#this is accurate and cursed and i hate it

[myokk]

quidditch champions seb

[vyladromeave]

Day 4 of Aphtober is Song

NO, SHE DON'T KNOW WHAT SHE DOES TO ME / YES, I CONFESS THAT I'M BLIND I CANT DENY I WAS BORN TO BE A MARTYR FOR LOVE / IT'S JUST A PART OF MY PUNCH-DRUNK DESTINY (I Fight Dragons, Punch Drunk Destiny)

[cursed-anduknowit]

DRAKEN

[ofthehands]

Happy TCM2 day

[fryeswiththat]

With all the grief I've heard about Disney+'s Annabeth not fitting her book description, not once have I seen those same people bemoan about Percy "black hair and seafoam eyes" Jackson being cast as a BLOND kid.

[im-literally-just-bees]

Just because I can draw doesn’t mean I should

[sovaharbor]

no joe locke is not a good casting for billy kaplan please stop

[togeblurbs]

Do You Miss Us?

Five Hargreeves x F!Reader - angst with a happy ending (yeah… happy ish ending)

synopsis: when you find out Five and Lila kissed, you don’t know what to feel. All you know is that you need to get away. Because it was one thing for them to kiss, and another to realize that in the time spent apart, Five Hargreeves may not love you anymore.

content/warnings: hints of anxiety, curse words, cheating, s4 spoilers, mentions of disassociation, morally grey characters, not lore accurate, not really canon, doesn’t focus on the plot moreso reader & fives relationship, lmk if i forgot anything

“Y/n, please,”

you continue walking, wiping away the incessant tears that stream down your face. you feel nauseas, and your chest hurts in a way that it pains you to breathe.

he catches your wrist in his hand, and you turn around, angered. “What? What could you possibly say that would make this better, Five?”

he looks distraught, if not more than you and the thought has your hands shaking in fury. for what reason did he have to be so upset? you weren’t the one who disappeared for a few hours - which ended up being seven years - and then kissed another person.

“I fucked up, I didn’t… You don’t understand, I was losing my mind.” he slips his hand from your wrist to intertwine your fingers, but you shake his grip off in disgust. he looks at you so brokenly at the action, you almost feel bad.

but then you remember her, and you feel the bile rise to your throat once more. “I don’t understand?” you say slowly, taking a step forward.

you point at him, “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand. I knew some shit was going on between you two, with your secrets and odd glances. But I trusted you, Five. You know why?”

he looks at you with wide eyes, seeming almost unsettled by your outburst. “Because I loved you.” you whisper.

you huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you wipe the remnants of your tears. “But that didn’t matter in the end. You were alone with her for seven years, so it makes sense. I wish you nothing but happiness, Five. Even if it’s away from me.”

you turn, moving to walk again, but he crashes into you from behind and wraps his arms around you. “Please,” his hands are trembling where they rest on your stomach, and although you want to soothe him, you don’t think you are in the place to at the moment.

you take a shaky deep breath, before carefully untangling his hands from your torso. he whimpers pitifully at the action, and you have to stop yourself from giving in and drawing him closer.

you used to bring him comfort, give him love and make him feel safe; but it seemed it was not enough; because in the end he chose someone else.

you turn back around, “I need some time alone right now, Five.” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, ripping the skin. you don’t want to look at his face, so you choose to stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

Five lifts his hand for a moment, before dropping it. “Will you come back?” his voice has never sounded so childlike; as though he can’t bear the thought of you leaving and never coming back.

you swallow harshly, “I’ll come back.”

he nods, his own arms wrapping around himself.

“I just don’t know if it will be for you.”

you take a chance and glance at his face, hating the way your heart hurts when his expression crumples.

back in the room, you were so sure he was in love with Lila, but now you’re starting to doubt yourself. because if he truly felt something for her, would he really be crying in front of you right now?

you don’t know. you also don’t feel like you have it in you to make any assumptions.

you turn around, your back facing Five. “I’ll see you later. Don’t follow me.”

and with that, you walk out of Five’s life, unknowingly carrying his heart with you.

-

Five lays in a bed - not his, for years it’s never been his - and recounts the last seven years.

he remembers missing you immensely in the beginning. for the first three years, you were all he could think about.

and then his friendship with Lila began to grow. the time he wished to spend with you, he was now spending with her. it was odd at first, because the two were not close friends of any sort. but when you’re trapped in a different time-line, or different universe, you become allies with those you normally wouldn’t.

somewhere along the way, they had provided one another with the comfort they lacked from their significant others.

it wasn’t supposed to end up that way. it wasn’t.

but now Five can’t get the way you looked at him out of his head; it was like he physically shot you in the chest, or told you he didn’t love you. like he betrayed you.

he grasps at his own chest, curling up into a ball beneath the covers. he feels like he’s going to die.

and maybe that would be for the best. he’s lived a long, torturous life. with a nut-job for a father, siblings that were always thinking about themselves and a lover who he’d ruined everything with, what was the point of life anymore?

its been a month since Five had seen you, and the ache in his chest has yet to go away. he couldn’t find it in himself to eat, often laying in bed as Luther force-fed food down his throat in fear that he would truly pass away.

it’s just another late night, and Five takes the time to stare at the broken glass window as the sun begins to set. the only sound in the room comes from the clock, the constant ticks helping him disassociate and think about you.

he distantly hears the door creak open, but is too exhausted to look at who it is. he doesn’t really care anyway, because he knows it’s not going to be you.

“Five?”

he blinks slowly. it almost sounded like you, but he figured he was hearing things at this point.

“Five,” he feels a hand smooth over his shoulder. gentle in a way he’d only ever experienced with you. his head turns, if only slightly, and he catches sight of your concerned face.

his eyes widen, he forces himself to sit up even if his arms have little to no strength left. “What are you… what are you doing here?” he croaks.

you sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. it’s far too away from Five, he wants to pull you in the bed and bring you into his arms.

“Should I leave?” you glance at the door for a second, but Five immediately grabs onto your hands and shouts, “No! No, please. Please stay.”

you look shocked at his outburst, nodding softly.

the silence in the room is deafening, but Five is merely happy you’re there. Seven years and then some apart from you was not easy, and after his last conversation with you, he knows he’ll feel unsettled until he makes it right. if he can make it right.

“I did some thinking.” you start, cautious.

Five watches you with fear, scared to hear your next words.

“I’m not angry anymore. I understand you went through a lot being trapped again, and I can’t blame you for falling in love with Lila since she was there for you. I do wish you broke it off with me before kissing her, but what’s done is done.”

your voice comes out stable, like you’ve thought it all through and are content to leave things as they are. but Five is shaking his head the moment you say the word love and Lila in the same sentence, because that could not be more far from the truth.

“Wait, please stop it,” he begs, seeming desperate.

“I understand why you might think that way, but I do not love Lila.” he feels lighter with the words being spoken. he’s been aching to clarify this the moment you found out they kissed, but hasn’t had the chance.

your brows furrow, and you pick at the cotton sleeve of your hoodie. “Um, I see.” you look so confused, he can’t help but move closer to you.

you look at him, body rigid. you don’t seem comfortable around him anymore, and the thought has him clutching his chest in pain.

“Y/n, I love you.”

you recoil immediately, and it prompts Five to reach out instinctively.

the words tumble out of his mouth, like he’s scared you’re going to run before he can finish getting everything out. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Lila and I.. when we, you know, it was a moment of weakness after losing you and being trapped again. I wished every day that I could see you, but I was stuck.”

you move to stand, and a part of Five’s heart breaks for what he thinks will be the last time ever. because if you walk out of this room, he knows he won’t be able to love again. you are it for him, and if he doesn’t have you, then he’d rather stay alone for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry, I truly am. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I need you to know that I love you.”

at the end of his little speech he breathes out, listening to his heart thump loudly in his ears.

it’s odd, he thinks. love has always been so painful, so destructive. but with you it was simple. it was calm, steady and soft. he wonders; he hopes, that he’ll be able to experience it again. after all, a healthy type of love was rare for his kind.

he watches you walk closer, reaching a hand out and placing it on his cheek. he leans into it, closing his eyes as he missed your touch immensely. you use the other hand to push his hair back, planting a kiss on his forehead.

his eyes shoot open at the feeling, and he stares at you in wonder. he begins to feel hope bubble in his chest.

“You love me?” you ask quietly.

he nods, “Only you. Only ever you.”

you exhale, shoulders drooping as you move to sit beside him. you wrap an arm around his waist and one on his neck, pulling him down as you lay on the small bed. his head falls to your neck, and he sneaks a small kiss in, hoping you won’t push him away.

“I can’t promise that i’ll forgive you completely. At least not right now. And I’ll probably hate Lila forever, but I don’t think I can walk away from you knowing you love me.”

you run a hand through his hair, feeling him nod into the space between your head and your shoulder. “I know, I completely understand.”

you pat his head gently, staring up at the ceiling.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t think I ever won’t.”

he rubs his face into your neck, and you feel something wet touch it. you card your fingers through his hair once more, cooing.

