#why do i always write long smuts smh

[vanilladove]

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ sinful angel

gif creds the-chikyuu-times

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ pairing: hacker!fyodor x camgirl!reader

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ genre: smut w/ plot; 18+ only mdni!!!!!!

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ content warnings: light bsd manga spoilers, dubious consent + manipulation, sexwork mentions, sex toy use, slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, some degrading (+ lots of praise to balance it out)

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ summary: you've caught the eye of cybercriminal fyodor dostoevsky, who regards you as his sweet angel. watching you isn't enough to satisfy the lurking demon, who wants nothing but to corrupt you. translation notes: "milaya" = sweetheart, "shlyukha" = whore

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ word count: 5.7k

Fyodor sighed in annoyance, running his hands through his dark hair as he looked at all the computer screens in front of him. He was tracking down an arms dealer that was nothing but a pawn ready to be disposed of. The monitor displayed footage from the dealer's apartment, and showed him standing in the lobby making a phone call.

By the way he was hurriedly whispering, Fyodor could tell he was trying to be discreet. It was useless. The dealer was too occupied trying to hide his words from the security guard that he didn't even realize Fyodor had hacked into his phone and was listening in on the whole conversation. It had already been thirty minutes, and the hacker felt restless, waiting for the stupid pawn to just go back to his room and find the sweet gift awaiting him—another henchman ready to shoot him dead.

The dark haired man anxiously bit his fingernail until he heard something—no, it must've been the voice of an angel—through the recording of the dealer's phone conversation. His eyes narrowed onto the source of the voice from the screen.

There you stood, wearing a pastel pink and white lacy top, white cotton maxi skirt, white flats, and a ribbon in your flowing hair. You sweetly greeted the security guard, giving them a fresh pastry that you'd presumedly just bought. Your saccharine voice and mannerisms struck Fyodor's cold heart, snapping him out of his boredom. A precious anomaly in a world of pawns and subordinates, an angel.

His magenta eyes followed your movements towards the elevator, and his fingers instinctively typed in code to display the elevator's camera feed onto a different monitor, noting your floor number and the room number transcribed onto your keys. Pulling up another set of cameras for your floor's hallway and your attached balcony, Fyodor watched as you entered your unit and set your bag down on the dining table, pulling out a strawberry custard tart and going to the kitchen to pull out a mug and a teabag. He smiled, watching you brew his favorite blend of black tea and pulling out your laptop to find a show to watch while enjoying your midday treat. In his eyes, you were a woman of fine taste. An elegant lady that held herself to the highest standards of purity and grace. Your apartment was clean, with the right amount of cute, feminine touches and white lace everywhere. Truly a sight for sore eyes, and the perfect relief for an overworked criminal mastermind like himself.

The dealer's phone call suddenly ending interrupted Fyodor's daydreams as he turned his back to the screen showing you and watched the dealer take the elevator. He guessed it would take forty-five minutes or so to get the job done and cover all the tracks of the murder. After that, he promised his attention would be on you again.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Fyodor Dostoevsky was a lonely man. Throughout his many lifetimes, he'd never sought out a companion, nor did he necessarily have the desire to. More and more, he found himself displeased by the new generations of sinners, unimpressed by virtually everyone. He didn't care much for consuming media, but for some reason he had a strong urge to watch the movie with you. Judging your character, he was sure you were watching some cheesy rom-com or a soapy drama. He was intrigued and bewitched by you and your sweet nature, which was why he couldn't help hacking into your laptop to see what you were watching, planning a 'movie-date' of sorts in his mind.

What he wasn't expecting to see was you spread open, in white lace lingerie and stockings, touching yourself.

Fuck, were you recording yourself?

His eyes widened, watching your manicured nails circle around your glossy clit, panting as you ran your fingers up and down your opening. Your thin panties were pulled to the side, leaving your bare cunt on display, slick dripping down. You whined and bucked your hips as you slipped two fingers inside, whining from the stretch.

"A-ahh, f-fuck—" You whimpered, your arousal leaking more from the pressure of your movements. You were moaning louder now, your other hand coming underneath your knee to expose your stocking and give a better view to the camera.

"Mmm—I'm gonna cum—make sure to watch, 'kay?"

Fyodor watched in utter shock as he witnessed you in a complete state of lustful pleasure. His angelic fixation was actually nothing more than a sinful temptress, a camgirl. As disappointed as he wanted to be, he couldn't ignore the strain against his pants. Seeing your blissful state, the bunched up lace, and listening to your sweet voice was enough to make him painfully hard for you.

With a groan, he leaned back into his padded chair, freeing his pulsing cock and tightly stroking up and down his length, eyes squinting yet open so he could still see your sensual body on the monitor screen.

He shamefully squeezed his leaking tip, trying to time his movements with your soft moans. Fyodor carefully trained his gaze on your pussy, closely watching your arousal drip down your slit, and how you gradually squeezed your thigh harder for relief.

You suddenly popped your fingers out and rubbed fast around your now swollen clit, body moving slightly as you heaved your chest from the feeling. You were practically whimpering at this point, close to finishing. Fyodor stroked faster to match your neediness, starting to buck his hips into his hand. His face was surely flushed a rosy pink by now, matching the color of his darkened tip.

“C-cumming—guys, I’m cumming—” You jerked up slightly, fingers leaving your clit to lightly spread your folds as your cum dripped out of your loosened hole, dampening the fuzzy white blanket below you. Your legs were shaking a bit as the orgasm washed over you, but Fyodor’s eyes widened again after you slowly wiped the excess cum around the outside of your pussy and the crevices between your thighs, leaving your skin glossy and shiny. You giggled sweetly, causing more blood to rush straight to his hard cock.

“Ahh, I kinda made a mess, didn’t I?! Let’s try this one next~!” You slowly pulled out a pink dildo, kissing the tip of it loudly and carefully rubbing it around your slit to lubricate it with your juices, gasping anytime it hit a sensitive spot.

God, you vixen. You knew what you were doing.

The hacker couldn’t resist, sweat starting to bead at his forehead as his breath got thicker in the air, cock feeling heavier and tighter while watching you tease yourself with the sex toy. He couldn’t help but wish it was his cock instead of that fake dildo that was slipping in and out of his pretty angel’s cunt as he fucked up into his fist more intensely. Borderline growls left his lips as he tried to chase his own release, which he cursed himself for since it wasn’t coming out fast enough.

As your own moans got louder and more broken, Fyodor could feel himself getting equally as lost into his own delusions, trying to satiate the long suppressed lustful desires. One orgasm wasn’t enough, he needed—no, craved—more, and long after your stream had ended, he couldn’t hold himself back from exploring your page, going through your different videos with one hand stroking his unsatisfied dick.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Catching his breath, Fyodor cleaned himself off afterwards, feeling ashamed yet incredibly turned on from his actions. It was probably the hardest he’d came in a long time. As much as he wanted to continue to obsess over you, he was rudely interrupted by Nikolai barging into his space. Fyodor turned his chair immediately and glared at the white-haired jester.

Nikolai smirked mischievously, “What the hell, Dos, you watchin’ porn or something?” He taunted, causing Fyodor to scowl and throw his dirty napkins at him, which Nikolai swiftly avoided.

“None of your business…and knock before you enter my room.”

Fyodor gritted his teeth. Was it his own noisy groans or the audio of your moans playing out loud that Nikolai could hear? He secretly hoped it was the former since he didn’t want anyone else hearing his angel’s precious voice, especially not in such a lewd state.

“Well whatever, I was just letting you know that I killed and disposed of the dealer, so I expect my payment.” Nikolai waved his hands dismissively before pausing, tilting his head in a coy manner before grinning at Fyodor again, “By the way, if she’s a cam girl, you can usually tip her if you want a more personal interaction.”

Fyodor narrowed his eyes again, throwing more badly-aimed tissues at Nikolai. “Get. Out.” He threatened sternly, sick of Nikolai’s antics. The jester didn’t care, only laughing pridefully and singing “Dos likes a girlllll~” before leaving.

After waiting for his footsteps to disappear, Fyodor pulled up your account again. Coincidentally, you went by the alias of “angel” and dedicated your whole page to a soft, lacy aesthetic, becoming the perfect sinful object of desire for your subscribers. He found the paid chat and calls for your account, and swiftly made an encrypted account to send you a message, noticing you were still online.

demonfyo: My angel, how are you? Your beauty has entranced me, and it’s all I can think about…

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: hiiiiiiiii~♡ oh, how you flatter me demonfyo, i’m blushing (￣▽￣;) i’m feeling very playful atm hehe what abt you?

demonfyo: I’ve been trying to pray and repent all night, but I can’t get your pretty pussy and voice out of my thoughts.

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: sounds like my charm is working hehe ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა i'm happy i could help you get off lots ♡

demonfyo: Can you bless me with a short call, darling? I need you.

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: yesyes! do you want to do a video call? ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

demonfyo: No, I just want to hear your sweet voice for a bit before I go to bed. Is that alright?

The incoming message notification sent your heart racing. Somehow, the new user had caught your attention. Swinging your legs cutely on your soft sheets, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about the mysterious sender. Typically, those who paid for messages got straight to the point, often explicitly stating their feelings towards you with no filter or immediately requesting a personalized video call. Seeing someone address you so adoringly certainly pulled on your heartstrings a bit, and the mystery behind what the new sender wanted was making you excited. You pressed the call button, anticipating the voice on the other side.

You cleared your throat, "Hihi, This is Angel~! Is this demonfy—"

"Fyodor. Call me Fyodor, angel". Your mysterious caller's deep, husky voice startled you. From the way he was messaging you, you half expected it to be some horny old man, but the man calling you sounded attractive. Fuck, you were getting a little turned on—thanks to your secret voice kink.

Of course, your small reactions didn't go unnoticed by Fyodor, who was intently watching you on his monitor. He smirked pridefully after seeing the rose on your cheeks and the way you slowly clenched your thighs together from hearing his voice.

"F-Fyodor. Umm, h-hi. Was there anything you wanted to talk about?" You quickly tried to regain some composure, nervous about talking to someone desirable, not just the usual degenerate. It didn't fool Fyodor, though, who you could hear sneering on the other side. You bit your lip—even his laugh was hot.

Fyodor spoke slowly, "Stuttering, huh...Do I make you nervous, milaya?" Your breath hitched, which he caught again. You were too fun to tease. "You're not used to being intimate with other men? Even though you're a camgirl?"

"N-no, it's not that...I'm just not used to non-sexual conversations." You huffed, trying to sound less flustered, "And I don't get intimate with other men; it's just me in front if the camera. N-not that I'd be opposed to having a special guest though—!"

He smiled at that, noting how hot and bothered you were getting, "Would you do it with me, then? I could make you feel better than that cheap pink dildo."

"W-what?!" You quickly shot out, gripping the sheets for balance, drawing another mocking laugh from Fyodor, which made you instantly regret it. Pull yourself together, girl! Maybe he's trying to roleplay!

"Yes, I would,” you muttered, trying to recover your confidence and add a flirty tone to your voice, “Would you whisper dirty things in my ear?”

Fyodor tilted his head, watching you bite your lip before whispering sweetly into the microphone, “Only if you begged me to, my sweet girl. You like my voice that much?”

“Maybe~” You teased, starting to feel tension build up again in your core. You lightly moved across your sheets, trying to relieve some of your pent-up arousal—even though you knew it wouldn’t be enough. Fyodor sighed watching you sink further into your bed, eyes starting to gloss over.

“Touch yourself and dream of me tonight, and it might happen,” your caller whispered, admiring you through the screen and smiling when you gasped and gripped the sheets tighter. “Sweet dreams, my pretty angel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He whispered the last part to himself and ended the call before you could even process what he said or respond, making you double back at the empty screen.

You pouted, already missing Fyodor’s voice, but that didn’t take your attention away from how wet you were. Even your fatigue couldn’t stop your heartbeat, and you hastily opened your drawer of toys and reached for a baby pink vibrator, silently cursing yourself for being so horny and cursing your caller for leaving you hanging. You laid back in your bed, pulling aside your shorts as you covered you eyes in shame. No one had ever had this much of an effect on you. Imagining Fyodor’s sultry voice, you turned on the toy and moved it downwards, unaware of the violet eyes trained on you and following every movement and sound.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

You closed your laptop and stretched after editing some videos to tease your fans with. It was raining hard outside, ruining your plans to go out and get your usual strawberry tart. Sighing and opening your fridge, you thought about what to make for dinner.

