appeared over your cheeks.
 He narrowed his eyes at you then looked back at the sunrise. “I didn’t know you were a clumsy drunk.”
 “I’m not.”
 “So your sober self had planned to say you love me and proceed to get rail—”
“OKAY. I get it. Shut up.”
 Jeonghan laughs cheekily, silence covering the two of you as you watch the sunrise and listen to Jeonghan strum his guitar and hum another love song. You now know every lyric is for you.
 Somewhere along the way, your eyes strayed from the sunrise to Jeonghan, watching his long fingers pick at the strings and expertly dark across the guitar’s fretboard. Lips lifting to let out his song.
 “I love you.”
 Jeonghan looks up at you with the most lovesick expression, “A bit quick there, aren’t we? Only confessed last night, love.”
 “Well,” you shrug, “you told me to tell you again when I’m sober.”
 He hums and says nothing in return, but you don’t miss his cheeks covered in a blush, barely escaping from underneath his bangs.
 “Why though?” you ask.
 “What?”
 “Why do you like me back after everything?”
 Jeonghan doesn’t reply, but you can see his mind working through the words.
 “Why do you like me back after four months of me yelling at you? I was always scolding you, I don’t think we’ve had a single conversation where I haven’t. I only confess to you after getting drunk. It seems unfair.”
 Jeonghan stares at you, dumbfounded, and even the slightest bit angered that you see it that way.
 “Y/n, you’re a dumbass. You could give me nothing and I’d still treat you like this.”
 “Why though?”
 “Because that’s what love is. And I love you.”
one reblog = one hot neighbor
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Note
Self-aware isekai'd househusbands, what a great idea that was. The Vil piece was so fun that I wasn't more!
Can you write Riddle as an isekai'd househusband? Thank you!
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, blood, murder, death, violence, stalking, unhealthy relationship, obsession
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Your totally normal isekaid househusband
Imagine, you are the male equivalent of a magical girl in villain version who got isekaid into the normal world
One would think that world domination or something to that would follow, right?
Well no.... said magical girl is right now starting holes into a cookbook
And he kinda likes it- no, he loves to study the culinary arts
Not just for anyone of course
Riddle has become a little helping hand in your home after you found him one day drenched to the bone outside of your little safe haven
But at this point the two of you might be married with you being the breadwinner
In the morning he wakes you up, makes you breakfast, hands you your lunch when you are heading out, cleans the house, spends his time doing... things, greets you when you return gives you food and does more things that would stereotypically be considered as stay-at-home-partner activities
How calm... how sweet... how-Riddle, what are you doing?
Riddle wakes up one hour before you usually do. So what does he do in that hour?
So, half an hour before you wake up he prepares breakfast but the thirty minutes before...
Well he is just standing there, staring at your sleeping figure
Ok. Creepy but at least the time from breakfast till him being done with chores is normal
So uh... remember those “things” I mentioned earlier? Well...
There are those noisy neighbors everyone has, right?
So uh... please don't mention them annoying you in any way. Please don't. Just don't. Oh why? Hehe... don't think too much about what I just said, yes?
When you return Riddle emerges from the kitchen, asking you if everything is alright
Following to that he scolds you for staying out too late
That crazy maniac is running freely out there! All those poor souls lost to them
Your neighborhood might have a... uh... “spontaneous death through decapitation” problem
The crime scenes are clean or rather they are until you enter the room in which “that” happened and you find a surprisingly clean you-know-what sitting there in a chair with their you-know-what laying in their lap, a white rose tucked somewhere in that meat pile as well
Of course Riddle knows that his actions aren't good in any way but when you good him that the old creepy neighbor next door had been scaring you for so long he saw red and...
Let's just say that magic makes it incredibly easy to leave a crime scene without any trace
Ah yes, roses! Let's talk about something easier on the stomach!
Riddle plants of course roses. White ones
Sometimes you even get a few of them, them now being red
You once asked why the roses are red considering that he always plants white ones which he answered with him painting them red just for you
Ah yes, you totally forgot that little thing about his dorm. And isn't it cute? Such a pretty red as well... although the paint is a bit fragile and falls off in flakes if you aren't careful
His pastries are a bit dangerous to eat, he adds sometimes odd things because someone wrote a tip in a baking forum as a joke, but his lunches are pretty good
When you try to help him though he is strictly against it. Especially when it's about doing the laundry
Meh. Probably nothing. Although... you have found splatters of that red paint once or twice on a piece of clothing of his before... probably go it on there the last time he painted the roses red
Though, you do wonder... where is that cleaver that had been missing from the kitchen?