“Thank you,” his voice comes out shaky, but he hopes you hear the sincerity.

you shift the two of you until you’re underneath the covers, cradling him in your arms with his head on your chest. “Don’t thank me yet. I will be making out with Diego as revenge.”

Five lifts his head, “What?!”

sorry if this is ooc:>

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight

contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.

author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎

7:58 PM

satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.

but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.

dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.

now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.

no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.

you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.

you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.

which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.

"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"

he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."

you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."

at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.

"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"

"satoru." 

"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.

10:34 PM

"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.

it's been like this every night.

"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"

"is it about the blindfold?"

"obviously."

he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."

"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"

he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."

you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."

"then why'd you as-"

"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.

satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."

"you seriously think i'd do that?"

"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 

"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"

"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."

he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.

so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"

"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 

"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."

satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 

but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 

how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.

a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 

but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.

so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.

somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.

a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 

"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"

satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."

he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.

to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.

"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"

"satoru, you look the same."

he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

"yep."

"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."

"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."

"ah, i believe it was only six days."

"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"

satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."

he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 

but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.

[koqabear]

love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6

“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”

yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 10.6K

warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it

smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)

Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-

Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 

It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 

“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”

But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it. 

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing. 

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 

But for you, anything could change. 

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 

“For existing.” 

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 

This was… progress. 

But you’re still mad at him. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no. 

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 

I miss you so so so so so much. 

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 

That was your second mistake. 

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 

I’m sorry. 

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another. 

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another. 

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 

There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 

There goes all his progress. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What? 

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 

Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 

Choi Yeonjun. 

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification. 

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time. 

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 

Your meal was free. 

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through. 

Yet another mistake on your part. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 

 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.” 

You hope you’re not making a mistake. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it�� I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause. 

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)

[otakubimbo]

Don't Lose Control

Miguel x F!Reader

Plot w/ porn.

My legally required sex pollen fic as a fanfic writer. @safixiovi requested Miguel so here we are.

You and Miguel are on a mission together and nothing is going right. Your tech is all messed up and now it seems Miguel has gotten sick from something. He felt as if he was losing control of himself.

OB Sticky: I wrote this with one hand in my pants so excuse any grammatical errors and definitely not proofread. Also writing smut make me so embarrassed so if you hate it, don't. <3 Reblogs and Likes welcome, requests are still open.

masterlist

Confusion was written all over your face as you looked at the data on your computer in the universe you and Miguel were in currently. You had been working on tech to detect fluctuations in the multi-verse that could detect where anomalies would appear before they did. It had been doing well for the last few weeks, you were able to detect the appearance of an anomaly in three separate universes. So, the confusion now came with the fact that the monitor was detecting two fluctuations in the universe you were currently in, but nothing was showing up. The two of y’all had separated, you went to check out one of the fluctuations and he went to the other. But nothing, nothing was there in the area that read the fluctuations.

You groan out in the abandoned building that you were in, frustrated at the lack of any appearances.

“It was working so well, what the hell?” You grumble to yourself, typing in code strings into your computer trying to see if you can recalibrate the device that it was connected to get a more accurate reading. As your frustrations grew, your watch started going off for an incoming call. You answer it in hopes that at least on his end there was at least a sighting on his end.

“I’m in a damn field and not a single sight of anything but clouds of pollen.” Miguel’s digital image huffs at you. You groan, rubbing your face in irritation.

“Let’s fucking call it then and find somewhere to stay tonight or whatever.” You say abruptly hanging up on him. He would be able to find you, you knew that, and you didn’t really have the energy to hear his complaints about your tech or whatever he had to say.

Meanwhile, with Miguel.

You really hung up on him, in his face when it was your idea to have the both of you out here testing out your tech. Jess was left in charge while the two of you were gone but still, you had insisted and yet there was nothing here and the two of y’all had been at this investigation all day.  He cursed in Spanish as he coughed from all the pollen he was inhaling. It was everywhere, irritating his throat, eyes, and skin. It wasn’t even that he was frustrated your tech was having what seemed to be issues, it was that you insisted on checking things out separately when he figured the whole reason you wanted him here was to do this mission together, with each other. He had grown accustomed to your presence, to your voice, to your smile. It was all while you were figuring out the mechanics of this new tech of yours. To a certain extent, he was always fond of you, he had found you brilliant, driven, and innovative, one of the few spiders he could tolerate. But things started to change when you came up with the idea for this tech, the glittering in your eyes as you made strides on it. Every new aspect you brought to him, you picked his brain late into the night. The time the two of you spent together increased over the months and he realized that he really enjoyed your company. You brought a certain type of peace to him that he never thought he would get before, he actually started going to sleep more at night because he would make you go to bed which you wouldn’t unless he agreed to also. The two of you had got as close as someone could to Miguel.

Miguel cursed again as he felt his body heating up as he went to the directions you sent him for where the two of you would be spending the night he figured. He assumed he just needed to get whatever was in that field off of him and he would be fine after that. When he found you in the crowded lobby of the hotel, you looked irritated but so damn sexy.

Wait.

Where was his mind going right then? He would have to be blind not to realize that you were attractive. Of course, he acknowledged that about you, almost every spider has mentioned it since the day you joined. But the way you looked right now, drive a man to sin. Your curls were down for once, edges slightly sweated out, your skin held a red tone which made your brown skin glow slightly. It was obvious that you were frustrated with the way your nose crinkled making your nose hoop push up slightly on your face. The way your arms were crossed against your chest pushed your breasts up in a way that had them almost spilling out the top of your tank top, the sight going straight to his dick. His breathing started getting heavy as he gazed at you and then finally caught your eye, having you quickly walk towards him realizing how much of a sway to your hips there is when you walk had him feeling parched.  

“O’Hara, we have a problem” You start as you let out an exasperated breath looking up at him. This is when you notice his appearance, he is red, EXTREMELY RED, looking as if he just took on several baddies right before getting there. 

“Is everything okay?” concern is written all over your face as you gaze up at him, lips slightly parted and all Miguel could think about is what they would look like wrapped around his-----. His thoughts were cut off by you calling his name.

“Yeah, I’m fine, that stupid pollen is just all over me. Irritating” He brushes your concerns off saying a few curses in Spanish.

“Okay, well, they only had one room available because apparently there’s some sort of festival going on and I got the last room that was available at like any hotel.” You say as you shift your bag on your shoulder, which takes Miguel's focus back to your chest. The silver chain around your neck sits right above your cleavage. All he could think about was how high would it bounce if you were to ride his---

Again his thoughts were cut off by your voice.

“Alright, let's just get you to the room so you can get whatever is on you off and I can do some work.” You say as you grab his arm, dragging him to the elevators so you can get to your shared room. You didn’t have any clue what was wrong with Miguel, he never usually seemed so zoned out but you assumed whatever the field he was in was affecting him and his focus. His powers were different than other spiders, so you could figure that it was probably a chemical from their plants that was messing with him. You would have to send it off for some tests to see what it could be.

Once in the room, you tell Miguel to go ahead and use the shower to get himself together after you grab a sample of what was on him to send to Lyla.

“Hey Ly, can you analyze this? It got on Mig and he’s been dazed and out of it ever since we got to the hotel.” You say as you speak to the AI. She gives you a knowing look when you mention a hotel and she hears the sound of a shower in the background. “Don’t start, there’s literally no other rooms anywhere and I don’t want to leave tonight just in case the readings were actually accurate, and two anomalies show up. It wouldn’t be logical to leave just set.”

Lyla knew the way you felt for Miguel, she was there while yall were spending all of that time together. The looks that you took at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the way you would sigh contently while working in the lab with him, and the way you spoke to him when it was just the two of you. Anyone with eyes could see how attractive that man was but it wasn’t just that which is what made you fall for him. Regardless of the way he could come off, he was kind and caring. He may not show it in the ways that other people did but he had such a big heart and was truly thoughtful of other people. The man would take everything on his shoulders just to make things easier for everyone. You admired him, you adored him, and he made you feel safe and understood and cared for. You really liked him, it didn’t help that he was a walking Adonis. His looks were just the cherry on top for you. Everyone seemed to know your affinity for him, except him. It didn’t help that you were always making excuses for his behavior, Jess would make jokes at your expense all the time about it.

“But the two of you sharing a room it seems?” Lyla giggles coming to sit on your shoulder.

“Cause there wasn’t anything else available” You whisper hiss at her, and she just giggles again “Please just analyze the sample I sent”

“Anything for Miguels other half.” She jokes as she fades away, and you just groan trying to focus back on your readings and tech.

Miguel did not want you that way. You knew that, he would never want you that way. He was a serious man with a hard past that never allowed for the option of romance. The multiverse and stopping anomalies were more than enough to occupy Miguel's mind and heart. You sigh, knowing that your affection will never be returned by him busying yourself with your work while he finishes his shower.

While in the shower, Miguel had already cum two times, and nothing was helping. His mind only filled with you and how you would feel under him, on top of him, how your lips would feel, the noises you would possibly make. It didn’t help that he knew you were just in the next room, he could almost feel you. He needed you badly and he didn’t know why it was so badly. For once, it was as if he lost control of himself. The way he needed to feel you, to hear you, to taste you, to be inside you. Mierda. He came again with just the thought of you in the other room, just the thought of you. It wasn’t enough but it would have to be, he knew you would worry if he took too long in there.