You settled on pasta and grabbed a pot, filling it with water and turning on the stove. You went to grab some noodles before turning around and realizing the stove wasn’t turning on. Confused, you tried pushing the buttons on your oven and microwave, but they weren’t responding. A power outage? Strange, but at least your internet was still working. You really needed to call maintenance, but it could wait. You instead opened a food delivery app, ordering some vodka pasta and tiramisu and laying down annoyedly on your couch, drinking some rosé that you poured for yourself. Resting for about 20 minutes, a knock on your door woke you up.

A bit buzzed, you walked to the door and opened it to see your delivery person. He had shoulder length dark hair and a big hat was covering his face.

“Thanks!” You said sweetly, grabbing the paper bag from the man. He nodded slowly and you noticed the drops of water beading off the front strands of his hair. Oh, right, it was pouring outside. “U-Um, wait! Before you go, let me grab you a towel and some tip money. I feel kinda bad about the weather.” You tried to offer some sympathy and set your food on your dining table before going into your room to fish out some extra change from your wallet. Rushing back to the door, you were surprised to see that the delivery man was gone, and your door was now shut.

“Where did he go?” Muttering under your breath, you opened the door to look out into the hallway before sighing and closing the door. Maybe he was in a rush…at least you got to keep your money…

Your eyes widened right after closing the door, though, and a shiver ran down your spine as you felt warm air against your ear, “Hello, my angel.” You shrieked as you whipped around to see the same delivery man without his hat and a pair of glowing purple eyes staring back at you menacingly.

Alarmed, you tried to open the door and scream loudly for help, but the dark-haired man pulled your body against him and put a hand to your mouth, the other pulling you in and and resting on your back. “Why so scared, milaya? Didn’t you want to see me last night?” You yelped instinctively as you recognized the husky voice, which made you turn cold.

Fyodor.

“F-Fyodor! W-What are you doing here?!” You tried to back up, but he followed you, still holding you tightly as your back hit the door. He only grinned evilly, eyes low and mentally undressing you—not that your floral lace set was hiding anything, especially since you were bra-less and only had a skimpy white thong on. His hot breath fanned over your face as you took him in. He was much taller than you with a relatively thin frame, and his voice matched his ghostly, handsome appearance—like the attractive villain in a movie. But his touch was cold, so cold.

“You’re so beautiful, angel, yes, much more in person,” he whispered lowly, dragging his lips down from your ear to your jaw, “I’ve always taken a liking to pretty people, and you, milaya, are no exception.” You were shaking, fearful of his intentions—it was no secret that people into your work were suspicious. He looked up at you with an almost predator-like expression. “I’m going to move my hand. If you know what’s good for you, don’t scream. Understand?”

He was taunting you, but you were to afraid to fight back, and you nodded slowly in compliance, earning a cunning smile from him as well as a peck on your forehead as he moved his hands away from your mouth to slowly caress your cheeks. Your mouth was sealed shut from fear. “Good girl…I’m going to reward you now.” He whispered slowly before moving his head down to capture your lips in a slow kiss. You tried to keep your eyes open, but they closed upon feeling his soft touch.

Despite intruding into your apartment and forcing himself on you, he kissed you sensually, like a lover. Your hands pressed against his chest, but as he slipped his tongue in your mouth, your hands went to tangle in his long hair, still slightly damp from the rain, drawing a low groan from him. His knee came in between your leg, and the sudden pressure made you moan into the kiss, the shock causing you to break away from him and pant to catch your breath. You cursed your face for betraying you—your cheeks felt hot and you were sure you were blushing like crazy. Not to mention the fact that you could feel your nipples hardening beneath your long sleeve top.

As much as you wanted to blame your body’s reactions on the rosé you were drinking earlier, a part of you knew it was because of his voice, which you’d been fantasizing about since the call. Not to mention, being a cam girl made you turned on by the thought of your caller visiting you. As ashamed as you were, you knew Fyodor was enjoying every bit of your internal struggle, the sly smirk still on his face as he felt your heat on his clothed thigh. He quickly went to your neck, nipping and kissing your sensitive skin, somehow knowing where your sweet spots were and leaving light hickeys, making you whimper every time. His leg simultaneously grinded against your cunt, weakening the little balance you had left. You were starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy, wrapping your arms around Fyodor’s shoulders and playing with his hair.

Before pulling away and lowering his leg, he gently kissed over your hickeys along with the tears starting to prick your needy eyes. “Fyodor…” You started quietly, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact. He gave you a soft smile before tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear. You looked so cute gripping onto his shirt for what seemed like dear life, too flustered to even look up. How easily his pretty vixen fell apart for him.

“Yes, my angel?” He responded, still gazing at your face affectionately, like he was deeply devoted to you.

“Can we…” You trailed off, not sure what to say since your heart, head, and arousal were all screaming different things at you. Fyodor stroked your face with his knuckles slowly, enjoying how fragile you were under him, how corrupted your mind became. His questioning deep hum vibrated through your body, making you shiver and hold your breath.

The demon had captivated his innocent angel, bringing out her most sinful desires and conjuring the unholy courtesan that she really was. “C-can you fuck me? Please, Fyodor, I want you—“ You begged, forcing your doe eyes to look into his piercing orbs. His lips twisted upwards, and he slowly stepped back from you, turning you around and leading you backwards to your nearby plush couch, encouraging you to continue.

“I dreamt of you last night after our call, but it wasn’t enough. I tried so many toys, but I really wanted you…” You whined, making Fyodor push you back faster. “I kept thinking about how good your dick would feel inside of me, and the things you would say to me. What kind of things do you lik—“ Your rambling was cut off by your legs hitting the edge of the couch, and Fyodor swiftly pulling you seated into his lap, your back hitting his lean chest.

He seemed to be satisfied with your pleas, not pushing you for anymore and driving you into an embarrassing silence. He rested his head on your shoulder and exhaled, lazily wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, angel, I was been watching you.” You moved your head an inch to the side, even more flustered about your words.

“…Oh, on my website and livestreams?” Fyodor shook his head slowly, making your stomach drop. He grabbed your chin and moved your face around your room.

“No, here, there, and…here!” He guided your face from your smart fridge to your balcony camera and finally to your laptop camera. He smiled upon feeling you gulp nervously. “Ah, I guess I watched your livestreams and videos, too, but it’s more fun to watch you alone from different cameras,” he mentioned it too naturally, like that wasn’t considered creepy or an invasion of privacy. He frowned teasingly, “You should really get a stronger security system, angel. Lots of hackers are out there, and they love to target helpless, sweet girls like you.” He smiled to himself; not like any security systems could protect you—he could bypass all of them.

“Oh, about that…you wouldn’t mind streaming this, would you?” Your body froze, but he continued. His hands left your waist to glide down your arms, moving his fingers on top of yours. He reached over to your laptop and dragged your fingertip on top of a key to unlock it, going over to your bookmarked website and hitting the record button to start a livestream. He hid the live comment notifications, so your attention would be only on him. Your heart was beating rapidly as you were too shocked—realizing that Fyodor was a cyberstalker and about to make his presence known—trying to move his hand, but the one minute timer was already counting down on the screen.

Fyodor sighed after seeing your appalled expression, seeing the timer at 50 seconds. "Angel, that's no good...your viewers won't like it if you don't show them a pretty face. I want you to enjoy this as much as I will." He pushed you off his lap onto the floor, and the force of your knees hitting the floor finally brought you back to the present.

"H-hey, wha—" You snapped, placing your hands on Fyodor's thighs to steady your kneeling figure. He only looked back at you lovingly again while petting your head. Shit, that expression made you wet weak.

He bent down to your level to kiss your lips while looking into your eyes with a sympathetic expression, "Please, angel, be good for me..." You closed your eyes for a moment to savor his sweet gesture, "Or at least do it for your loyal viewers." He smirked, reminding you of your job. To perform. He was just giving you the option to enjoy it or not.

You only turned your head and pouted, earning another snide laugh from Fyodor, before he swiftly pulled off his pants and boxers, revealing his springing hard-on. Your eyes widened. It was long, not too thick, and the pale mauve-ish tip was already starting to leak some pre-cum. Definitely bigger than your dildos.

He clicked his tongue, "Angel, time's up." The counter was at five seconds, and Fyodor placed his hand behind your head, pulling you closer to his length. "If you're still embarrassed or upset, you can just start—no need to do an introduction." He cooed, offering some faux condolences which made you narrow your eyes at him for trying to mansplain your own job.

You heard the beep notifying you that your stream had started, so you lowered your head to his tip and kissed it softly, using kitten licks to collect his built-up arousal around the slit. His hand gripped your hair tighter as he sighed from your motions, pleased that you were complying. Flashing doe eyes at him, you ran your tongue up and down his cock, placing kisses along the way and paying special attention to the throbbing veins around the side. He let out a low growl as you captured his heavy balls in your mouth, popping them in and out of your swollen lips. The intimate, sweet way you worshipped his dick was perfect.

"Angel..." He grunted, pulling your head back and signaling for you to stop teasing him. You sat up straighter and kissed his sticky tip one last time before gently taking it into your mouth and sucking slowly, working your way down to the base while swirling your tongue around his length. You looked up to see him flushed, now groaning in heat from the way you passionately sucked him off like a lover—not to mention how well you were taking him despite his big size. "Mmmm—you're doing so g-good...God y-you little—a-ahh—"

Fyodor threw his head back in ecstasy, your small bobbing motions and the sloppy sounds making him breathe heavily, both of your eyes clouded over with pure lust. Watching him become weak under your tongue was gratifying to say the least—you were clenching your thighs together, sure the viewers could see the wet spot on your thin shorts. His cock felt heavenly in your mouth, but you really wanted him in your—

He pushed your head flush against his pelvis, and it took everything in you to not gag from the abrupt intrusion as his tip poked the back of your throat. "I'm close, take it a-all, milaya—" Fyodor's groans got louder as you slowly pulled away, sucking along what you could and using your hands to pump whatever was left. You hummed along his cock, the vibrations making him close his eyes and tug on your hair, tears forming and starting to run down your face. He heaved deeply as he opened his eyes to look down at your pretty face, stroking your soft skin adoringly. You could tell he was close, so you moved closer to his tip, running your tongue across his sensitive slit, driving him over the edge. A deep grunt followed by the twitching motions of his aching cock were your final warnings as you got into a better position to follow his commands. You sturdied yourself against his thighs as his cum spilled down into your throat, making you moan.

Fyodor pulled your strands harshly, angling your head to ensure not even a single drop leaked out, making you lightheaded from the lack of air from what felt like being held still for forever. You turned to the camera, opening your mouth to prove you swallowed it all, and cleaning the residual cum on your mouth with your fingers before sucking them clean, the sight getting Fyodor hard again. Your lewd actions prompted a deep laugh from the dark-haired man, who was breathing heavily and busy coming down from the heaven you'd just sent him to, "My angel has quite a dirty mouth on her, doesn't she? You seem more like a succubus to me."

You simpered cheekily, stripping what was left of your floral lace set, teasing Fyodor and reveling in his intense gaze. You slowly rose up and sat in his lap, purposely pressing your ass against his stomach and spreading your folds with your fingers, teasing his tip with your entrance, making you hiss in lust. "Hey, Fyodor, can you put it insid—"

You were cut off with a harsh slap to your pussy and a rough yank on your hair, making you squeal in pain and pushing you back down against his chest. Fyodor pulled your hair at an upwards angle to face him, glaring into your lively eyes and inciting fear into them. "Don't forget I'm the one that's in control, shlyukha." His warning sent shivers throughout your body, and you nearly screamed when you felt him thrust into you, walls tightening around him, and you choked as he pushed deeper inside you, body stiff from how he just punished you. You gasped as he relentlessly filled you up with his length and stretched your spawning cunt—which you were sure was lewdly squeezing around him on camera. You could feel your eyes running again as he bottomed out in you—touching spots that even your biggest toys couldn’t reach.