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btsgotjams27 · 2 years
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the nanny diaries ~ myg
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it’s your first day at your new job, and you’re nervous about leaving your one-year-old daughter with your housemate, but he assures you, you have nothing to worry about.
✨ title: the nanny diaries (drabble series) | the i-had-no-choice nanny ✨ pairing: yoongi x single mom!reader ✨ word count: 1.4k |✨ genre: fluff, cute / housemates!au |✨ rating: pg ✨ warnings: cute and wild 1yo, yoongi calls her baby girl (as a term of endearment) ✨ a/n: happy birthday my yoongiiii <3 the little human in this story is based on my chunky, monkey niece, who i love so much. enjoy my friends!
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[ DRABBLES MASTERLIST ] | ✨ next ~ the way you are
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You never expected to be moving in with Min Yoongi, but you had no other choice. The two of you have been neighbors for the last five years. He'd seen you go through it all: from meeting the guy who was bad news to watching him move in, knock you up and then leave. He warned you plenty of times, but like the stubborn woman you are, you didn't listen.
“Yoongi, are you sure you can watch her today? I can call out of work if you can’t,” you asked, trying to catch Ara, who kept running away from your grasp. Her newfound discovery of walking kept you busy, along with you trying to ensure she didn’t break any of Yoongi’s expensive music equipment.
Yoongi’s lips thinned into a straight line. He didn’t want to be a jerk and say no. He knew how difficult it was to ask for help, let alone trust someone to watch Ara. He understood that you’d do anything to protect her. So, he wanted to ease the burden in any way he could.
“You can’t call out of work. It’s your first day.”
“I know–but I’m sure my boss would understand.”
He picked Ara up, setting her on his hip, his arm tightly holding her. He looked at the chunky monkey, “We’re gonna have so much fun, aren’t we?” This was a way to convince himself. He didn’t have much interaction with children besides when he was one. Today would be very interesting, he thought.
Ara shrieked at the top of her lungs, squirming to escape Yoongi’s grasp. The two of you blinked and made a face at the noisy baby. You knitted your brows, unconvinced that Yoongi really had it under control. You pulled out your phone, ready to dial your boss’ number. “I’m–just gonna call out.”
Yoongi walked to you, pushing the phone away. “If I have any questions, I promise I’ll call you, okay? You have nothing to worry about. I got this,” he encouraged while Ara continued to wobble on her two little feet, shrieking as she ran around him. “See–she’s excited.”
You had to let go at one time or another. You couldn’t be jobless forever. You needed a way to provide for your little Ara, and Yoongi had already given so much to the two of you. So, the least you could do was make money and get out of his hair. “Okay,” you sighed, stuffing your phone back into your pocket. “If you need anything, anything. I’m only a phone call away.”
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“Okay, baby girl–please be good for Uncle Yoongi. I’ll be back later. I love you.”
Yoongi practically had to kick you out of the apartment, but finally, you were out of the door and on your way to work.
“Ara, we have to run some errands today. It’s time to pick out your outfit,” Yoongi grabbed two shirts - one pink with flowers and the other purple with stars and set them on the table in front of him and Ara. She tilted her head, hands pounding the table, staring at the options before her little chubby hands grabbed the purple star shirt, babbling away. “Good choice. Now onto your pants.”
He laid out black leggings and soft blue jeans. “What do you think, Ara? I personally like the black leggings, but it’s your outfit, not mine.” She began to squirm while in his lap, taking blue jeans along with her. “Blue jeans it is.”
After getting Ara dressed, it was now Yoongi’s turn. Like earlier, he laid out two options on his bed, and like clockwork, Ara came wobbling and babbling away into Yoongi’s room. He picked her up, setting her on the bed. “Which one do you like?” he asked, pointing to one option, then the other.
“Ah-bu. Ah-bu,” Ara cooed, clapping her hands, a wide smile spanning across her face, then she hid her eyes with her tiny hands.
“Are we playing peek-a-boo?” Yoongi flashed a gummy smile. Who knew this little human could make him smile? He covered his eyes. “Where’s Ara?” He looked at her, and she mimicked him, hiding again. “Silly girl. Come on, help me pick.”