As he exits the bathroom, you notice you hunched over your laptop on the bed, fidgeting with your tech with such a concentration on what you were doing. The image made his dick throb. Fuck. His stuttering as he entered the room, caught your attention from your work. You only glance at him as you continue tinkering.

“Are you feeling any better?” You ask, still typing away.

“Yeah” He lies as he attempts to keep his voice from sounding strained.

“Good. I still sent some samples to Lyla to analyze.” You start before pausing for a second, “Since we don’t know what’s going on I think we should try to both sleep with some comfort tonight just in case we get an alert or something. We have been at this all day, so we need some rest.”

It took Miguel a second for him to realize what you meant by what you said. You meant that the two of you would have to share the bed. Together. Sleep next to each other. Together. Together, in the same bed. Together. He could barely contain himself in the shower, how in the hell was he supposed to contain himself sleeping next to you?

“Can you take a look at this while I take a shower? I can’t find anything that is wrong but I really don’t understand what’s going on.” You say only slightly looking up at him and then back down as you finish typing what you were working on shifting to get up while still trying to work.  

“Yeah sure” He attempts not to look at you as you put your stuff down, trying to finish your coding, distracting yourself from your previous statements, attempting not to think about you and Miguel sharing a bed. You don’t even look at him as you make your way into the bathroom.

The only thing Miguel could think about was you undressing in the bathroom, what you would look like as you caressed your body with a soapy washcloth. Mierda. How was he supposed to sleep next to you tonight?? He felt like he was losing control. You seemed to not be affected by the thought of sharing a bed with him, something about that was making him feel more feral. The image of you sleeping peacefully as he looms over you, starting with pressing his lips to your unexpected jawline, making his way down your body with his mouth. He could imagine your breath hitching as you started to wake up at his actions. Would you whimper as he made his way to your clothed cunt? Would you grip his hair as he teases you by licking you through your panties? Would you beg for him?

Mierda.

He was painfully hard again. What the fuck was he going to do? What the fuck was going on? He needed to calm himself down, he had no clue why he was acting like this. He was mumbling curses in Spanish, not even realizing that you had gotten out of the shower.

“Mig” You call out to him softly; he looks like he is in distress. His head snapped to your voice. Mierda, that damn nickname wasn’t helping him in this situation and neither did the way you looked. It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special or particularly sexy, it was a plain oversized shirt and he could see the peak of shorts underneath. That cute expression of concern that you wore, your gaze gentle on him. You called his name again.

“Are you okay Miguel? Do you think we should go back to headquarters? We can always just send some other spiders out to keep on alert.” You suggest moving towards him. At your movements, it was as if he snapped out of whatever spell was on him.

“No, no it’s fine.” He rebuttals, “The tech is too new to trust with anyone else. I’ll be fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You nod at him, still worried about him but going to bed was probably the best option for him right now. The two of you get into bed, laying down on opposite sides, and backs towards each other.

Miquel can’t sleep. Every other minute, he's trying to gently ( as gentle as someone his size can be) toss and turn in his discomfort. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, especially with the way he could feel your warmth even from the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, his excessive tossing didn’t allow you to sleep either. You were worried about him but you know his stubbornness wouldn’t free him enough to tell you the issue. But at this rate, neither one of you would be able to sleep tonight at this so you conceited and turned over with a sigh to face him. He was lying on his back not realizing that you had woken up, it looked as if he was sweating. Did he have a fever? Was he really sick? You lean up on your elbow, extending your hand out to touch his forehead.

“Miguel you don’t look well.” You speak as your hand reaches out towards him, right before your hand lands he grabs your wrist and looks at you with wild eyes.

“Don’t” He says through gritted teeth.

“Mig, please, what is wrong?” You ask so innocently, while all his thoughts about you aren’t even close to innocent. With you so close now, with that look in your eye, Miguel was losing all of his sanity. Fuck it. Swiftly, with your wrist still in his hand he straddles himself on top of you. Your eyes immediately go wide as you feel your body move, looking up at him, you don’t fight him though.

“I----” He starts, panting above you.

“What Miguel?” You asked breathily, fuck you looked so beautiful beneath him. Your eyes find him and they're red. He looks almost feral.

“ I don’t know how much longer I can control myself” His voice is strained as his grip on your wrist gets a little harder. The way he was looking at you, wasn’t something you expected. The look of unbridled lust in his eyes, you could feel it coming off his body.

Your voice barely above a whisper calls out his name.

“Stop, please. You don’t understand how badly I need to ruin you.” He groans as his head falls to the side of your head, his face burying into your neck breathing in deeply with a growl. Your breath hitches in your throat, unable to think clearly of what is going on in this moment. The stoic and controlled man that you had grown to know just told you he wanted to ruin you and the biggest problem was that you were okay with it. There was a newfound ache between your legs while he was speaking to you and now the ache was growing with the way he was breathing into your neck. Fuck it. You roll your hips into his, feeling his restrained bulge twitch with the impact.

“Then ruin me, Miguel.”

His head shoots up at your words, it was taking all of his self-control at that moment to not rip the clothes you were wearing off. He had to be sure he understood you correctly, he had to be sure you knew how serious he was about ruining you, destroying you, making you his own.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, hermosa.” He strains out, unconsciously pushing his hips into you, you let out a small moan at the sensation and Miguel thought he almost came just from that sound alone.

“I do, I want you. I want you to ruin me, Miguel.” You say, a lustful look in your eyes as he’s still panting above you. He was trying to hold on to his last ounce of self-restraint until you said one word. “Please”

That was all it took before he sank his fangs into your neck. You gasped at the sudden pain until you felt him licking the wound he just created making you moan his name at the sensation. His hands are all over your body as he is kissing and sucking on your neck, moving your legs so that he is in between them to grind himself into you.

“Fuck Miguel” You moan as your hips meet with his, “Kiss me”

He immediately abides by your request, mouth meeting yours in an aggressive lustful kiss. Miguel forces his tongue into your mouth as he presses his body into yours. His claws digging into your plush thighs which had you moaning into his mouth as he explored yours. The both of you breathing heavily as he moves again from your mouth to your jaw to the other side of your neck marking you the same as he did on the other side. After he is pleased with his marks he leans up, gazing down at your chest heaving, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. Fuck, he doesn’t even bother lifting your shirt off you as he rips it in the front to expose you to him. The view was better than he imagined, of course, he had seen you in your spidey suit which didn’t leave much to the imagination but this view, actually seeing you bare under him was just too much. He came then and there, not even caring because the next time he came he hoped it would be inside of you, your eyes widened at the guttural moans he made as he came. Without even a moment of shame or embarrassment, his mouth latches onto one of your breaths as he palms the other.

“Wait wait, Miguel did you come?” You attempt to get out during his onslaught on your tits.

“Yes, and I’m going to come again, inside you.” He says as he makes his way down your body to your clothed cunt. He had no shame in his words, as he quickly made shreds of your shorts and underwear, he could live out his fantasies of teasing you at another time. He needed to taste you right now. Before you could even respond to his words, or to the fact that he has ripped all your clothes off Miguel's tongue is lapping at your folds. You can’t help but squirm underneath him, as he’s eating you like a man starved. Fuck was he obsessed with the way you tasted; he knew he was going to have to have this all the time now.  He made out with your clit as your hands dug into his scalp gripping his hair. It was all so overwhelming; you couldn’t even grind yourself against his face as his strong hands held your hips down. You were reaching your peak faster than ever before, you were moaning his name like a chant as you got closer and closer to getting over the edge.

The sound of his name being moaned off your lips was driving him even crazier, his hips pushing into the bed as he starts sucking directly on your clit. He moves one of the hands that was holding your hips down to shove two of his thick long fingers into your clenching waiting hole. It was as if he already knew your body because his fingers automatically found the spot that made your vision blurred. Your body responded on its own as you came, and came hard, squirting all over his face. The squirting caught him off guard, as he pulled his face out of your cunt with a surprised expression.  Oh fuck, he needed to see you do that again, and by the way your walls squeezed his fingers as you did, he knew he needed to see you do it again but on his dick. He freezes himself from the restraint of his own clothing as he comes back to hover over you. You looked so damn beautiful, your lips were puffy from his kiss and he could see the bite marks that he left on you, pupils blown and breath coming back down from your orgasm.  He didn’t give you much time to recover as he grabbed your legs throwing them over his shoulder and pounding into you.

You scream his name as he furiously slams his hips into yours. His hands are under your ass, grip tight as he lifts you slightly to go deeper into you, too deep. The tip of his dick ramming into your cervix with every thrust. You had never been one that could just come from penetration, but the way Miguel was pounding into right now seemed was going to change that. He can feel the way your clamp down on his as the tightness returns back to your stomach. Fuck you were going to come again, you were so sensitive, so sensitive for him. Your nails digging cresent shaped marks into his arms as you come again this time on his dick.