He only smirked as he heard your whines and whimpers, which he knew would soon be replaced by pleasured cries because of how wet you got from giving him a blowjob. He kissed your tears away before guiding your hips back and forth on his cock, being more gentle and placing more kisses down from your ear to your neck. Upon hearing soft moans leave your lips, Fyodor drew small circles on your puffy clit, using his free hand to clasp your hands behind your back. Smirking after feeling you start to ride him to meet his thrusts, he playfully bit your ear, "Ha, I knew deep down you were just a sinful little slut."

More tears fell from your eyes as you felt Fyodor's dick reach your g-spot, the sensation sending a burning fire through your body. It was intense, much more so than anything you'd done solo. It was like all you could focus on was him, how rough yet passionately he was fucking you, how your head was full of his sultry, deep voice only, and how stuffed you were of his cock. You could feel yourself starting to unravel, moaning loudly as Fyodor pinched your sensitive nipples while gingerly kissing and nipping at your hickies.

"F-Fyodor, you're so m-mean". You murmured, the different sensations making you quiver under his touch. The blinding pleasure lolled your head forward, your front strands of hair covering your eyes, but you could still see Fyodor's magenta orbs cutting into yours through your peripheral, holding an intimidating expression.

His fingers swiped some stray layers to the side, his panting breath fanning over the shell of your ear, "I never said I was a nice man, milaya." You bit your lip after feeling him kiss under your ear, his gentle touches mixed with his unrelenting assault on your pussy driving you to your climax. Fyodor smiled as he felt you squeezing his cock so desperately and watched how your eyes fluttered, lashes wet from your tears but still framing your eyes so beautifully. "You're close, aren't you, angel? It's fine, let it all out on camera. Let everyone see how indecent you are." His finger circled faster around your clit and he groaned feeling you clench around his length again. "Show your loyal fans how much you love being fucked by a stranger." Another faint bite to your neck paired with a particularly rough thrust sent you over the edge. Juices dripping down from the spot your bodies connected, you cried out from the force of your orgasm washing over you.

Sighing from relief, Fyodor slowed your bouncing movements with slow strokes to bring you down from your high. Catching your breath again, you turned to face your cyberstalker, eyes dreamily looking at him, secretly tugging on his cold heart. You brought your face up, yearning to kiss him, but he only tilted your chin down and kissed your forehead instead, making you pout as he stared at you blankly. "I-I can't kiss you?" You asked, suddenly shy. Fyodor exhaled slowly, finding your faux innocence adorable. He didn’t tell you, but he wasn’t the type of man that enjoyed tasting himself on his lips—it was dirty, and that type of sinfulness was reserved for you and your lips only.

"So needy...this isn't enough for you, my angel?" You yelped as he roughly pulled you down on his member and came inside of you, the abrupt warmth flooding your insides and drawing a low moan from you. Fyodor kissed your neck before letting your restricted hands go and shutting your laptop to end the livestream. His phone buzzing made him turn his head, and he calmly moved to pull out of your snug cunt. He grunted as he felt your pussy gripping onto his cock tightly, trying to milk him completely dry. You whimpered when he finally pulled out, feeling empty and stretched out, already missing him pounding your walls as his cum flowed out of you, coating your plush inner thighs and staining your previously spotless couch.

He kissed your reddened cheek to offer some aftercare and sat up from the couch, grabbing his discarded clothes from the floor and putting them back on.

"You're leaving, Fyodor?" You looked up at the man, now fully clothed and checking his phone. He gave you an unreadable smile and glanced at you longingly.

"Yes, milaya. I have business to attend to." He pet the top of your hair gently before walking past your figure. Hearing you huff in disappointment, he looked back and smirked, "I may come back sometime, though, angel. If you beg me nicely enough..." Your eyes sparkled upon hearing his words, which almost made him go back for another round. He held a hand out to signal his leave and disappeared, walking out the door like a ghost, like he didn't just break in arrive, leaving you with your cold dinner.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Exiting your apartment complex, Fyodor grinned arrogantly upon seeing the livestream recording that had successfully downloaded onto his phone. You didn't know, but he'd already hacked into your laptop before visiting and made the stream private—there was no way he'd let anyone watch him corrupt his pretty angel.

Now all he had to do was watch and wait. Wait for his angel to summon the demon she had sinned for again.

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[luvt0kki]

training wheels | k.h.j

pairing : Professor!Hongjoong x innocent!reader ft!Wooyoung

♡₊˚( wrote this listening to ‘training wheels’ by Melanie Martinez)

summary: Too innocent for your own good, your professor's little hidden crush only grows the more he could spend time with you. You were so pure before his eyes. A sweet young woman who deserves the sweetest kind of love but still had trouble in paradise with her boyfriend…but he’ll be there for you. After all, he only wants what’s best for you and to protect you.

wc: 10.7k

cw: University AU, smut, coquette-ish fem!innocent reader, virgin reader, slightly older Hongjoong, manipulation, obsessive stalker-ish behavior, yandere behavior, corruption kink, cheating , frat boy behavior from Maknae line, oral!male receiving, there'll be more spice in the next part

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: hello so it’s been awhile and this has been cooling in my drafts for so long. Special thanks to @songmingisthighs for helping me whenever I’m stuck with writing and for being one of my favourite persons on this app 😭i wanted to write something that isn’t apart of the Sway With Me universe just for a change and a breather ( I hope you guys don’t mind that). I just wanted to write.

- this is will be a two part series!

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

Note: Hongjoong is a couple years older but he’s still young for a professor. Maknae Line is in their last year of Uni and is part of the University’s Varsity baseball team.Y /N is innocent ( smh). Kinda coquettish vibes but yuh, sweet girl.

The rain storming outside made anxiety bubble in your chest as you clutched your laptop bag and books tight. You glanced at your phone, the bright red bar of the little battery icon glaring at you. That just made your situation even worse and it didn’t help that the last message you saw was the reason you were stranded here in the first place.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. The team meeting is going overtime tonight. Get home safe. Please message me when you’re home.”

You waited for him. You should be angry at him but instead, you were only heartbroken and sad that he didn’t keep his word. You were frustrated that you couldn’t even hate him the slightest bit for forgetting to pick you up and the sudden downpour was just the cherry on top.

“Ms. L/N, is that you?”

That voice. That familiar tone that you heard every Monday and Wednesday from 8 am til 10 am. The voice that made your Art Appreciation lecture so interesting that you’re excited to come early every morning to learn sounded from behind you.

You turned around and quickly bowed your head in his direction out of respect.

“Mr.Kim.”

The young professor frowned at your presence.

“It is you. What are you still doing here?” He asked, extending his arm a bit to glance at his silver watch. “It’s almost 11 pm.”

“I-It started raining…” was all you could say. You couldn’t nor want to admit to your university professor the real reason why you were stranded on campus.

“Indeed…,” he gently grasped your arm and pulled you into the covered shade of the hall. “Do you need a ride home, Ms. L/N? I was just about to leave and go home but I can drop you off at the nearest bus stop or if you’d like, your home.”

His offer made your heart melt. Mr. Kim Hongjoong has always been so kind and sweet to his students. He has always shown such care and patience to their studies and well-being, and as the many girls in your classroom would whisper amongst each other, he was also very handsome. Which was a fact everyone in the whole campus knew.

“I don’t want to be of a hassle to you, Sir. I can wait for the rain to stop.” You tried to kindly turn down his offer, not wanting to bother him but also you felt it was inappropriate for a student to be in any proximity to a professor alone.

“Ms. L/N, it’s late and the rain doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon. I assure you it is not a bother to take you home. I’ll be worried if I just left you here.”

He was right. Both about the rain and the time, and you’re never out this late. Well at least not alone and it made you antsy. Mr. Kim looked at you with so much care in dark brown eyes that it felt impossible to say no to his kind offer.

“O-okay.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the passenger seat of your professor's fancy car.

You looked around subtly observing the luxurious interior of the vehicle. It smelled like new leather and Mr. Kim’s cologne. Your phone buzzed breaking your little observation as Mr. Kim typed in the location of your apartment into his phone GPS.

“Baby? Are you home? Please let me know.” The text message notification shone brightly.

You let out a little sigh.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice your rather wilted demeanor. He looked over you in the corner of his eye as he started the car. Little did you know, he was admiring your look today. You didn’t have class with him on Fridays so seeing today was rather…refreshing. Baby pink always looked so pretty on you, he thought to himself. Your blouse almost had a ballet-like aesthetic to it, it wrapped around your torso so elegantly and gently accentuated your curves. It was matched with a very pretty flowy white skirt that wasn’t too short nor too long, and there was a thin pink ribbon in your hair, the finishing touch to your very sweet ensemble. You always dressed so cute.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He asked his voice so calm and gentle that it calmed your silent frustration.

“Not really…” you muttered your gaze down at the hem of your skirt, your books, and your laptop sleeve on your lap.

The defeated expression you wore made the older man’s heartache for you. He didn’t like to see you like this. You were like a ray of gentle sunshine whenever you entered his classroom, a doe in a beautiful blooming field of flowers that radiated warmth that made anyone and everyone around you comfortable and calm. It was odd to see you like this.

“If you want to talk about it I’m all ears,” he offered with a smile, reaching behind the head of your passenger seat and glancing behind as he reversed up his car from the parking lot.

Your heart raced at the gesture. You didn’t know what about it was making you feel all flustered and small. His kind words and warm tone made it hard to keep your emotions in. Maybe you can just tell him…a little bit.

“I waited for my boyfriend to pick me up…but he didn’t come.” You murmured, heart aching as you said those words.

Hongjoong’s heart dropped, and he raised a brow at what you just said. Your boyfriend didn’t show up?

“I know I shouldn’t be so upset…it’s just he promised. I understand he has obligations to his team…I just feel like he forgot about me.”

Your sweet voice was so small. Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to soothe you and reassure you. Underneath all of that, he was bubbling with irritation. He kept a softened and caring expression on his face as he listened to you, gripping the stirring wheel to hide his annoyance.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” he said so sympathetically. “You’re such a sweet girl to be so understanding of your boyfriend. If I remember correctly your boyfriend is…”

“Wooyoung.” You whispered his name, your lips between your teeth as you tried to hold back your disappointed tears and hurt.

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened.

Right.

Jung Wooyoung.

“Ah…yes. The university’s baseball star.” He was also a student in one of his classes. A heartthrob along with his best friend and Baseball Vice Captain, Choi San.

“I’ll feel better when I get home and sleep it off.” You didn’t want to talk about him forgetting to pick you up any longer.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Ms. L/N, how long have you been together?” He asked, hoping his question was not so out of the blue as he continued to drive.

“Almost three months now, Mr. Kim.” You replied, the idea of being with Wooyoung for so long making you a little happy despite tonight’s disappointment.

Lucky bastard. “Oh, that’s very recent.”

“I know…but he’s very sweet to me. He takes care of me and he really makes me happy.” You listed the good things that always made your heart flutter. Your sweet loving boyfriend who had pursued you and never pushed for anything you weren’t ready for. If you were to describe your relationship with Wooyoung, it was like the love you see in the movies.

“That’s good to hear. You’re one of my sweetest students and I’d be worried if you weren’t happy,” Hongjoong smiled, earning the reaction he wanted and expected from someone as innocent as you.

Your pretty eyes widened at his words and you looked even shyer. He wondered if that’s why your boyfriend was attracted to you.

You didn’t know what to say but there was a small smile on your face when he called you one of his sweetest students.

“Thank you, sir.”

Sir.

Hongjoong’s night was getting better than he could ever imagine. First, the surprise of seeing you still on campus alone as he left, then you accepting his offer to drive you home, and now, Sir? For a long time, he loved how that name slipped from your pretty glossed lips.

“I’m sure your boyfriend feels really guilty about not having shown up. Sometimes these things happen.” Hongjoong tried to reassure you, not really wanting to defend the University senior you were seeing but he needed to say what you wanted or needed to hear.

You take his words as it is. He was older than you so he knew about these things more than you. He was wiser. He was right, these things do happen. Wooyoung did apologize too. So maybe it’s not as bad as you were making it out to be.

Hongjoong noticed how you sat up a little, no longer sulking so cutely in the passenger seat. He smirked a little to himself, his eyes on the road. Did you trust his words that much? Was that how much power he had over you?

You were too innocent it concerned him.