She threw herself back on the pile consisting of a black hoodie, a simple white tee, and jeans. “Just what I was thinking.”
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Thankfully, the grocery store wasn’t busy since it was still early in the morning, but Ara was definitely a handful. He had to give it to you, being able to keep up with her. He didn’t envy you one bit, but it did make him earn more respect for you.
He brought everything he could think of to keep Ara busy–her favorite bunny plush and a soft, squeaky book. His last resort would be playing Cocomelon on his phone, but he couldn’t stand the endless nursery rhymes of the pale cartoon child.
“Ba-ba-ba.”
Yoongi continued shopping for a few items off his list as Ara babbled away, violently squeezing the squeaky book in her hands. He grabbed a cake and put it in his cart, and then Ara decided to throw the book back, hitting him in the face. “Aye–” he uttered, rubbing his cheek. “Baby girl–this is how you lose things,” he chuckled, grabbing the book and handing it back to her.
Ara resumed pounding the squeaky book and then threw herself back, sticking her tongue out. Yoongi stared at her. Babies are so weird, he thought.
“Oh my gosh. Is this your baby? She’s so cute!” 
“No–uh–” He was unsure how to explain the situation between you and him.
“It’s so nice to see a man caring for his baby. Mommy is a lucky one, isn’t she?” The woman directed the last comment toward Ara, tickling her side, in which Yoongi pushed the cart away from her. Is this what parents with cute children always have to deal with? Strangers coming up and trying to touch their children?
“Has the bar gotten so low for men or something?” The woman stood straight, taken aback by his words. “Why are men praised for doing the bare minimum? I’m literally pushing her in a cart.”
The woman mumbled an apology and went on her way. He didn’t mean to come across as blunt, but he couldn’t help but notice the plethora of women giggling and smiling when he had Ara. He shook his head in disgust and scoffed, “Bet if your mom were pushing you, it’d be completely different, huh?”
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“Yoongi–” you cried out, plugging your ears when you walked through the door. The rap music could be heard from down the hallway, and you wondered who was playing it so loud. You should’ve known it was your roommate. “Why are you blasting rap music right now?”
He brought his pointer finger to his lips, trying to shush you, then pointed to the sleeping baby on his shoulder. He shuffled toward you, hoping he wouldn’t wake up Ara. “Cocomelon wasn’t working, so I had to put on something, and this finally calmed her down.”
You deadpanned. “Big Poppa by Notorious B.I.G. calmed her down?”
“Hey–don’t question Biggie,” he grinned, then shuffled backward, dancing to the song. “I love it when you call me big poppa, throw your hands in the air if you’s a true player.” He threw his arm up, grooving to the beat.
You smiled and shook your head. You couldn’t help but sing along too, and then you looked over at the dinner table, and there sat a cake with cats decorated on top. “Oh my god–Yoongi, is it your birthday?” He nodded, his head nestled against Ara’s. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care, but my mom ordered this cake and insisted I celebrate it.”
“Here, let me take Ara so you can enjoy your cake,” you stated, holding your arms out for your baby girl.
But Yoongi refused. “I got it. She might wake up if I transfer her to you.”
Jeez–when did Yoongi get so good at this?
He walked into your room, gently setting her in the crib beside your bed. He shushed her as he stepped back, hoping she wouldn’t wake up. Ara let out a big sigh before turning on her side. Whew, he thought. Crisis averted.
“Everything good?” He nodded yes, setting the baby camera on the table beside you. The two of you watched Ara sleeping peacefully. “Thanks again for watching her.”
Yoongi grinned. “Anytime.”
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✨ next ~ the way you are
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horangboosadan · 10 months
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GAM3 BO1 | JEON WONWOO [VER TWO]
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pairing: jeon wonwoo x gender neutral!reader
synopsis: when your cute neighbor suddenly texts you about your being noisy, you immediately listen. but when he turns a little ruder than expected, you don’t know what to think
genre: one shot smau, neighboors au, miscommunication
notes: i wrote two versions of this bc why not, and i thought why not post both. theyre fairly different but with the same overall premise. (some things are definitely the same, but it's due to the story line, okay? it is up to you if you wanna read both or just one)
version one | main masterlist
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boo talks
as mentioned, you can go read version one [here]. i think personally, i like this one a little better, but i liked the other one enough to post both. thank you so much for reading. and once again, thanking @leewonkyeom for letting me have the idea.
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