“I’m going to come inside you” He tells you through his thrusts and the aggressive manner in which he said it made you clamp down on him even harder. He spills into you, so much that it starts leaking out as he continues to pound into you. You had assumed once he came again he would stop but he doesn’t, you can still feel how hard he is inside of you as he pumps his cum deeper into you. As the final bursts of his come stop, he pulls out swiftly getting off the bed, grabbing your ankles to drag you to the edge. Flipping your body over and pulling up you on your knees, he shoves your face into the bed as he inserts himself into you again. His pace doesn’t slow down as he ruts into you. It felt like he was even deeper than before. One of his hands moves to your shoulder to pull you back as he slams into you, his other hand moves to your clit to rub hard circles on it stimulating you further.

“Fuck Mig--- im--- im cuming” You scream as you cum again hard, doing exactly what he wanted and squirting. He could feel it all over his hand, making him cum again inside of you. You look back at him as you finish feeling him cum in you, thinking that he must be done. The sight you see behind you makes you know that you weren’t even close to finished. Miguel had his hand that was covered in your squirt up to his face inhaling deeply before he stuck his tongue out licking his fingers. He gets even harder inside you; it doesn’t look like there would be any sleep tonight, he really was going to ruin you.

The next morning you wake up, bruised and sore. Your head was on Miguel's chest and he was snoring peacefully under you. With a groan, you get up as you feel a notification on your gizmo, you had almost completely forgotten that you had requested Lyla to analyze the substance. As you look at the results you feel incredibly embarrassed, mortified. The substance that was on Miguel was some sort of aphrodisiac, so that’s why he was acting that way towards you. As you were getting further into your head about last night events Miguel woke up.

“Your thinking woke me up.” He grumbles as he sits up looking over your shoulder to see what you were looking at.  He reads the results of the substance that was on him and now he understands what you were possibly thinking. You thought he only wanted you because of the aphrodisiac, but with the way he marked you he would have thought you would know that he wanted YOU and you ALONE.

“Hey” He says as he touches your shoulder, you jump back from his touch.

“Hey, yeah so it’s fine you know. We can just forget about everything last night, I know you couldn’t control yourself. Its fine” You ramble on trying to not embarrass yourself further, he gentle grabs your chin as you speak a stark contrast from his behavior last night and some of this morning.  He doesn’t say anything but look into your eyes giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“It wasn’t just that, I only wanted it to be with you. I only thought about you. Alright?” He says in the most gentle way you have ever seen him speak. A small smile forms on your lips from the reassurance.

“Alright.” You say and he gives you another kiss, a little more aggressive this time. How was this man not tired anymore?! You saw the half-life on the substance he should be done. “Miguel, the effects should have worn off by now.”

“They have,” He says against your mouth. “This is YOUR effect” moving your hand to allow you to feel for yourself how you affect him. Before things could go any further, you get a notification from your new tech and your gizmo that there were two anomalies in this dimension, around the areas that you detected yesterday.

“See, I knew it!” You exclaim as you activate your suit almost forgetting what you were just doing with Miguel. His dick twitches under your hard and you remember what’s going on. “Oh right, uhm this first, and then we can go back to headquarters and I can take care of that for you,” You say with a sultry smile which makes his dick twitch again.

You and Miguel catch both of the anomalies in record time, him being extra careful to avoid the pollen this time. The two of you continue where you left off after you get back to headquarters, immediately both taking your leave which received knowing glances from both Lyla and Jess.

[jenscx]

ATTENTION — kim minji smau

being the music bank mc has its pros. being able to meet your bias, interacting with other idols… too bad your partner is the only idol you hate; kim minji.

STATUS LOADING… finished!

TAGS — fluff, angst, idol!minji x idol!reader, enemies to lovers, secret pining, mubank partners, cursing

UPDATES — wednesdays and fridays

! IMPORTANT ! this fic is not an accurate portrayal of the kpop idols mentioned. everything stated is fiction.

CHARACTERS… IVE lost my mind | hyein antis

00. prologue

01. confrontation

02. annoyingly pretty

03. weverse live

04. dating rumours

05. shut up

06. nightlife

07. ok translator

08. STOP BEING GAY

09. eye contact

10. kys loser

11. fancams

12. feeling: devious

13. yn’s downfall

14. hiatus

15. fav album?

16. cheer up baby

17. i wish you would

18. YNJI REUNITED!

19. moment of weakness

20. BALLS IN YO MOUTH

21. #featured

22. yo chat

23. downbad spiral

24. liam pain

25. honesty

26. god forbid

27. wsg dawg

28. unnie

29. jinnie

30. alpha side (half-written)

31. feral over you

32. insane rizz

33. forrealz

34. situationship OVER.

35. let’s go!

36. a question (half-written)

37. three months curse

38. ynji moments

39. ynji moments pt.2

BONUS. yn’s playlist

40. favourite idol

41. holy shit

42. just friends

43. yujin was right

BONUS. playlist #2

44. first wlw heartbreak

45. the 1

46. we got this

47. snooze by sza

48. triple texted

49. d/milf hunter

50. yes or yes?

51. good morning

52. hanni the therapist

53. happy birthday

54. letting go (half-written)

55. movie night

56. wonyoung’s talk (half-written)

57. sheldon the turtle

58. ure trippin

59. coquette core

60. attention (half-written)

TAGS ! @ky-yk @urmom2314 @nasyu-kookies @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @be0mluver @lesleepyyy @eunhhh @edamboon @sewiouslyz @haerinfangs @impossiblesharkcashrebel @mightymyo @dexthzone @pandafuriosa60 @haew0nz @dmndtears @awkwardtoafault @hyehae @sserajeans @haerinkisser @chaerybae @yukianism @urwyf3 @xxsplatashaxx @kimsgayness @manooffline @yerisdumbass @jeindall777 @jiwoneiric @justme-idle @imthisclosetokms (closed)

[hongcherry]

stuck with you || c.sc (m)

Your road trip takes a turn for the worst and leaves you stranded during a winter storm. It's not long until the car gets chilly, but luckily for you, your boyfriend has an idea to keep you both warm.

❄️ Pairing: boyfriend!Seungcheol x Reader (afab)

❄️ Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Smut, fluff; Established relationship

❄️ Warnings: Pet names (baby, baby girl, princess, angel), unprotective sex (dont be like them), fingering, breast play, creampie, dirty talk, car sex so technically exhibitionism, reader is slightly inexperienced/shy (not a virgin tho)

❄️ Word Count: 3.7k

❄️ Project: @k-vanity's event. Prompt is "snow day/snowed in".

❄️ Author's Note: Honestly, I'm not sure about this one aha. This was meant to be posted last holidays, but I never got it finished in time. Now, I rushed it to meet this deadline sdfk;bjfdlsk. So... Please be kind 🥲

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Your idea of a mini road trip was going well. You were sharing memories with your sweet boyfriend, who you had dragged with you, filled with laughs and a few forced smiles. Sure, Seungcheol was grumbling fifty percent of the time, but the other fifty percent was genuine happiness… Well, he slept for fifteen percent so that other fifty wasn’t accurate. Nevertheless, you weren’t going to let his party-pooping butt rain on your parade.

However, what did ruin your parade known as a road trip was when your car started to break down in the middle of a snowy night. Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol let a few expletives slip from his pout. His hand was wavering in different directions as he lectured the car for being “a complete waste of a fucking car.” You would have found it amusing if it weren’t for the fact you were about to be stranded in a deserted area.

“Hurry and call for a pickup before either of our phones dies,” Seungcheol instructs as the car begins to slow to a stop.

You oblige quickly, looking up a local towing company and giving them a call. Unfortunately, it’s going to take a couple of hours to arrive due to the bad weather. Seungcheol curses once more before locking the already-locked doors, yanking out the keys, and tossing them onto the dashboard.

“We should have stayed at the hotel one more night like I said,” he huffs with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring out into nothing. Both of you are sitting in the dark as you let the situation sink in. Guilt is forming in your chest.

“I just wanted to get to the next city by the morning so we could see the festival,” you mumble. Seungcheol knows this already, but you feel it necessary to explain again. You didn’t anticipate or wish for this to happen.

Hearing your dejected voice, Seungcheol’s body relaxes as he turns to look at you. “I know, baby,” he sighs.

“Let’s move to the back so that we can be more comfortable,” he suggests. You’re about to open the door when he stops you suddenly. “Climb in from here. We don’t want the cold air in.”

“Oh, right,” you say sheepishly. It’s warm now since the heater was on before the car shut off.

Carefully, you squeeze through the seats to sit in the back. Once you’re seated, Seungcheol follows suit. He reaches back into the trunk and digs out the blanket you had packed.

He pulls you into his lap, wrapping the blanket around you. You tuck the ends of it behind Seungcheol so he can hold it in place with his back.

“I’m sorry I made you feel bad,” he speaks softly with a deep exhale.

You shake your head. “You didn’t—”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he chuckles and rubs his hands up and down your clothed thighs. “I’m just tired and grumpy.”

“Hm,” you hum and give him a small smile. “You are tired and grumpy.”

“Tired and grumpy Seungcheol is sorry,” he says, lips pursing in a tiny pout and voice slightly higher.