You were truly a doe in a field of flowers. So pretty and so completely oblivious to the wolves hiding in the tall grass. He was sure your boyfriend was one of them and that he too had a deep dark desire for your innocence.

“Is this your place?” He pulled up outside an apartment complex, people passing by in the street as he looked up at the building observing it.

“Yes, it is!” You chirped, happy that you were able to get home safely and it was all thanks to your kind and sweet professor. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kim. I really appreciate it. I really cannot thank you enough…and talking to you made me feel better. I’m really lucky that you were here tonight.”

Hongjoong smiled, holding back from reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t want to scare you away.

“If you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble, Ms. L/N, you can come to me okay? Here,” he reached into his pocket, getting his card but writing down his personal phone number in the back of it before holding it your way.

Like he expected you didn’t think much of it, what a sweet girl.

“Mr. Kim you’re so kind.” You took the pretty name card with his phone number in the back. “I don’t get into trouble but I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Let me help you get inside, okay?” He got out of his car with an umbrella, going over to your side to open the passenger seat door and to hold the umbrella over you and him so that he could escort you to your apartment lobby.

You stepped out of the car and blushed when you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders to gently guide you to the sidewalk and your apartment lobby. He made sure you were dry and safe and also took note of how an access card is needed to get in. He was glad you lived somewhere so safe.

You thanked him again, unable to look him in the eyes because the warm smile on his face was making your heart flutter.

“Now I can go home without worrying if you got back safe,” he lightheartedly teased, making you giggle. He was such a kind person. “Take care of yourself, Ms. L/N. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Enjoy your weekend, Sir.” You bowed your head respectfully, appreciating how handsome he was in his coat and suit. It made him look like a character from the dramas you see on television.

Monday rolled around quicker than you thought while Hongjoong found the weekend went by agonizingly slow. As he set up his laptop in the lecture hall as other students filed in, he couldn’t help but anticipate your arrival. He kindly smiled and greeted the students who had the energy to wish him a good morning, he even kept glancing at your seat that was still empty.

Were you not well? Did you catch a cold over the weekend from the rain on Friday night?

“You really didn’t have to walk me, Woo.”

Your gentle soft voice made the professor perk up and his heart race a little. Subtly, he glanced at the door, more students entering but behind them in the hall was you.

“Hey, I still feel guilty about not having picked you up on Friday. I’m gonna make it up to you.” Wooyoung placed his hand on your waist, feeling the soft fabric of your skirt. “You’re too nice if you’re just gonna let me off the hook. I’m gonna be extra attentive, okay baby?”

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at the young dark-haired boy, his varsity jacket telling everyone that passed who he was and the status he had in the university. He zeroed in on the hand on your waist, Wooyoung’s thumb caressing you gently and his fingers even playing with the cute ribbons on your skirt.

“O-okay,” you blushed, trying to fight back the giddy smile that was forming on your face.

Wooyoung grinned at your response and glanced left and right before pulling you closer til you were pressed against him. Your wide eyes looked up at him in surprise and you got your body tingling when both his hands rested on your waist.

Your fluster only made your handsome boyfriend grin even more with that twinkle in his eyes that always made you feel special.

“You have a nice day, okay?” He whispered and before you could respond, without a care in the world and with no shame if any other student passing would see, he leaned down and kissed your glossed lips.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. This was different from the soft pecks and quick kisses he’d give, these were the kisses you liked from him. The deep ones that made your head feel all hazy. The one that made heat pool in your lower belly.

Wooyoung pulled back and pressed another kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

“O-okay.” You murmured, feeling everyone’s curious eyes on both of you and wanting to remain hidden by Wooyoung’s form.

Wooyoung smiled and then licked his lips. “Oh? Strawberry?”

The mention of your flavored lip gloss made you look up at him, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“You’re gonna have me craving you all morning, baby.” He dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “How will I ever survive? One more.” He tried to go for another kiss and you squealed as he pulled you back.

“Woo, I have class!”

“But strawberry!” He pouted as he kept you in his embrace, some students rolling their eyes at the two of you and some finding the two of you cute and amusing. Wooyoung’s teammates from down the hall caught wind of the two of you and hooted.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ll be starting my lecture soon.”

The voice of Mr. Kim made your eyes widen as embarrassment made you want to hide from his gaze.

“Oh, Mr. Kim,” Wooyoung spoke his professor's name with no shame of getting caught being affectionate with his girlfriend. “Morning!”

Hongjoong could only manage a nod to his greeting before turning to you, still in your boyfriend’s hold and unable to look him in the eyes.

“Ms. L/N, class starts in five minutes.” He spoke sternly, his tone making your lips form a small pout.

The way you reacted to him made the older man before you swoon. God, you were too cute.

“Yes, sir.”

There it was again. The way you said ‘sir’ all defeated and cute.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Wooyoung apologized. “My bad.” He removed his varsity jacket and draped it over your shoulders before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch, baby.”

Then Wooyoung sauntered away with a swing in his step and his bag over one shoulder, on his way to his respective class.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” You murmured, keeping your gaze down and hugging your books to your chest as you went inside the room along with the last few students who arrived.

Hongjoong watched as you made your way to your seat. Your pretty skirt swayed with each step and he wondered if skirts made up most of your wardrobe. It must be such a delight for your boyfriend.

Loosening the grip he had on his pen as he watched the whole interaction between you and Wooyoung, he smiled at his students. What mattered the most to him was you were safe. You were here and you were safe and well. Never mind the fact that you and your boyfriend easily made up from Friday night’s incident.

You were here.

The lecture was an enjoyable one not only for the students but him as well. As he discussed the significance of art during the Roman Empire, his students were all hooked in with his explanations and discussions, and even he got carried away excitedly with every question and topic.

“Mr. Kim is so hot.” A classmate beside you, Jennie, whispered to her friend, the two of them giggling as your professor shared his knowledge with the class.

“And he’s so nice too. You think he’s a virgin?” Minsol whispered back and you felt your heart grow hot listening to them.

You fidgeted in your seat and tried to block them out, focusing on Professor Kim.

“He’s so young to be a professor. Maybe he spent all that time studying to the max, you know! Maybe he is!”

“He’s so cute.” Minsol chuckled. “But then he’s so sexy when he pushes his hair back.”

And almost as if on cue, Mr. Kim ran his fingers through his dark brown locks, pushing them back as he smiled at his students in awe at the discussion.

He was handsome. You admitted that a long time ago. Attractive? Yes. But he was your professor. It was wrong to think of him the way Jennie and Minsol were.

Til now, their voices couldn’t be blocked out completely.

“I’d gladly blow him for a good grade,” Jennie whispered, her eyes looking Hongjoong up and down.

“Jennie!” Minsol playfully smacked her friend, her voice still hushed.

“What? Just think of it. Goody two shoes Mr.Kim so kind and worried that your grades are slipping, and then you tell him you’d do anything to raise your grade.” Jennie described the scenario so vividly. “No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Your heart was racing in your chest as you listened to the fantasy. It didn’t help that Mr. Kim was right there before your eyes as Jennie’s voice whispered discreetly to her friend such a scandalous scenario.

“But it won’t stop there.”

That piqued your interest and you felt ashamed to have been so curious.

“He has a nice car too. Imagine fucking in the backseat of that luxury car way past campus hours in secret.”

Your heart thumped strongly at the mention of his car. You had been in his car and the dirty thought of Mr. Kim being all over your body and kissing you in the spacious backseat crossed your mind.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned all his students, happy that they were enjoying the class but paused when he saw you. Your body was swallowed by your boyfriend’s big varsity jacket and you looked flustered, even biting your glossed lips, fidgeting in your seat.

Then he saw the two girls next to you giggling and gossiping. What were they talking about that was making you blush so much? Briefly, your eyes moved from your notebook and locked with his but you immediately looked down when you saw that he had been looking your way.

Hongjoong could only assume they were talking about him. In what way? He wasn’t sure but it was a way that was making you look even shyer and could he dare say, hot and bothered?

Then the bell rang.

“Alright, we’ll continue the discussion on Wednesday and I’ll hand you all your Renaissance art period essays that I already graded then. Have a nice day.” Hongjoong’s elegant and calm voice echoed in the lecture hall, as he made his way behind his desk, sitting out the papers.

A chorus of thanks was sent his way as the students little by little exited the lecture hall. He looked your way, watching as you packed your things and gathered your books.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jennie turned to you. “How are you and your stud of a boyfriend?”

“Oh, m-me and Woo?” Your lashes fluttered so prettily as Hongjoong pretended he couldn’t hear you and the girls.

“Yeah! We saw you two being all cute and kissy out in the hall.” Minsol chuckled as she touched up her makeup with powder.

“We’re great.” You couldn’t stop the happy smile on your face as you thought of your boyfriend.

“He’s your first boyfriend, right? Have you two…you know….”

Your brows furrowed. “Have we what?”

Hongjoong fought his sigh at how oblivious you were.

Minsol’s eyes widened as she snapped her compact closed and leaned over. “You guys haven’t?”

“What are you two talking about?” You tilted your head like a puppy.

The two girls exchanged looks of shock.

“Y/N…” Jennie leaned closer, lowering her voice even further but Hongjoong’s ears were sharp. “Are you a virgin?”

Immediately, your face was burning as you hugged your books to your chest, wanting to cover your face with Wooyoung’s jacket.

“Holy shit!” Minsol exclaimed then realized she had been loud. She looked towards the whiteboard and saw Mr. Kim looking at the three of you questioningly. “Uh…sorry Mr. Kim!”

Hongjoong only smiled and he shook his head, returning to his papers and was glad that he was sitting behind his desk as the idea of you never being touched morphed from shock and into desire. He kind of guessed you were…but dating the star athlete and heartthrob of the campus made him second guess that you were.

“Girl, you need to come with us!” Jennie hooked her arm with yours and Minsol on the other as the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall.

“Bye, Mr. Kim!” They chimed as they dragged you out with them.

“B-bye, sir.” Your little voice reached his ears as the three of you finally left him alone in the empty hall.

Hongjoong hunched over, crossing his arms on his desk as he groaned.

You were driving him insane.

What’s worse was that you didn’t even intend to do so.

He wanted you.

He needed you.

As the afternoon passed, Hongjoong made his way to his office. The hall was empty as students were in their classes or their club activities. It was peaceful til he heard hushed whispers ahead from an empty classroom, the door only slightly ajar.

The professor frowned. Were there students doing another weed deal on campus? Before concluding, through the very small gap of the wooden double doors, he took a peek.

“S-someone could walk in.”

Was that his sweet Y/N’s voice? Hongjoong’s heart began to race.

“Baby, I promise no one is. This room is always vacant at this hour.” Wooyoung reassured you, kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, specifically caressing your thighs that were parted as he stood between them.

Hongjoong swallowed the lump in his throat.

Perched on the large mahogany desk, was you. Your skirt was hiked up higher as your boyfriend pressed against you, his paws all over your soft body, feeling you through your clothes.

“You look so sexy in my jacket,” Wooyoung whispered in your ear, his hand moving lower til they were under your skirt. “I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you looked during lunch.”

You softly yelped when his fingers pressed against your core through your cotton panties. “W-woo!”

“Awe, baby, are you getting wet? All for me?”

“W-woo,” you whimpered when he traced his fingers along your slit, embarrassed at the dirty talk.

“Fuck, you’re soaking through your panties, baby. Tell me you want me to touch you. Ask me and I’ll make you feel good, baby.”

You wanted him to keep touching you but you felt a little guilty. You had started to feel hot way earlier than your boyfriend knew. Jennie and Minsol’s hushed whispering from class about Mr. Kim…ashamedly had made you ache.

“M-make me feel good, Woo.”

Your boyfriend groaned against your neck, rubbing you through your panties. “My pretty baby. You deserve so much.”

Your back arched when he applied more pressure to your clit.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby. I promise…. but I won’t make your first time here in a classroom.” He kissed your neck messily, licking your skin.

“But Youngie…” you didn’t want him to stop touching you. He has touched you like this many times before when he came over but it never went past that. He didn’t want to force you into something you weren’t ready for but as time passed and the more you fell for him, you’ve been wanting to go all the way with him.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you cum. I’ll be a good boyfriend and let my pretty girlfriend cum.” He kissed your forehead, slipping his hand under your panties to truly feel you. “You’re so wet, baby.” He moaned, collecting your slick and spreading it all over your pussy.

“Youngie,” you whimpered, gripping his shirt as your thighs trembled at the delicious friction.

“I love it when you call me that,” he sighed, repressing the urge that he indeed in fact wanted to ruin his pretty untouched girlfriend. He loved you and he wanted to treat you right as best as he could. You weren’t like the other girls he’s been with. He liked how you looked at him with stars in your eyes.

Your thighs squeezed at his sides unable to close as he continued to play with your pussy, touching you heavily and the way you liked. You couldn’t help but softly moan and pant at the intoxicating pleasure.

Hongjoong was burning with jealousy. A part of him wanted to disrupt the two of you and scold the two of you for misconduct as he had every right as a professor to do so. But…you looked so pretty falling apart for your boyfriend. Brows furrowed as your lips part and sigh, the setting sun hitting your skin in such a way that the lewd imagery before him was like a movie. He could feel his desire straining in his trousers. He wanted to watch.

“Youngie,” you whimpered so prettily.

Hongjoong took note of how your back arched when Wooyoung nibbled and kissed at a spot on your neck. You must be extra sensitive there. He also imagined how soft your breasts would be if he was the one cupping them through your cute blouse.

“You close baby?” Wooyoung rasped against your ear, rubbing your clit faster, making you lean your head forward to rest on his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Wooyoung clicked his tongue, his right hand leaving your breast to grab you by the chin, making you look at him. “Let me see your pretty face, baby.” He swiped his thumb over your lower lip and bit his lip when you suddenly took his digit into your mouth, softly sucking on it. Where the fuck did you learn to do that? “C’mon, baby. Cum. Cum for me.”

You released his thumb with a soft pop, your lips even glossier from your gloss and saliva. You were panting and moaning so cutely, Wooyoung felt he was going to cum in his pants just at the sight of you getting off his fingers. He massaged your clit faster, watching the way your lids began to droop as you blinked up at him hazily and your lips part in a cute little ‘o’.

“Youngie!” You cried out, back arching and thighs trembling as you reached your high, your pussy dripping more arousal all over your boyfriend’s fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Such a pretty baby.” Wooyoung cooed, enjoying your fucked out expression. It was addicting really. His sweet innocent girlfriend falling apart for him. If you were this fucked out by just fingers, he can’t imagine how fucking delectable you looked when he finally fucked you.

Hongjoong bit his lip as he watched you come down from your high. How your arms wrapped around your boyfriend as he slowed his circles on your clit. He wished he could see how your pussy looked, how wet it was, and how sweet the nectar it produced.

Wooyoung took his hand from your panties and brought his fingers to his lips, your eyes widening. His hand left its grip on your face.

“W-woo!”

That didn’t stop him from letting his tongue dart out to lick his digits. “You taste so sweet, baby. Maybe I’ll come up tonight once I drop you off and really have a good taste of you.”

You blushed at his words and felt heat spark in your lower belly at what he hinted. Did he mean that he was going to kiss and taste you down there? With his tongue? The idea made your cheeks grow hot but that only made your boyfriend grin.

“Oh? You’re not opposed to it?” He teased, enjoying the way you only huffed and pouted your pretty lips. “Here, baby. Taste yourself.”

Hongjoong watched as you wearily, so curiously, poked out your cute tongue to lick your boyfriend’s fingers. How did you taste? Did you like it? You batted your lashes up at your boyfriend who awaited your verdict.

“So? How do you taste?” He took your hand in his other one, just relishing the moment you two had in the orange sunset-lit classroom.

“G-good.”

“Atta, girl.” Wooyoung grinned, taking you into his embrace and kissing you again.

Hongjoong felt his head pound from how hard he was in his pants. He wanted a taste. He needed a taste.

How was he going to get close to you when you and your boyfriend were all fine and dandy again?

“What do you say, baby? Friday night? I’ll come over and we’ll watch a movie. I’ll bring your favorite strawberries coated in chocolate. Then maybe…” he caressed your cheek. “We could go all the way?”

“W-won’t it hurt?”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s hearts ached at your sweetness.

“Well, when Friday rolls around, and you’re not up for it. It’s okay. We’ll just have a cozy little date and make out. I’ll wait for you when you’re ready. Okay?”

His gentle voice along with his care for you made your stomach flutter. “O-okay.” You leaned your cheek into his palm. “I love you, Woo.”

“I love you too, baby.”

While you and Wooyoung basked in the moment you two found yourselves in, Hongjoong made a beeline to his office and locked the door. He glanced down and saw the bulge of his cock poking through his tailored trousers. He threw his head back, slamming it against the door as he groaned.

He was going to have to take care of it himself cause it wasn’t going to go away til he did.

He didn’t know when the stalking— okay, in his defense, following and keeping an eye on you, started.

All Hongjoong knew was, he needed to get to know you. He needed to get closer somehow, be a friend. Someone you could turn to and cry to. Plus, you lived alone, away from your parents. You needed someone to protect you.

From all the wolves that surrounded you, including that boyfriend of yours.

As he passed the baseball field from where he parked his car, he couldn’t help but overhear a group of young wolf pups gathered and talking beneath the morning sun. They all wore the same varsity jacket, making Hongjoong’s pack of wolves analogy even truer.

“So? Did you and Y/N go all the way yet?” The Vice Captain of the team asked, the young and handsome Mr. Choi.

The rest of the boys began to nudge and tease their Captain who had been tossing the baseball in his hand nonchalantly.

“Yeah, have you and little Miss all prim and proper done more than just second base?” The tallest of them, Song Mingi, joined in the teasing, the boys all grinning and tossing oo’s and ah’s. “Your girl has a nice ass.”

“Hey,” Wooyoung harshly hissed at his teammate. “Yeah, and that’s my girl you’re talking about.”

“Can’t blame Mingi. You’re with the campus’s dream girl.” Jongho added, running his fingers through his brown hair.

“Dream girl?” Wooyoung’s brows furrowed.

“Yeah! Sure she’s lowkey and literally the nicest person on campus. Hell, she even helped me with calculus. I even thought of asking her out on a date.” San chirped. “But you got to her first. Anyway, that’s beside the point, did you guys finally do it? Friday night?”

Hongjoong remained hidden behind the shadows of the bleachers, needing to know the answer to San’s question.

“We didn’t. She got nervous and you know, I have to be a good boyfriend and wait. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s a nice girl.” Wooyoung finally responded, his answer earning a groan from his friends.

Mingi stared at him for a moment. “You should be a saint. That amount of self-control is crazy.”

“Well, good things come to those who wait, Mingi.” Wooyoung grinned. “I’m a hundred percent sure my girl is worth the wait and more.”

“You’re really down bad for her, huh?” Jongho laughed softly, actually admiring the fact that Wooyoung was becoming a better guy with you.

“Y-yeah…she is. I really love her.”

“I just can’t believe she fell for you. After all the girls you slept with in the past and the parties. She still fell for Jung Wooyoung. Anyways,” Jongho clapped Wooyoung on the back. “I hope you get some soon.”

San wouldn’t relent though.

“Has she at least been…you know….giving? I know you worship the fuck out of her in different ways but has the pretty princess given back?”

Hongjoong should head back to his office before he’s caught but…he needed to know the details.

“San, she doesn’t know how.”

Wooyoung’s response made San groan and Hongjoong fought back his own.

“She’s a fucking angel your girlfriend.” San huffed his crush on you not concerning Wooyoung as he knew San would never cross the line.

“Dude, when you get to teach her, it’s gonna be so fucking hot.” Mingi sighed, thinking of who to contact for his next hookup. He needed to fuck.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but agree. To teach someone as beautiful and pretty as you, how to use your cute mouth and delicate hands…the fantasy of you between his legs while he sits on his office couch…guiding you while you look up at him for him to lead you…the young pups have a point.

“Okay, can you guys chill and not talk about my girlfriend like that?” Wooyoung lightly scolded his friends. “Anyways, you guys better be on your best behavior for tonight’s practice. I'm driving Y/N home for our date and I really don’t want to have to bail again because Coach isn’t happy with our performance.”

“We’ll do our best,” San spoke for them, sending a pointed glare to Mingi and Jongho, they’re bickering always getting their Coach to overtime their practices. “But coach hasn’t been in a good mood as far as I know.”

Wooyoung swore under his breath, worry bubbling in his chest when he imagined your disappointment and the way your eyes become glassy as you fight back tears. He really didn’t want to make you feel like he didn’t care about you again…he knew you understood his obligations to his team. He just hoped he wouldn’t forget to update you this time and keep you waiting for him.

Hongjoong didn’t stay long after that. He went off his merry way back to his office, wondering if tonight would be another chance to have some time with you again. Be your knight in shining armor if your boyfriend doesn’t pick you up again.

All he needed to do was stay in your good graces.

After all, he just wanted to take care of you…

It began with longer conversations after class, asking how you were doing and if you understood the lecture or not. Then when midterms started to round the corner he would casually stay past campus hours just so that he could ‘by chance’ be finishing up late at the same time you were finished up studying in the library.

But this time, when he found you, the sun was beginning to set and you were in one of the library aisles, in the sections students don’t frequent, on the floor hugging your knees to your chest. Your back was against the tall wooden bookshelf and you were by the window, your head below the window pane as you softly sniffled.

Hongjoong felt his stomach twist. What did your boyfriend do?

“Ms. L/N?” As softly as he could, he called out to you and he saw you visibly stiffen.

“M-Mr. Kim?” You kept your head down, too embarrassed to look up at him because he would see the tears and puffiness in your eyes.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He slowly approached, observing your body language if you would shrink away from him. He kneeled before you. “Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the way it quivered as you wanted to tell him exactly what happened but you were crying over something so silly.

A gentle warm hand softly patted your head, your heart stopping at the touch. Maybe you could tell him everything. Besides…he has been so kind to you and only ever wanted to make sure you were okay. When the two of you spent time together and talked, you would sometimes forget he was your professor and not just a friend.

And yet, your heart couldn’t help but want to be in the palm of his hand, knowing he’d be gentle with it.

When you lifted your head to look at him, the tears in your eyes had Hongjoong almost falling to his knees and wanting to embrace you right then and there. “I’ll take you to my office okay?” He offered, taking out his handkerchief and putting it in your trembling hands.

“O-okay.” You murmured.

With a guiding arm around your shoulders and making sure no wandering eyes would see the two of you, the likelihood being low since it was past class hours, the varsity teams were training and it was a Friday, he led you to his office.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of his office, clutching his handkerchief in your hand, a part of your brain contemplating the idea of being vulnerable in your professor's office. It was highly inappropriate. Should anyone find out—

You were torn from your thoughts when a pair of warm arms wrapped around you so gently. You blinked a couple of times unable to process what was happening and the beating of your heart. Hongjoong cradled the back of your head as he held you close to him, your cheek brushing against his neck.

“It hurts to see you cry.” He whispered, unable to hold himself back from soothing you then he pulled away and led you to the leather couch in his office.

You sat on one end while he was on the other, the gap between you reminding you of the intrusive thought of the distance you and Wooyoung might have soon…

“What’s wrong, darling? You can tell me, you know. I’m always here to lend an ear. Whatever it is I won’t judge you, especially when it hurts you this deeply.”

Hongjoong tried to meet your eyes that were cast down on your fingers on your lap, fiddling with his handkerchief. Was it your boyfriend? He swore if it was Jung Wooyoung he was going to teach that boy a lesson.

Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to speak freely to him.

A moment of weakness?

“I-I overheard Youngie’s friends when I was in the library…they were about to leave for practice and…” you felt that lump in your throat creep up higher, making you want to sob again as you remembered what they said. “They said that they felt b-bad for him.”

Bad for him?

“It’s a bit…tmi…sir. I’m sorry it’s hard to speak about it.” You stared at the edge of your skirt, feeling the shame and embarrassment you had felt earlier crawling on your skin.

“Ah? TMI.” Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest, trying to play it off as if it’s nothing to make it comfortable for you to tell him. “Well, Ms. L/N, we are two adults, aren’t we not? Plus, it’s after university hours. I’m here for you right now as a friend and I’d like to help soothe your troubles if you would let me.”