Giggling, you hit his chest playfully. “You’re forgiven.”

“Good. I hate when my baby’s mad at me.”

“I wasn’t,” you reply. “Now, go to sleep, Cheollie,” you smile.

Seungcheol nods, bringing you down for a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around your body. You lean forward to lay against him. With the warm air, blanket, and his heated body, you’re feeling hot; however, you know the temperature is going to drop soon.

As expected, the car grows chilly within thirty minutes.

You wake from your slumber with a shiver. Seungcheol’s head is leaned against the headrest, breathing evenly as he sleeps. You reach up and softly graze his cheek. It’s cold under your touch. Frowning, you cup his face to heat his skin. He stirs for a second and then flutters his eyes open.

“Are they here?” he questions, referring to the towing people.

Shaking your head you say, “No, you were just cold.”

“I’m okay,” he replies even though his body shivers as soon as the words come out. “You’re cold?”

“A little,” you confess. You let your hands leave his cheeks and land on his shoulders gently.

Seungcheol’s eyes roam your face, taking in the occasional shakes of your body from the low temperature.

“I have an idea,” he replies belatedly.

“For?”

“To make you less cold.”

“Oh?”

You stare at him in confusion. You figure he’s going to grab the second blanket in the trunk, but instead, he grips your hips and slides your body against his crotch.

“Oh,” you gasp, face warming at the implication. “But we’re in public.”

Seungcheol shrugs. “In the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm. I doubt anyone is going to come this way.”

You hold his shoulders firmly when he rolls his hips under you. The action has him rubbing your clit briefly. You tighten your grip on him.

“The towing people,” you explain, trying not to focus on Seungcheol’s movements.

“You said they’d be here in a few hours. I don’t need a few hours to get you to cu—”

“Cheol!” you scold his language. Seungcheol just smiles. “I thought you wanted to get warm. Not… that.”

He clears his throat and stops grinding against you.

You bite your lip to suppress the whine that wants to come out. His actions had felt good, and you admit silently you were feeling warmer as your body became aroused.

“Right. I mean, I don’t need a few hours to get you warmed up,” he corrects innocently.

“I’m not sure,” you answer hesitantly. “Cuddling works too.”

You’re not too experienced—Seungcheol having been your first a few months ago—so having sex in such an exposed space feels like you’re skipping some imaginary steps.

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Then cuddles it is. Let me get the other blanket.”

Seungcheol moves to reach backwards. With his back no longer holding the blanket, it pools around the both of you. The cold air hits your body, causing you to shiver again. Even with the second blanket, you will only be warm for a little bit before the coldness consumes you again. You could say the same about what Seungcheol proposed, but at least you would have more fun.

You stare at him as he gathers both blankets and wraps them around you again.

“What?” he asks when he sees the flint in your eyes.

“M-maybe I’ve changed my mind,” you say a little nervously.

“Oh?” he wonders. “You don’t have to. I’m really okay with just cuddling.”

Your hands on his shoulders slowly slide down until they rest flat on his chest. You can feel his heart pumping quicker as the seconds tick by.

“I-I just don’t want to go to jail,” you say.

Seungcheol grins, rubbing up and down your arms to warm them. “Like I said, I don’t think anyone is going to catch us, and the snow will slow down the towing people. Plus, I’m sure Soonyoung and Seokmin will come bail us out.”

You huff at his last sentence. “Why them?”

“Because if they can’t do it the normal way, at least they can cause a big enough distraction so we can escape.”

“Babe,” you whine. You don’t like the thought of being a fugitive.

“Relax, angel,” Seungcheol chuckles. “It’ll be fine, but you don’t hav—Hmph!”

Not wanting to repeat the conversation, you lean forward as he’s talking and press your lips on his.

Seungcheol grips your arms in shock but soon eases his hold once he gets his bearings. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer until your arms fold against his chest from the close proximity.

With a surge of boldness, you wiggle your arms away and readjust to grab onto the seat behind him for leverage. He moans into the kiss when you start circling your hips against his.

“Just shut up and get me warm,” you mumble into the kiss.

Seungcheol smiles against your lips as he nods. His cold hands slip under your shirt to push your bra up. He doesn’t want to get you completely naked since it’s cold, so this will do.

You sigh softly when he gropes your breasts, massaging them gently. The contact heats your body blissfully.

He pulls away from the kiss to look at you. “Feeling better already?”

“A little,” you reply meekly.

Seungcheol gives one last squeeze to your breasts before pushing your shirt up. A gasp leaves your mouth when the cold air hits your bare torso. You try to pull the material down, but he keeps a firm grip on it.

“Kinda wanna press you against the window like this,” he murmurs.

“C-Cheol!” you scold.

“What?” he asks, suppressing his wicked grin.

“People will for sure see us then! Plus,” you begin to pout more, “it’ll be cold.”

“You’ll warm up when I start fucking that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your face heats at his vulgar words. You’re not used to people speaking in such a way, but you can’t deny the way your walls tighten in anticipation.

“Think about it,” he suggests, then leans down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples.

Your lips part at the sudden difference in temperature on your chest. Seungcheol’s warm mouth feels so good.

Your hands move to play with his hair, fingers tugging on the strands occasionally.

Seungcheol pulls you closer to him as his eyes flutter close. He’s licking and sucking your nipple like it’s his favorite way to pass time. The sight itself makes you moan.

You can feel Seungcheol’s bulge press against your core, which makes your arousal pool in your underwear more. Hesitantly, you start grinding your hips against him. Though when Seungcheol hums against your chest and pulls away with a soft pop, you stop moving. Your hands fall away from his hair to land on his shoulders.

“Don’t be shy, baby. Make yourself feel good,” he reassures, giving your lips a quick kiss for encouragement.

“I-Is this right?” you question, moving your hips again albeit a bit slower.

He grins. “Whatever makes you feel good is right. Do you feel good right now?”

“I—kinda.”

“Kinda? Is there something else you want?” he asks, carefully pulling your shirt down and cupping your face.

Your eyes dart away from his brown ones. It seems you used all your bold moves earlier.

Seungcheol begins to glide his thumb across your cheeks lovingly.

“Show me what you want,” he instructs gently and offers one of his hands.

You glance at it. Seungcheol has used this tactic several times in the past. It’s a way for you to take charge in your own way. It isn’t that he makes you uncomfortable, but it takes time to get used to things you’ve never experienced before.

You’re grateful Seungcheol is so understanding. Some of your exes became exes for being the opposite.

Taking his hand, you push it down until it rests against his crotch.

Seungcheol smiles. “My good girl just wants to get to the main course, hm?”

His light attitude lessens your nervousness.

“Need to feel you,” you murmur.

“I need to feel you too, baby girl,” he agrees and leans up to capture your lips.

You lax at the feeling of his plush lips, hands sliding down his arms to play with his shirt. Seungcheol eases your mouth open so he can slip his tongue inside as he grabs your wrists. He guides your hands under his shirt slowly. You feel his abs tense momentarily at the cool touch of your skin.

Once your hands are settled against his chest, he releases you. You take the opportunity to rub your hands along his torso, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles beneath your palms.

After a while, you finally pull away with a gasp.

“You give the best kisses,” Seungcheol compliments.

You grin. “I’ve gotten better?”

“You were never bad to begin with,” he chuckles. “But yes, you have improved.”

Your smile grows at his words.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he huffs as if it’s too much for him to bear.

“Now, we better hurry before help arrives,” he says and gently lays you back on the car seats.

The blankets get tangled, but Seungcheol pulls them away and leaves them on the floorboard. You supposed you don’t need them at the moment anyway.

Seungcheol nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and starts kissing your skin. His hands grab ahold of your sweatpants and pull them down. Before you can complain about the coldness, one of his hands slither between your legs to circle your clit.

“Gotta’ prep you a bit, okay? Then I’ll give you want, angel.”

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Seungcheol continues to pepper kisses against your neck, but you can tell his attention is elsewhere.

His fingers glide down and slip between your folds.

“I could slide in so easily right now with how wet you are,” he moans.

“T-then do it,” you say,

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Carefully, he slides one finger inside your dripping hole.

You bite your lip and remind yourself to relax.

Seungcheol stops kissing and simply rests his head against your shoulder. His eyes are closed as he pumps the single digit a few times before adding a second. You moan softly, legs spreading a little wider despite the small space.

“Doing okay?” he asks after a while.

“Yes,” you reply. “More, please.”

Seungcheol nods and slips in a third finger. However, not long after, he adds a fourth. He moves them slowly, not seeing the need to speed up when he’s saving that for later.

A gasp escapes at the stretch. It feels good, but each pump of his fingers makes you eager for his cock.

“Cheol,” you beg.

“Okay,” he says and removes his fingers. He brings them to his mouth and licks up your arousal. The lewd sight makes you want to look away, but you’re also mesmerized by how satisfied Seungcheol looks.

“When we get to the hotel, I’m going to eat you out for hours. You taste so fucking good,” he groans, then pushes his sweatpants down.

You turn your head and bite your lip. Seungcheol laughs and leans over you, arms caging you in.

“That a yes, princess?”

You peep at him and nod. “Yes.”

“That a girl,” he praises and pecks your lips.

“Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” he asks while aligning his tip to your entrance.

You nod, used to him saying that, but you know he means it.

Seungcheol waits for a second before easing inside. He slides in smoothly from how soaked you are. A small mewl comes from you. Although he prepped you, he’s still big and stretches you more than his fingers did.

As usual, the first few seconds are… indescribable. It doesn’t hurt as much, but you still need to get used to his size. The stretch is a mix of pleasure and pain—though the pleasure is more prominent.

“Oh, fuck,” Seungcheol curses while pushing more of his length inside.

“Feels good, Cheol,” you moan when he presses himself fully against you.

Seungcheol eyes flicker from where you’re connected to your eyes.

“Tell me when,” he instructs and rests his forehead on yours.

A minute ticks by until you tell him he can move. Seungcheol doesn’t waste another second and starts slowly gliding in and out of you. The sensation causes you to fill the car with your whimpers.

The coldness in the car seems to fade away with each thrust. The windows are fogging up and it’s getting a little stuffy; however, your focus is solely on Seungcheol’s cock rubbing against your walls heavenly.

His pace eventually increases as you relax more. He continues for some time until a certain sharp snap of his hips has you crying out.

“Shit, I—” Seungcheol begins to apologize.

“Again, Cheol. Please. Again.”

“A-are you sure? Did I hurt you?” he questions.

“No,” you beg with a cry. “Need that again.”

“Fuck, okay, baby,” he rasps.

Seungcheol pulls out most of the way then slams his hips forward. You gasp his name and clench around him. It’s a sight he wants to capture in his mind forever.

The heat in the car has increased and sweat beads are forming on both of your bodies.

You tug off your shirt and bra to get some air.

Seungcheol moans at the sight of your exposed breasts and moves a hand to grip one. He massages it in his hand and continues to snap his hips. He feels like he’s losing his mind slowly at how good you feel wrapped around him, but he wants to try something different.

“Come here, angel,” he huffs and pulls out.

Your lips dip down as you whine at the emptiness. Seungcheol coos at you, adjusting positions so he’s sat with you above him. He discarded both of your sweatpants fully in the process. He then guides his hard cock between your legs and slowly eases you down.

You moan loudly as your pussy gets filled once more. Your hands clutch his shoulders for stability and try not to get nervous at the new position. It’s not often you’re on top.

Sensing your worry, Seungcheol gives you a reassuring massage on your hips.

“I’ll guide you, okay?”

You nod.

Seungcheol smiles, lifting you until his tip remains then pushing you back down carefully.

Your eyes drift from his face to where you both connect. Seeing how his cock disappears makes you clench around him. The sight is arousing, and a sense of pride fills your chest seeing how much easier you can take him now.

Without realizing it, your hips begin to move. You start with the pace Seungcheol has set but gradually move faster. You become addicted to the feel of his cock against your walls and need to feel it more.

It’s not until your thighs start to burn that you slow in realization.

“Don’t slow down,” Seungcheol groans, eyes hooded as he rests his head back on the seat. “Fucking me so good, baby. I knew you could do it.”

“A-are you close?” you question, a little shy.

He hums while nodding.

“Keep moving,” he says, guiding your hips up and down. Seeing how fucked out he is spurs your movements to quicken. Eventually, Seungcheol’s hands relax on your body while he watches you bounce on his cock.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, eyes taking in your body above his. Your tits look so good and your pussy feels so tight.

Unable to stop himself, he grips your hips firmly and starts thrusting upwards.

You gasp, mouth hanging open as he chases his high. The sound of skin slapping skin feels loud in your ears, but part of you loves it. You love hearing and feeling how fast he’s sliding his cock in you. You love knowing you’re making him feel so good.

Seungcheol slams into your once more, a guttural groan escaping his mouth as his cum fills your insides. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts before he stills completely. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are shut as he floats back down.

You try not to move, but your orgasm is near, and you need a release.

Seungcheol’s eyes peel open after a few more seconds.

“You need help, angel?” he asks when he sees you trying not to squirm.

You pull your lower lip between your teeth and nod.

Seungcheol plants a kiss on your forehead, then adjusts your bodies. He leans against one of the doors while sitting you between his legs, back to his chest. He hooks one of your legs over his to spread you open. You’re so focused on Seungcheol that it doesn’t cross your mind how exposing the position is from the opposing window’s view.

Seungcheol runs his hands down your body, briefly squeezing your breasts before he slides them between your legs. He circles your clit with one hand and uses the other to slide into your dripping hole. He pumps his fingers a few times before pulling out to look at his hand.

His digits are covered with a mix of your arousal and his cum. The sight makes you squeeze your legs and for Seungcheol to moan deeply behind you.

“So messy just for me,” he murmurs, then plunges his fingers back into your cunt.

He moves both his hands quickly, bringing forth your impending orgasm.

“Play with your tits, baby,” Seungcheol rasps. “Don’t forget to make yourself feel good.”

You adhere to his request and bring your hands to squeeze your breasts. Your head falls back against his chest, moans spilling out of you nonstop as you pinch and fondle yourself while Seungcheol continues to circle and pump his fingers.

Seungcheol’s name falls from your mouth incoherently as you climax, your body slightly jerking in his hold as pleasure washes over your body.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he praises in your ear. His fingers still move quickly until he feels you start to relax.

Seungcheol angles your face so he can kiss you. He holds you close, one hand pressing against your tummy while the other keeps your head in place. The kiss is sloppy, but neither of you care.

“You still cold?” he teases after he pulls away.

“No,” you mumble, hiding your face from him.

He laughs and leans down to grab your clothes. “If you are, we can go another round.”

“M-maybe we should wait. The towing people should be here soon,” you say.

Seungcheol nudges you and mumbles, “Arms.”

You comply, lifting your arms slightly so he can put on your clothes. He kisses your shoulder blade after he’s done. You both slide on your sweatpants again, then cuddle once more.

About fifteen minutes pass when bright lights shine nearby.

The worker eyes you both—taking in the fogged windows and disheveled clothing. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Nevertheless, they say nothing and get started with trying to fix the vehicle.

Maybe the road trip didn’t go as planned, and maybe you’ll miss the festival, but at least you had some fun nonetheless.

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

taglist (tbh i forgot abt this but i will start doing it now! sorry!): @cheolcherries, @oncloudvii23, @mystikhal-blog, @lithelust, @doom-fics

[nocturnalcharm]

SWF Alphabet (Logan Howlett)

𐙚 cw: mention of sex briefly, cursing

𐙚 a/n: all of these are just my ~opinions~ so feel free to disagree w me lol also maybe a lil self indulgent so probs not v accurate to wolvie but its alr :,) NOT PROOFREAD

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

— doesn’t start out affectionate, but once you’ve got a deep connection, he becomes more affectionate. loves hugs and surprising you with gifts

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

— would start bc of the team obv. feel like he’d be the type of friend where,,, if you called him at 3am, for any reason, he’d be out of the house and otw to you at 3:01.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

— as much as i want to say yes.. like realistically no. bc nightmares and claws and trauma. but likeeee this is my blog bitch so yes hehe. he’s a big cuddle bug. def likes to be the big spoon but doesn’t mind being a lil spoon sometimes.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

— yes, he could see himself settling down but doesn’t rly care for getting married though, he just doesn’t see the point of it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

— (im crying) if he HAD to, i feel like he’d push it off and become more distant until you ask him what’s wrong, then he’d tell you everything. ookaY NEXT I DONT WANNA BE SAD

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

— i feel like he wouldn’t want to get married, not for a specific reason, just like doesn’t see the point. is committed to you though and if it was rly important to you, he would.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

— hA. physically yes very gentle unless ur having sex. emotionally………. nah. like if it’s a rly serious situation then yeah but he might not realize how serious something is until he’s already made an ass out of himself and then he’s like //oh shit i fucked up//

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

— heheh… yes. he hugs you all the time. literally always. coming up behind you while you’re cooking, or brushing your teeth and bear hugs you. he just likes touching you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

— oof. he takes awhile to say it. he def says it first though. but like.. awhile. probably like a year.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

— WHEWWWW I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. he’s very jealous. he says he’s not. but his actions show otherwise. like says he’s fine but can’t keep his hands off you (when he normally hates PDA) ugh i love it. just wants to show everyone you’re his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

— passionate. leaves you wanting more. he likes to kiss you allllll overrrr. he likes to be kissed on his neck. and his chest when you’re cuddling and he doesn’t have a shirt on. and lips but duh.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

— cautious, like kinda scared. especially around babies. doesn’t know how to handle them lol

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

— sleepy, cuddly mornings. staying in bed for as long as possible.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

— i like to think you two stay up late together. watching movies, cooking food at midnight, you two often fall asleep on the couch instead of the bed

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

— he doesn’t start getting rly personal until he knows you’re someone to trust, but it’d take awhile. he reveals things slowly.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

— unless you do something to really piss him off, which you wouldnt, i feel like he’d be chill (with u only obv, angry wolvie w everyone else)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

— sorry but like he remembers every detail you’ve told him. he comes home randomly with a specific candy bar you mentioned you like ONCE 2 years ago and is so proud of himself.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

— when he first said “i love you”. he was so vulnerable and scared honestly but everything was fine and you said it back!!