It was almost too easy the way you caved into his words. Jung Wooyoung did not deserve a sweet girl like you.

“Youngie’s teammates…said they feel bad for him because I haven’t…” you paused, heat blooming in your tear-stained cheeks. “I haven’t slept with him.” Then you felt that ache in your heart return. “I don’t want to lose him, Mr. Kim. I love him so much. I-I want to be a good girlfriend.”

Hongjoong’s heart broke. His beautiful wilted rose. How dare those dumb boys speak so ill of you?

“You’re a good girlfriend I’m sure, Ms. L/N.” He reassured you with such calmness, his words made you perk up a little. “You didn’t hear these words from Wooyoung himself right?”

You nodded.

“But even though…I still want to make him feel good. He always makes me feel…” you trailed off, realizing that you were talking about the intimate things you and your boyfriend do. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with Wooyoung like that…I just…I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Disappoint him how?”

“Wooyoung has been with girls…with experience. He’s my first boyfriend and he’s the first man to ever touch m-me…kiss me…”

Hongjoong was fighting back the attraction grew the more you spoke about your lack of experience. He couldn’t believe those boys had you questioning your worth all because you were scared to go all the way with your boyfriend.

“I-I even tried watching…videos…on how I can do things for Wooyoung…but I just am too scared to initiate it. What if I do something wrong and it goes horribly?”

“You shouldn’t need to worry about that. I’m sure your…” Hongjoong held himself back from saying what he said with jealousy. “…boyfriend would be more than happy to teach you. Has he offered to?”

You shook your head.

“Ah…I see.” Hongjoong sat back, trying to think of what to say next. “I’m pretty sure what you lack is practice…” he trod carefully, gauging your expression with each word he was choosing. “You’ll never know til you give it a try. With everything in life, you learn as you go.”

He watched as you took each word seriously, a rather sweet pensive look on your face as you nodded at his advice. Hongjoong hoped he didn’t cross the line by saying that and made things awkward between the two of you.

“If I may speak as another human being helping another,” Hongjoong continued, hoping to calm your stormy mind. “I just hope you don’t feel pressured to do anything with your boyfriend or anyone. It’s very sweet of you to want to do something this intimate with someone you desire but I’d rather you won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, going over all the caring and sweet affirmations Mr. Kim was giving you. How was it you felt so safe with him? He was too kind to you…yet you enjoyed the company he gave.

When Wooyoung wasn’t able to take you home from extended practices and last minute cancellations and texts, Professor Kim was always there to somehow salvage the day. To stop the breaking of your heart with his warm smile and effort to get to know you and make conversation.

“M-Mr. Kim…”

You finally spoke. Hongjoong smiled warmly at the call of his name. He observed how your cheeks began to flush. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you hesitate to continue. You suck in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be brave and look him in the eye.

“Could you guide me?”

Nothing but your voice rang in his ears at this moment. Hongjoong was shocked by the question. Was it a question? With the way your eyes were bleary and glossy, how your lips were trembling, and how flustered you appeared. It was a plea.

“Ms.L/N….” He tried to resist as much as he could, knowing that if he were to cross the line, he wouldn’t be able to go back. You were his forbidden desire. If he were to take a bite, he would want nothing more than to consume you.

You knew what you asked was silly and inappropriate, and a part of you regretted asking but if you were to leave this room right now, all you would be able to think about was how Wooyoung’s friends talked about you and wonder how much Wooyoung shared to his friends about yours and his relationship.

Mr.Kim looked speechless and flustered from what you asked of him. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

“Mr.Kim, I-I’m so sorry,” you quickly blurted out, trying to salvage the odd atmosphere. “Please forget everything I said. Thank you so much for comforting me—

"Are you sure you want me to help, Ms. L/N?” Hongjoong stopped your rambling, taking your hand that you hadn’t realized was trembling from nerves but the moment he spoke and he touched you, your body found a sense of calm. “I just don’t want to make you do anything you’ll regret.”

Oh, he wanted to help.

“I-I wouldn’t have asked anyone else but you...I feel safe with you.” You mumbled shyly, staring at his pretty hand holding yours, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles.

“Your trust in me is something I shall cherish and I wouldn’t dare break it.” He looked you in the eyes as he said that, the warmth and intensity of them made your heart flutter. “I promise I’ll keep it strictly professional and I’ll make sure to put your comfort first.”

Your heart fluttered again. “O-okay.”

“How would you like this to go?”

“I-I’m not sure…Wooyoung usually takes the lead whenever we do anything more than kissing…” you were speaking so softly, it was pulling at Hongjoong’s heartstrings. You were so precious. “I wouldn’t mind you taking the lead…teach me how to make Wooyoung feel good.” You squeezed his hand nervously and he kept his soft smile on his face, hiding his excitement.

You’ll let him take the lead?

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with okay?” He caressed your cheek fondly, forcing himself to not brush your lips with his thumb. “Tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

“Thank you, sir.” You whispered, feeling all tense as he got closer.

Sir? Were you trying to kill him? He scooted closer, your knees touching his own. “Do I have permission to touch you, darling?”

The pet name made you feel just a little bit more hotter. The way he said it, his voice a low purr, made you feel things you thought you’d only feel with Wooyoung.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Experimentally, he slowly glided his hand up the side of your thigh, the sweet gasp falling from your lips making him smirk against your neck. He brushed his lips against your neck, before whispering in your ear. “You’ve watched videos as research, correct?”

You stuttered out your response, feeling your body grow warm with the way his hand smoothed up and down your thigh, never going higher than where your skirt stopped. “I did…” Was it wrong that you wanted his hand to move higher?

Hongjoong held back from kissing your neck, testing the waters of what exactly he could do to you. His hand moved to your waist now, caressing the curve of your side then stopping so that his thumb was just below the underside of your bra covered chest.

“Why don’t you show me what you learned, hm? Then I’ll guide you along the way.” He suggested, his tone going just a little lower than usual.

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, between your professor's trousered thighs, your eyes looking at him with such uncertainty and the willingness to learn.

“Don’t be shy. I’m sure you won't disappoint,” Hongjoong reassured you, petting your head lovingly while his thoughts were going wild at the mere sight of you all cute and demure between his legs.

“O-okay.”

As you had watched and observed, you placed your hands on his thighs. They trembled a little. What if you messed up here too? You shook the thought away. Professor Kim was going to guide you. You’ll be okay and then you’ll be able to make Wooyoung feel good too.

All of this was for Wooyoung.

You slowly slid your hands up his thighs feeling the smooth fabric of his trousers as you recounted the videos you had seen. You remembered how the woman in the video would trace her fingers over the man’s groin…but was Hongjoong even…turned on?

You remember how stiff Wooyoung would get when you were on his lap as you two made out, his hands running up and down your sides then over the curve of your ass, squeezing it.

Do you need to kiss Mr. Kim too?

Before asking, you experimentally softly placed your palm against his groin, blushing to find that he was hot and rather stiff through his pants. A shaky breath escaped him and you retracted your hand.

“W-was that not okay?”

“It was fine,” he managed a smile for you, getting hard at just how shy and sweet you were. “You’re doing fine.”

“O-okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, gliding your palm over his clothed groin before sliding higher, your other hand joining to unbuckle his belt.

Each gentle and inexperienced touch or ghost of your fingers over his crotch was making his cock twitch to life. It was so easy for him to be turned on…well…because it was you. It was endearing how focused yet nervous you were and once you tugged his briefs down low enough for his cock to spring up, your eyes stared at his length.

From his reclined position on the couch, his legs spread to accommodate you, he was able to notice the way your thighs squeezed to tether at the sight of him.

Your face was hot as your eyes took in the sight of his cock. It was way more intimidating to see one in person than on a screen…was it odd for you to think it was rather pretty? The head was a soft pink and it glistened with something that made your tongue somehow itch to want to try and wrap your mouth around him. Would he fit in your mouth? Would he fit in— you stopped yourself from thinking that. You can’t go all the way with Mr. Kim, you were going to do that with Wooyoung.

Feeling his warm gaze on you, you gently wrapped your hand around his length. The feeling of him hot and heavy in your palm, the girth of him, made your core pulse.

Hongjoong bit his lip at the gentle touch, the smoothness of your palm, and the dainty way you held him making him sensitive to whatever you were doing. He knew it wasn’t on purpose that you were prolonging any sort of movement, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Tell me what you learned,” he managed to speak calmly. “Or what you observed.”

Squeezing your thighs together and inching closer to get into a comfortable position, you thought of what to answer. “In the videos…the girls take their partner in their mouth…and some just move their hand…I'm not sure what to do next, I’m sorry.” You looked away, embarrassed.

This was exactly why you never initiated it with Wooyoung. If you did and you messed up or did not even follow through, he would’ve mentioned it to his friends somehow in their talks.

Hongjoong saw how nervous you were and tried to suppress the desire to command you what to do and how you should do it, he placed his hand over yours that was softly holding his cock. He couldn’t be mean to you…as much as he wanted to completely control you and make you feel pleasure that would have you falling apart for him, he wanted to be gentle with you.

“I’ll guide you, okay?” His other hand petted the top of your head, making the nerves yo I had been feeling dwindle. You nodded.

“You have to spit on it first, sweetheart.”

His words made your eyes widen. The dirty notion was embellished with a sweet term of endearment. Hearing it from him, from the mouth where only kindness, care and knowledge was all you heard come out of it, made you feel warm.

“Spit on it?”

“I know it sounds odd but it’ll help. I’ll guide you on how to use your hand first. Don’t be shy, darling.”

His encouragement only made you want to do as he says. You told yourself it only feels weird because you’ve never done it before and Mr. Kim was kind enough to help you be more confident when the time comes for you to do it with your boyfriend.

Leaning over, you collected your saliva and spat softly. Hongjoong bit back any sound that dared escape him at the moment not ready to break the promise of being professional for your sake but the warmth of your spit and how shyly you did it turned him on even more.

“Now,” he guided your hand. “Spread it around with my precum like this.” He loosely moved your hand, letting your dainty fingers be covered by the mix of your spit and his precum. “It’ll be easier to move your hand this way, it’ll feel good.”

You nodded, feeling the slickness against your palm and how it now easily glided along his length with his hand still over yours.

“You have to hold it just a little tighter.” He closed his hand over yours a little tighter but not too tight but just enough to tell you how much pressure you should be applying.

“L-like this?” You adjusted your grip and slowly while your hand moved in slow up and down motions, he removed his hand and a deep sigh of bliss left him.

“Just like that, sweetheart…just like that.” His voice dipped lower and his head rolled back a little, giving you the perfect view of his sharp jawline and pink lips.

Your eyes kept shifting from his face and to his cock in your hand, entranced somehow by the idea of how he was feeling good by just your hand. Watching a video was completely different from actually doing it. You recalled the way a girl in a video would twist her hand as she glided her hand up and down, and you decided to try the motion.

Hongjoong hissed out a curse at the new movement. “That feels good.” His hips bucked up a little, pushing his cock up in your hand.

Feeling a little braver, you leaned forward to press your lips on the head of his cock, kissing it and feeling heat surge to your core at how warm the tip was against your lips.

Hongjoong lifted his head from its thrown back position to look at you, the sudden sensation of your soft lips on his cock turning him on further.

“You want to try that already?” He asked, his hand gripping the armrest of the couch when your doe eyes looked up at him so innocently, your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and nodded, it was driving him crazy. It was getting harder and harder to retain any sense of composure. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me what you learned. You’re already doing so well. You look so cute like this too.”

His words of praise and compliments made both your heart and core throb. It made you try even harder to please him. You wondered if it was okay that you were getting wet. You could feel your slick sticking to the gusset of your panties and against the lips of your pussy.

Hongjoong moaned softly when he felt your hot tongue swirling around his cock head. He twitched within your hand continued their rhythmic twisting and up and down rhythm. He watched as you tasted him. He could see the way your brows furrowed at the taste and when he felt you take more of him in your mouth and suckle at the sensitive tip of his cock, you were making it harder for him to not buck his hips up into your pretty mouth.

“You doing okay?” He asked, gently placing his hand behind the back of your head, caressing you.

You nodded, humming, the vibrations of your sound adding some extra pleasure to the way you were giving him head.

“F-fuck, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”

The way he said that made your pussy clench. Why did that have some effect on you? It sounded so hot coming from him and it made you want to please him even more.

Eventually, you took what you could of him in your mouth, fighting back your gag reflex and bobbing your head shallowly along his cock. Your hand continued to jerk what you couldn’t fit of his length in your little mouth. You were aching so bad, you couldn’t help but let your free hand slide between your thighs to find your pussy, surprised at how wet you were. It was easy to spread your arousal all over your cunt and begin massaging your clit the way you liked, settling for the friction of your fingers.

Hongjoong noticed your dainty hand between your legs. The sight of you suckling and bobbing your cute head up and down along his cock, and touching yourself was sending him to the edge. Plus your lips tinted with pink gloss were mixing with your saliva as you continued to suck him off. You were so fucking cute.

“I’m close darling. You’re doing so well. You had nothing to be so nervous about. F-fuck.” He shuddered when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you squeaked so adorably, the sound muffled. What a cute little slut you were touching yourself as you stuffed your little mouth with his cock. Though he was saying such sweet praises, deep down he wanted to fuck his cock into your mouth and watch you cry from taking him. He was betting you’d look up at him with wide pleading eyes with tears as you let him use you as his personal cock sleeve.

The mere thought of that sent him over the edge and without warning, he came. A small squeak left you as sudden hot spurts of cum spilled into your mouth. You latched off of him in surprise, your hand still pumping him as he came. His moans and the way his head was thrown back, made you stop touching yourself so you could focus fully on the way he climaxed all over your face.

“Fuck!” He groaned as his hand that was cradling your head gripped your hair and his hips bucked up into your hand, riding out his high. You whimpered as he tugged at your hair, the sensation making your clit throb. Why did that feel good? Why did having his release on your cheeks and in your mouth, turned you on?

“Open up, darling. Let me see.” Hongjoong tugged your hair back almost forcibly, his gaze almost predatory, it scared you a bit. You’ve never seen such a dark, menacing yet charming expression on your sweet and kind professor.

You parted your lips and he smirked.

He wondered if you knew just how cute and ruined your look right now. Pink gloss smeared over your lips and your cheeks flushed and stained with his white sticky cum, and the best of all, his seed was on your tongue.

He wished he could take a picture.

You didn’t realize you were breathing slowly as your heart was racing and he stared down at you with a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place.

“You look so pretty like this, darling.” His grip on your hair loosened and his hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb dipping into your mouth as you still obediently kept your lips parted for him. He smeared more of his cum all over your lips and chin, finding the idea of him on your skin so hot…it’s like he marked you. “Such a good girl.” He cooed and you didn’t know why you did what you did but you swallowed his salty release, and his reaction made it all worth it. “What a perfect girl you are.”

His praise only made your heart flutter, his words only feeding that part of you that wanted to please him…to please Wooyoung.

“D-do you think Woo will like it?” You asked, your voice a little hoarse as you sat there on your knees, looking up at him so sweetly.

Hongjoong held back from rolling his eyes at the mention of the boy who didn’t deserve you. He masked his annoyance with a smile. “He’ll like it, darling. You did really well. I mean it.” He took his handkerchief and began to clean you up, gently dabbing your cheek.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you couldn’t stop the way a smile grew on your face at the approval from your most trusted mentor.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kim—

“Hongjoong.” He cut you off with a gentle smile, looking at you lovingly.

“What?” You stuttered that same feeling you felt earlier, the confusion of the same way he made your heart flutter like Wooyoung does.

“You can call me Hongjoong when it’s just the two of us, darling. I think with how close we’ve gotten…I’d like you to call me by my name. Don’t you think we’re rather close?”

There was something about his eyes that captivated you. It was so magnetic it was hard to not be completely wonderstruck and in control of that powerful gaze.

All you could do was nod.

“That’s a good girl…” he cooed, smiling warmly. “Perhaps, you need more guidance. You want to be a good girlfriend for your Wooyoung right?”

You did, you wanted to be the best girlfriend for him.

“I do…”

“Sometimes what you see online is not entirely reliable. I’m offering you…private lessons…doesn’t that sound good for you?”

You nodded, letting him pull you up on and onto his lap, gasping when your core pressed against his thigh.

“I’ll teach you all there is to know. I want what's best for you and for you to know exactly what you’re getting into.” He ran his hand up and down your thigh, slowly. “You don’t want to disappoint Wooyoung, right?”

“I don’t Sir…” you said so quickly.

So innocent. So naive. So dumb. So perfect for him to ruin.

He never thought he’d get to this point.

All this time, he has only ever admired you and desired you from afar. He kept his reputation as a well-loved and kind professor so that no one and you, especially you, would ever question his motives.

“Now, I think we should try this again. You did really well but I can teach you a little extra something that will make your boyfriend so, so, so happy.”

feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly fangirl with you and I love feedback. It keeps me writing.

special tags : @khjcs @skteezcursed @caityelise99

[bizbat]

When They're In Love - Jason Todd - 2

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms used for reader.

~ Mild smut.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part three here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ Thank you to @the-best-of-the-myrmidona for requesting more When They're In Love Headcanons for Jason Todd!

~ SFW ~

He likes to sit with his head between your legs, in any context.

He likes when you massage his scalp with your legs dangling over his broad shoulders.

He loves it when you wear his clothes.

His heart always stops for a moment when he sees you come out of the shower, drying your hair with a towel, dressed in one of his shirts that just barely reaches down to your thighs, and rises as you reach up to take care of your wet hair.

Loves seeing your thighs.

He gives real "victorian man seeing an ankle" energy.

He loves feeling you against him.

He needs to feel your skin or your body pressing against his or he will have a bad day.

I feel like he always smells good, even if he doesn't smell good, yk?

Like even when he comes home smelling like blood, smoke, and gasoline, his natural musk probably still stands out.

Always catches him off guard when you wanna hug him before he showers.

He can't help but laugh when you bury your face into his chest to inhale more of his scent.

He likes it when you play with his hair, but also likes to play in yours.

Straight, wavy, curly, coiled, long, short, shaved.

He don't care.

Lay on his chest and let him play with your hair, now!

I think he can cook, but that he doesn't know a lot of recipes. He reads a lot of cookbooks though, so he always wants to try something new with you.

I think he always wants to impress you, but he wants to be lowkey abt it.

First time you come over his place, he scrubs every single square inch till it sparkles, but he'll throw a shirt over the couch, or leave out a plate, or something, so he can be all "Sorry about the mess, haha".

Like a loser smh.

I think he'd ask Alfred for a recipe that will be impressive, but not too hard or complicated.

I didn't include it in the last set of hcs, but im putting it here.

Jason would absolutely want to rescue a pet with you, I'm thinking either a massive black dog, or an old cat that has no teeth and has outlived three owners.

Something that needs love and hasn't been given it.

But, I also think he'd put it off bc he wants to be able to give it his full attention.

If he found the right ball of fur and teeth though, I think he might be compelled to take it home with him.

He loves to take naps. Especially with you.

I think it's his way of being vulnerable.

He'd let you touch his scars.

I don't think they'd be sensitive physically, but maybe they'd be sore reminders of his lack of a normal life.

That's why it's so special that he lets you of all people touch them.

~ NSFW ~

Loves loves loves kisses.

Let Me explain.

When he's got you on your back, your eyes glazed over and completely unfocused, his favorite thing to do is lean down, squeeze your cheeks until your lips pucker, and give you lots of sloppy kisses.

He doesn't mind all the drool, in fact, it kinda adds to it.

He'll wipe away the tears sliding down your cheeks with his thumb, before popping it into your mouth, letting you suck it off, before slipping his tongue between your lips so he can taste your sweat tears too.

He's so condensing too. :(

Mean, mean man.

Calls you names, likes to smack, spits.

I think he likes to display his strength, probably holds you up as he thrusts into you, no matter your weight.

I keep writing abt him and he's starting to grow on me smh.😒

Okay that's all for now! <3

[maislovebot]

200 followers event: atsushi x reader

Here’s the m.list for my 200 followers event!!

I hope you enjoy it, goat!! I really don’t like how it turned out, idk why:( smh I think I have to practice writing fanfic more because I’ve been writing a actual book (like multiple chapter long story filled with lore) for my creative writing class and I think it’s making my ff writing suffer😭

Contains: afab + no prns, Atsu calls you ‘pretty’ and ‘dear’, fluff+smut, cuddling:3, slow and sensual, he acts like a little house cat, kinda switch dynamics, Atsu is mostly the dom though, reader calls him ‘Atsu’’, you tease him a lil, reader is wearing shorts, nipple stim, he marks you up (hickies, little nibbles, etc), mentions of you marking him but it doesn’t explicitly happen, brief oral (reader receiving)/cunnilingus, ‘gotta stay quiet’ trope, but not like voyeurism or anything, y’all just live in an apartment and it’s late, accidental teasing/orgasm denial, fingering (reader receiving), implied praise (reader receiving), against the wall, creampie, breeding kink if you really squint, overstim, multiple orgasms, aftercare, pillow talk

11:53 pm. It was 11:53 pm, and Atsushi knew that because it was so late that he should be sleeping, but he couldn’t help but keep chatting away with you.

You were facing one another, talking about miscellaneous things, with no real pattern. Atsushi was looking at you with pure adoration on his face, smiling whenever he saw your eyes staring right into his. Your smile was so comforting, he pulled you close to look at it a little closer. You giggled at this, bringing yourself over top of him to lay on his chest. You laid your head next to his, scratching his scalp. He curled into your touch, laying his hand on your waist to keep you in place. Your knee dug between his thighs, grinding against him slightly, making his eyes shut tight. You hadn’t even noticed you were doing it until Atsushi had started making noises in your ear, noises that sounded like a strange mix of whines and purrs?

“It’s so cute when you purr, Atsu.” You mumbled, breathing into his neck. You dug your knee deeper into his crotch and his arms trembled slightly while he brought his hands down to your sides.

“Ha—stop teasing me..” Atsushi groaned. You giggled again, trailing your hand down to his thighs to lightly caress them. Atsushi trailed his hand under your shirt, slowly snaking up your back. His hands were cold, as they always were. His body was always warm, bubbling, almost. But his hands and feet were always freezing. The cool contrast against your burning skin felt nice.

As he traced along your back, rubbing and scratching it, you slowly stopped your teasing, focusing more on his hands on you. He trailed his free hand down, pulling your pajama shorts and underwear to the side. You gasped, gripping his shoulders tight when he grazed his finger over your clit with the slightest of pressure.

“Bold move, Atsu.” You giggled.

Atsushi tilted his head up to face you, “sorry, dear. It’s too tempting.” Atsushi grinned.

He began applying more pressure to your clit, trailing his other hand down to rest in the waistband of your shorts. He slowly pulled your shorts down, and you lifted yourself up to aid it. Your shorts were collecting at your knees, and he grinned when you gripped the waistband of his pants as well.

“You want me quite a bit, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded, “it’s late. We’ve been talking all night. Kyouka isn’t here. It seems like the perfect time.”

Atsushi nodded, “I agree, don’t worry.”

He cupped the undersides of your knees, pulling you up to meet his face. You ruffled a hand in his hair, kissing him deep. You were straddling Atsushi, laying over top of him while the both of you progressively slid your pants off.

By the time you two were done kissing, you were out of breath, and you’d both managed to kick your pants off of your legs, leaving them somewhere under your covers that neither of you cared to search for.

Atsushi lifted you off of the bed, gripping the underside of your knees tight again. You were surprised that he’d picked you up, as the bed was so warm, but you didn’t question it. You knew you’d both be warm soon.

He pushed you against a wall, kissing you yet again.

You mumbled something through Atsushi’s lips about his body being warm, but he didn’t hear. He was preoccupied. He wrapped his arms around your waist, as did you, holding the both of you in place.

Atsushi was breathing heavily now, touching the tip of your tongue with his. His cheeks were flushed and he was almost putting his full body weight against you to keep you against the wall, before he grabbed both of your hands and held them against the wall. Atsushi held your hands on either side of your hips, slowly dragging them up the wall and over his shoulders, with one hand tangling in his hair. Atsushi was satisfied with that, letting go of your hands and gripping one of your legs yet again and lifting it up.