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

— VERY. VERY BITCH. he will cut a bitch to protect you. literally. ‘touch her and you die’ vibes.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

— i kinda feel like unless it’s something rly important, he wouldn’t put that much effort in but not bc he doesn’t care. bc you like to go over the top and plan out everything lol

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

— isn’t great at communication. prob bottles things up until he kinda blows up whoooops. he definitely tries but has a hard time opening up.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

— he cares, have u seen his lil tufts? isn’t obsessed but puts effort into his appearance. just wants to look good for you!!

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

— ummm yes. it takes a lot for him to open up & be comfortable around someone so if you just weren’t there anymore, for whatever reason, he would feel incomplete

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

— imagining him getting ready for date and he’s styling his lil tufts and ur waiting on him like ‘babe hurry we’re gonna be late!!’ and he’s just trying to perfect his hair so he looks good for you omg

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

— as a yapper this hurts to say but… if you talk too much i feel like it’d annoy him. just imaging you going on and on and on and in his head he’s like ‘get to the mf point ohmygoddddd’

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

— like i mentioned earlier, accidentally falling asleep on the couch lol. sorry but he snores and you have to shake him to make him stop

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

The Zenins want Megumi. Gojo isn’t having it.

wc — 1.7k

tags — one suggestive line after “those girls are better off without you” if you want to avoid it, set after 棠, part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together

Gojo’s been in the doghouse since last night. Not literally, obviously - though he might have preferred it if you were there with him, at least. He’d take anything over being kicked out of your shared bedroom and being forced to sleep on the couch. 

If you had it your way, you’d prolong his punishment, but you can’t. Not when, as he told you last night, the Zenins are coming today to wrest Megumi from your custody. 

Fat chance. 

You’d die before you let that happen. 

Gojo’s not too keen on either of those outcomes. For the first time in his life, he’s taking the pacifist’s route and talking it out, though you’re sure his version of talking involves more insults than most people’s. 

He thought about simply having it out with the elders, but it’s not worth it. Not when he has a plan for the future of Jujutsu Society. Not when he has you, Megumi, and Tsumiki. He’s playing the long game. He can’t afford to screw it up now. 

Being a family man really has ruined him. 

Zenin Keiko is a tall woman with a severe black bob and the characteristic Zenin look of perpetual contempt. She’s Naoya’s cousin, alright. 

“Twice-removed,” Gojo whispers to you. “Or illegitimate. Something like that, I can’t remember.” 

“Shut up,” you whisper back out of the corner of your mouth. “She’s going to hear you.” 

Welcoming a Zenin into your home feels like blasphemy, though you suppose Gojo is the closest thing Jujutsu society has to a god. 

Gojo’s unimpressed by her, mostly because he feels like the Zenins are mocking him. It’s not like anyone can take him on, but to send someone who has no battle capabilities feels like an insult.  

Keiko is an auxiliary manager with no cursed technique to speak of besides a weak barrier. It’s a wonder she has the nerve to speak to Gojo. The Zenins truly did not care about her if they sent her as the proxy to undermine your roles as the Fushiguro children’s guardians. In fact, you suspect that’s the precise reason she was chosen - because she’s expendable. 

Keiko, to her credit, shows no sign of fear. 

“I’d like to meet the children, Mr. Gojo. It’ll give me a good grasp of what the situation is.” 

“Hell no,” Gojo outright laughs in her face. “I’m not letting a Zenin near my brats. Your-“

“Gojo.” You squeeze his knee. Cooperate. 

“I’ll go get them,” he says begrudgingly.

The two of you sandwich the children between you on the couch. Tsumiki sits on Gojo’s left. Megumi sits on your right. That way, the two that are most likely to fight are separated. It’s a strategized united front. 

“Megumi, do you like your guardians? Do you like staying here?” 

Megumi looks at you. You smile at him encouragingly - and there Keiko goes, scribbling away in her notebook. She’s probably saying something about how Megumi is so scared of you he won’t answer the question unless you give him permission. 

“Are you sure? Forgive me, but Gojo seems a little…immature for a parent.” 

A direct attack right out of the gates. Gojo objects to this very accurate assessment of his character. 

“He’s fine, I guess,” Megumi says. There’s more scribbling. You’re starting to hate the sound of pen on paper. “I like-“ 

He looks at you. There’s a tiny blush on his cheeks, just the faintest hint of red. More quietly, he says, “It’s fine, cause she takes care of us.” 

Gojo stares at him, slack-jawed. “Are you kidding me? You are one ungrateful brat. Who found you? Who took you in?” 

Tsumiki chimes in, “We like Gojo a lot too! He’s fun.” 

Keiko ignores her completely, focusing on Megumi instead. Your distaste for her grows. 

“Would you say that Gojo has an active role in taking care of you?” 

“Why aren’t you asking Tsumiki anything?” Megumi interrupts. “Her opinion’s important too.” 

Keiko gives him a strained smile. Gojo reaches behind Tsumiki on the couch to ruffle Megumi’s hair. He only tolerates this for five seconds before he shakes his head to get him off. 

“He loves me,” Gojo says. 

“I have Stockholm syndrome,” Megumi says. ‘Help,’ he mouthes. 

“He’s joking,” Tsumiki says nervously.

You’ve given up on making them behave. It’s just not happening. 

Keiko seems to have given up too. Rather than continue prodding Megumi, she turns to Gojo. 

“How often are you home?”

“Basically every day,” Gojo lies. He does try his best, but it’s more like every other day. Such is the fate of the strongest sorcerer. 

“Don’t want my baby all alone, poor little thing.” 

He catches your look and cackles. “No, the other one. My other baby,” and the kiss he presses to your knuckles is so tender it melts your heart. 

Keiko makes an uncomfortable expression. “Please try to stay focused, Mr. Gojo.” 

Megumi gags loudly. Tsumiki pinches his arm to get him to shut up and he yelps. Keiko narrows her eyes and makes another note. 

“I understand how Gojo might take responsibility for the children,” Keiko says, directing her attention to you, “but how did you come into the picture. Are you a girlfriend-“

“Wife,” Gojo interjects. 

Keiko’s entire body does an approximation of what it would look if a human had a screenshot function. 

“Aren’t you children?”

You don’t like Keiko at all, but you respect the balls it takes to talk to Gojo like that. All the Zenins seem to have that death wish of wanting to mouth off to the strongest. Maybe it’s a genetic thing. 

Gojo shrugs. “If I’m old enough for the missions you send me on, I’m old enough to take care of kids, right? How hard can it be?”

You pinch his thigh. “Gojo.” 

“What? It is easy. You just give them a bunch of lollipops and call it a day.” 

Keiko’s writing is now background noise to you. “Are you still doing that? I told you-“

“It’s fine! All kids need sugar to grow. I had a sweet tooth when I was their age.”

“And that’s probably the reason why you still have one now! Except it’s rotting your teeth-“

“It’s not-“

“It is!”

“Don’t be so uptight!”

“How does it look if I’m always saying no to him and you’re always saying yes? It isn’t fair, Satoru. Parenting has to be a team effort.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about you playing good cop, bad cop with him!” 

“Have you gone insane? We went over this! He likes you more than me! There is no good cop, bad cop when he just takes your side every single time.” 

“Excuse me,” Keiko says. She’s somehow managed to look a complex combination of perplexed, annoyed, and satisfied. “Please take care of your lovers’ tiffs outside of this interview. I will say that this doesn’t seem like an environment particularly conducive to raising children, however.” 

“What do you know?” Gojo says rudely. “The only reason you’re even doing this interview is because I’m letting you.” 

Normally, you would tell him off, but in front of the Zenins? You’re a united front. You place a hand on his forearm and look down your nose at the woman in front of you as best as you can when she’s taller than most people you meet. 

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you say. 

“You agreed to an interview,” she says. 

“An interview, not an inquisition.”

“You can’t refuse a request from the elders without consequences,” she says, as patiently as she would speak to a child. It’s condescending. 

“Are you threatening my wife?” 

When you look to your side, Gojo’s face is shadowed. His eyes are storm dark and frightening. Keiko can’t hide her visceral reaction. 

She forgets her coat on her way out, she’s in such a hurry to leave. Gojo takes it and disappears. 

While he’s away, you let Megumi and Tsumiki return to their rooms. They’re muttering amongst themselves, but you don’t pry. Children need their space, too. You’ll talk to them about it later. 

He’s back within a minute. 

“What did you do with it?” You’re bracing yourself for the answer. 

“I just sent a message,” he says, as cheerily as if nothing had happened. “Think we passed that?” 

“Gojo, I think that’s the first test you’ve ever failed. Did you see the way she was writing during the last twenty minutes? And Megumi and Tsumiki! Every time they said something, she made a face!” 

Gojo shrugs, still so certain of his place in the hierarchy. One day, the elders will get tired of him throwing his weight around like Jujutsu’s one and only tyrant, but not someday soon if they want to keep their heads. 

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m not going to make Megumi and Tsumiki act like repressed little puppet children just so that they can find some way to snipe them out from under us anyways. Who knows, maybe we’ll teach the Zenins a thing or two about healthy child raising. I hear they have two girls now. One of them has no cursed energy. Should we kidnap some more children?” 

“Like you know anything about healthy parenting,” you snark. “Those girls are better off without you.” 

“Does being mean to me get you off or something?” 

“Do you want to find out?” 

“I would love to,” he purrs, sliding a hand under your shirt just so slightly so his nails prick at your lower stomach. You grab his wrist. 

“Sorry,” you say, your stomach churning at the joke gone wrong. “I can’t.”

He stops immediately. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just- They want Megumi badly enough to go to the higher ups. I know what they do to their children. I can’t let him go there, Satoru. I can’t.” 

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I can’t stop thinking about those girls.”

“Come here,” he says. 

You lean closer to him. He lifts his arm so easily, without thinking. When you slide under it, you fit into him perfectly. 

Now that you’re safely tucked under his arm, you feel sheltered from anything that could happen.  “I don’t want to give the kids to the Zenins. They’re monsters. And they would make monsters out of them.” 

“That’s only if they take them away,” Gojo says, his smile fanged and vicious. 

“And if they do?”

“I hope they try.”

You trust him. 

You know he’ll keep his word. If Gojo says Megumi and Tsumiki won’t be going to the Zenins as long as he’s alive, then they won’t be going at all. 

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

Kiss Me ♡ Sam Winchester

Pairing: Sam winchester x reader

Warnings: no use of y/n, I'm very dyslexic so idk witch which is witch, not proof read, I wrote this in an hour? Help, kiss, idk what else to put, this may not make sense but I just needed to write something and all my wips bored me so ✨️tada✨️

Summary: a witch cursed Sam to only awake with a true loves kiss, so naturally Dean calls you, the only problem is you haven't seen the Winchesters in 5 years.

You swore that you would never see the Winchesters again.

That was the only thing that you promised yourself. The one rule you could never break.

As a hunter you don't get a lot of garentees in life, you get close to zero, but this was your one none negotiable rule and everyone knew that.

Which is why you were cursing yourself as you drove down the highway, going at a very illegal speed trying to get to the winchesters as fast as possible.

Or more accurately to one spefic Winchester in particular.

Sam Winchester.

Dean had called you not even an hour ago, you hadn't picked up the fist 5 times, but on the 6th ring you figured it must be important.

He wasn't making alot of sense, but one thing was clear, Sam was in trouble and he needed you.

The winchesters being in trouble wasn't anything new, in fact it was the norm, but this seemed diffrent, it had to be diffrent otherwise you wouldn't have been called. Dean never called you even when you worked together, it was always sam. You and Dean didn't realy get along, it's not that you hated eachother, but you were both weary of eachother. And both of your concerns arose form the same factor, Sam. It was a safe assumption to say that you both cared for Sam, but unfortunately that ment that you often clashed.

But that's all in the past. Because you hadn't spoken to them in years. You hadn't seen Dean or Sam in 5 years. Yet here you were knocking on the door to the address of a motel that Dean frantically gave you over the phone.

"Hi-" you awkwardly began to sat as Dean opened the door, but you were quickly cut off.

"This is going to sound insane but right now I don’t have time to explain." Dean began, as he basically dragged you inside to where Sam lay unconscious on one of the cheap motel beds.

"Can you just kiss him?" Dean bluntly asked looking you in the eyes.

You were completely taken back by the forwardness of his request.

"What?" You muttered, glancing quickly to Sam, laying almost lifeless on the bed. He looked bad. You wouldn't have known he was alive if his chest didn't fall up and down ever so slightly.

As if reading your mind dean began to speak again. "And quickly as he might actually die soon."

"Sorry I'm a bit confused, why-" you began but were quickly cut off again.

"A witch, obsessed with fairy tales, cursed him like sleeping beauty or some princess shit and I thought killing the bitch would end the curse I was wrong so you need to kiss him."

Your head wad spinning. If it was sleeping beauty then that ment that...

That couldn't be true, could it?

No that made no sense you hadn't seen the younger of the brothers in 5 years. He was probably so diffrent. He could have lost his boyish smile. Or his perfect hair. Or his humour. Or-

"That doesn't explain why I specifically-" you began, but just as before you were cut off by Dean.

"Cut the bullshit, and just kiss him. I can waste time explaining but sammy is dieing, please. I just know that this will work, it has to, you look at him like I look-" he stopped himself, sighing almost lost in thought. "It doesn't matter just kiss him goddammit!" He practically shouted.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "just hurry up, I'll be outside."

With that he turned his back and slayed the motel door behind him as he left.

He left you alone with Sam.

Sam.

He looked terrible. He looked dead. It broke your heart. You could have stopped this. If you had just been there. If you'd had stayed....

No. You couldn't have.

You and Sam said things to eachother that you should have never said, and it ended up with you waking up in his bed. And you couldn't do that. Neither of you could. So you had to leave. And that's exactly what you did.

And that's when your rule stared. You told Bobby to never put you on a hunt with them or you wouldn't show.

Your rule spread like wild fire and soon it was a common known fact that you didn't hunt with the winchesters. No one knew why, but no one questioned it, especially given the winchesters track record.

Yet here you are, 5 years down the line, breaking your one rule.

You walked over to the edge of the bed to where Sam lay.

"I'm so sorry." You whispered. You didn't know exactly what you apologising for. Kissing Sam or for everything before this moment.

Closing your eyes you tentatively leaned forward and gently pressed your lips to his for a brief second before pulling away.

He didn't move.

No, no, no no. This couldn't be happening.

You reached to grab his hand, waeving your fingers between his.

"Come on Sam, please wake up." You pleaded as tears began to fill your eyes. How could you be so stupid? You left hom for 5 years, he could have been dead for that whole time and you would have had no idea.

"Please..." you sobbed as you rested your head on his chest.

You felt numb. It felt like you had just been stabbed in the chest and someone kept twisting the knife.

Gently a hand started stroking your hair.

Your head jolted up.

There he was, eyes open, a small smile on his lips.

"Hi love," he bearly whispered, half confused half over joyed.

"Sam!" You cried and you flung your arms round his neck, "you scared me you son of a bitch."

"What are you...?" He began but trailed off.

"Dean called." You answered, quickly remembering the whole situation, pulling shyly away from Sam.

"You came?" He sounded shocked.

"You needed my help."

"I thought-"

"Yeah you made me break my one rule Sam so...?"

A silence fell over the pair of you. You couldn't look him in the eyes. God you felt awkward.

"It was a pretty crap rule." He mumbled, looking directly at you, a half smile playing on his lips.

"I had good reason for it I mean-" you began.

"You ran away beacsue you were scared." He said matter of fact way, his eyes showing his hurt.

"I hunt monsters for a living I doubt that I was scared of some feelings, they're hardly spooky." You laughed. It was painfully obviously forced.

"So why did you leave then?"

You couldn't answer his question. He was right. You were scared. Scared of what you felt for him. And back then it felt like a valid reason. But right now, you felt stupid.

"You know what the curse was don't you?" He asked.

"Sam I-"

"It was the cliche of a true loves kiss. The witch said it didn't exist so I was destined to die."

You stayed silent, you couldn't look at him. You knew what it ment. You both did.

"Yet here I am, here you are." He said as though he was proving evidence in court. You were evidence of true love. After 5 years of not seeing eachother, you both still were irrevocably in love with one another. It was true love.

"Here I am." You agreed, finally meeting his eyes. "So now what?" You asked tentatively.

You were both quiet then. His smile only grew as he leaned closer to you.

"I think it's time you got rid of your stupid rule." He whispered in your ear.

"Why should I do that?" You pulled away, a matching smile on your face.

His smile softened as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"So that way I can wake up with you beside me, instead of you just living inside my dreams. So I can hold on to you instead of just our memories. So you can kiss me all the time and not just beacsue I'm dieing."

"That does seem like a valid reason, you got anymore?"

"Because I know, even after 5 years, you still feel the same way I do"

"And what's that?"

"I love you."

You were only inches away from his face now. You could feel his breath on your skin. He leaned on closer pressing his lips to yours.

His lips felt so familiar it almost hurt. It felt right. This is where you needed to be, this is where you should have been for five whole years.

You let yourself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against your spine, drawing you impossibly closer.

His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed as he deemed the kiss, your hands finding their way into his hair.

You didn't want to stop,you couldn't, and judging by Sam's reaction to your touch he couldn't either.

"Have you-?" Neither of you hear the door to the motel open as Dean basically ran in. "Oh jesus my eyes, sammy I'm glad you're okay but fucking hell!" He quickly truned on his heels, overdramtically covering his eyes. "Use protection!" He shouted just before he closed the door, muttering under his breath 'these darm kids' as though he were a middle aged man.

You and Sam just looked at eachother for a singular moment before bursting into laughter.

"I might ammend my rule slightly..." you said after a few deep breaths.

"How so?" He asked leaning in closer to you once more.

"I now swear that I'll see the winchesters everyday, or at least one spefic Winchester everyday."