Atsushi finally paused to take a look at the scene he created, and he turned red when he looked into your eyes and saw how desperate you were. Your eyes were half lidded and almost steamy looking. His eyes slowly trailed down, and he ran his thumb over your chest.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” you joked. He chuckled, leaning down. “Sorry, I can’t help but stare.” He bent his arm to keep holding your thigh, although the position was a bit awkward because he was leaning down and tracing over your clothed chest at eye level. You reached down and took off your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, then your hand took purchase in Atsushi’s hair again. Atsushi nodded appreciatively, kissing your side quickly.

“Thank you,”

He mumbled your name under his breath while he kissed across your chest, before taking your nipple in his mouth. Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling him closer to your chest.

“Hnn..Atsu,” you tilted your head back, his hands tracing your hips and sides making you shiver. Partially from his cold his hands were, and partially because of the sensations. His hands were all over you, trying to touch as much of you as he could.

He slowly trailed over to the other side of your chest, taking the other through his slim fingers. You noticed the small red splotches along your chest where he was licking, and you sighed playfully. At least they were hidden. You really did want him to mark you, there was no better feeling, but it was always embarrassing to explain it to your friends the next day.

Atsushi seemed to be lost in thought, all of his thoughts were focused on your body. He may not admit it, but there’s a part of him that wants to mark you up. There was a part of him that was proud when people noticed his marks. Sure, Dazai teasing him endlessly was always shameful, but the fact that people knew how good he made you feel from the nibbles and licks left on your body made him feel cocky, an emotion he was not used to feeling.

He also took pride in the marks you left on him. The scratches that were vaguely visible on his arms and the back of his neck. The ruffles in his hair after Atsushi had left his apartment in the morning, leaving everyone wondering if he didn’t brush his hair or if you had given him a rather special goodbye. The small marks that you’d given him on his neck from the night before. It was all too much.

He wasn’t thinking about what was going to be on you or him tomorrow though, right now he was focusing on you. On you and the kisses he was leaving all over you as he trailed down your stomach. He heard the small noises that left your throat as you ruffled his hair, and he nibbled on your thighs to get a reaction out of you. You gasped when he lifted your leg up slightly, just enough to gently bite between your thighs. He wasn’t exactly biting hard, but it was certainly visible. Especially because he had little fangs, presumably from his ability. He trailed across your thighs, then he placed his hand between your thighs to gently rest on you. He licked small stripes up your cunt, moaning quietly at the flavor.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm..” you mumbled.

Atsushi held your thigh up just enough to slightly hinder your movement, taking notice of your small whines and gentle moans. You were trying to be quiet because it was so late, especially because the wall Atsushi had decided to pin you up against was the wall connected to Dazai’s room, and if he figured out what was going on, you both would never hear the end of it. It was hard though. So hard. Especially when Atsushi had started licking small circles to your clit, collecting spit on his tongue to make it feel even better.

“Feel good?” Atsushi whispered.

“Y-yes, Atsu. Keep—keep going.”

Atsushi nodded into your cunt, lifting your leg up slightly higher so he could get a better angle. He was more or less under you now, pulling you down onto his face by the hips while he ate you out. The sudden movement made you whine out, and Atsushi listened to his surroundings intently to make sure no one was overhearing the both of you. Atsushi didn’t seem to notice anything, so he kept going.

His movements were slow, a vast contrast compared to his normally fast paced and relentless speed he liked to set. You could tell he was tired and it was hindering his movements, but he was also in a different mood tonight. He wanted to savor every second with you. Maybe it was because he had a mission in a week, so he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, or maybe it was just what that night was calling for. Either way, he was taking things slow and you loved it.

Atsushi’s tongue was making you feel so good that you began to subconsciously grind against his face, taking him by the hair, trying to pull him closer. Atsushi was gripping your hips tight, leaving small finger-sized bruises where they were. He normally grabbed your hips even harder, but his tired and exhausted body was making him sufficiently less strong than he’d normally be.

Atsushi’s face was sticky and wet by the time he pulled away. You were so close to the edge that you groaned maybe a little too loud when he pulled away.

“Sorry, dear. I’ll make it up to you.” Atsushi grinned from the floor, looking up at you with bright, tired eyes. You nodded, looking at him wipe his face with his fingers, before using what was originally on his face as lube. The mix of your precum and his spit turned out to be a good substitute. He prodded at your entrance, before slowly pushing two of his fingers inside of you. You gasped at the feeling, as did he. His mind couldn’t help but wander to thoughts of what you’ll feel like on him.

He started off with slowly letting you get used to the feeling, before pumping his fingers inside of you. He spread his fingers apart, watching as you tossed your head back and gripped his hair tighter. As Atsushi stretched you out, he brought his head forward and began to leave small kisses to your hips. He would occasionally accentuate the kiss by staying there for a few extra moments, sucking on the skin softly and leaving small red marks.

Atsushi mumbled something you couldn’t hear, but you could make out one word, that being ‘pretty’.

You couldn’t tell if Atsushi was complimenting you or trying to get your attention because he would call you pretty as a nickname, and also just in general. The idea of not knowing which one he was doing made you chuckle.

“So pretty,” Atsushi mumbled.

You smiled fondly, playing with his hair before tossing your head back again as he curled his fingers up into that spot. That one spot that made your breath hitch and your vision go white. He began to rub circles into your clit with his thumb as well. You could feel yourself getting close again, and it was even faster when approaching this time. You clenched your thighs around his hand, before quickly coming undone. Atsushi slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you, helping to aid you through your orgasm.

“Hah..Atsushi, that was really good.”

“Really?” Atsushi pushed farther, needing more praise, craving more praise, per usual.

“Really. Just your hands were able to make my thighs shake,” you pointed down to your thighs comically. “Imagine what else you can do.”

Atsushi nodded enthusiastically, jumping up off the floor and standing in front of you, kissing you yet again. He trailed down your neck, and you jumped slightly when he nibbled on your neck, a very obvious spot, but you were too tired at this point. He was making you feel good, and that was all that mattered right now. You could deal with all that other stuff later.

Atsushi ran his hand down your side, purring again when you scratched his head. It wasn’t necessarily loud purring like you’d hear from a real house cat, but it was certainly audible. He buried his head in your neck again, grinding against you as you pet his hair. With his head still buried in the crook of your neck, he gripped your right thigh again to hold you up. You were open and exposed to him at this angle, and it made you shiver. You could feel him pressing against your skin, his skin was rough, but strange enough, you liked the feeling. He lifted you up a little bit by grabbing your hips, but not high enough for you to make a large impact if you fell.

You reached your hand forward, collecting his precum in the palm of your hand and jerking him off slightly, just enough to get him nice and wet. Atsushi whimpered slightly at the feeling, digging his head further into your shoulder, biting it slightly. The bite hurt a little, making you whine as well.

“A-Atsu, that hurts..”

He nodded, no longer biting you.

“Sorry, your hand just feels really, really good.”

You chuckled a little, quickly being cut off as Atsushi pistoned towards your cunt, looking you in the eyes for validation, before seeing you nod and bring your hand down to his hips to push him forward. He aligned his tip with your entrance, slowly pushing inside.

“So—tight,” Atsushi slurred his words a little.

“Mhm..”

You both stood there for a few moments as Atsushi slowly bottomed out inside of you, before finally reaching the hilt.

“Good?” Atsushi asked.

“Yeah..please move, Atsu.”

Atsushi always loved when you called him Atsu. How it rolled off your tongue, how sweet you were when you called him it, how intimate it was. He loved it all.

He throbbed a little at the nickname, following your orders and briefly starting off slow, before progressively gaining speed. Whenever his hips met yours you saw stars.

You lost your breath as he gained speed, and Atsushi held your hips forward so your hips wouldn’t hit the wall and make noise, but it made the penetration even deeper than you would’ve expected. The feeling made you whine into Atsushi’s ear, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Does it feel good?”

You didn’t respond, just grabbing Atsushi’s hair to hold him in your neck.

“Well?”

“Mhm..s-so good, ‘Tsu.”

Atsushi grinned, gripping your hips tighter while sliding down your thigh and onto your knee for easier access. You brought your hand down to rub small circles on your clit, and Atsushi throbbed when he looked down and saw the sight. You looked so desperate. So desperate to cum. The stimulation to your clit made you tighten around him, and he moaned slightly at the feeling.

“F-fuck..trying so hard to keep quiet right now..!”

With everything going on, you could feel yourself getting close. It was so much. So much was going on, you could feel your body heating up and trembling. The beads of sweat forming on your forehead were making you look even more delectable in Atsushi’s eyes and he could see that you were close too from your heavy breathing and trembling thighs. You clamped your leg that was suspended in the air around Atsushi’s waist, and Atsushi held it there. Keeping it in place.

He kept at the same speed, although the vigor in his movements was going up. He was struggling to hold your hips in place, but he had to. He couldn’t let your hips hit the wall.

You moaned maybe a little too loud as your orgasm reached its peak, then you slumped back against the wall as gently as you could. You tried to catch your breath for a few moments, but Atsushi didn’t give you a break. He kept going in a desperate attempt to come, before he finally reached his peak as well. He came inside of you, letting your leg down and wrapping his arms around your waist as his legs shook. Atsushi sat there for a few moments, watching as his cum dripped down your thighs and he almost immediately picked up speed again at the sight.

“Hnn—Atsu—too much!”

“Please, just one more..!” Atsushi begged, writhing in your ear. “After this I’ll be done, I promise.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close. You were slowly making your way up the wall, and Atsushi held your hips in place with his own.

He kept going at it, he couldn’t stop even if he tried. He was addicted. Feeling you clench around him desperately and bury your face in his neck drove him crazy. He couldn’t last long, the previous orgasm already building up again.

“Ahh—‘m close again..!” Atsushi blurted out.

You nodded, whining as Atsushi brought his hand down to play with your clit. You were avoiding giving it any stimulation in hopes of avoiding too much overstimulation, but it seems like Atsushi had other ideas.

It honestly wasn’t anything new. Atsushi would always get so desperate from feeling you come around him, and from looking at you shut your eyes tight as you rode out your orgasm. The way your face would change and contort as you reached the peak of your orgasm drove him crazy. This would make it so he could almost never stop after just one round. He had to see all of these different factors on your face as much as he possibly could. Especially because the faces you’d make would only get more intense the more overstimulated you got.

“You can take it, right? You can take me?”

“Mhm!” You whined out, gripping his shoulders tighter and scratching at his skin.

Atsushi nodded, increasing speed and taking your clit between his fingers, watching you squirm. Your thighs started to shake again, and Atsushi gripped one of your thighs to keep it in place.

You mumbled something about being close in Atsushi’s ear, but he hardly processed it. He kept the same speed, barely keeping your hips from banging into the wall with each thrust.

You finally got close, and your thighs tightened around Atsushi’s hips as you tried to stabilize yourself. Atsushi froze for a split second when he felt how tight you were around him, but he didn’t pause for long before he was back at it and he was cumming again with a quiet cry. His hips completely slowed, but he kept rubbing circles on your clit to drive you over the edge.

You finally came undone, your muscles tensing for a few moments before your entire body slouched. You probably could’ve handled more under different circumstances, but the fact you had to remain quiet and you were already exhausted from the long day you had, you had to tap out. It made every orgasm you had even more intense. Not to mention if you stayed up much later you and Atsushi would most certainly regret it in the morning.

Atsushi got the message, slowly pulling out of you, watching as his cum dripped down your thighs yet again. He knew he couldn’t, but he had to resist every urge to kneel down between your thighs and clean you right up. He held you close, walking you backwards and onto the bed. He watched you breathe heavily as you sat down on the bed, catching your breath. He laid down next to you, pulling you close to him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You did good,” Atsushi mumbled.

You turned over and wrapped your legs around his frame, pressing your face into his neck.

“So did you.”

You and Atsushi laid there for a few minutes, and he heard your breathing get heavier, indicating you had fallen asleep. He didn’t want to wake you up, but he couldn’t sit in this sticky mess for much longer. He shook you gently, and you rustled the sheets slightly before waking up again.

“Ah sorry..it’s just late.” You said.

Atsushi looked over and checked the clock. 12:50. It really was late. He was definitely going to be groggy tomorrow.

Atsushi smiled at you, sitting up as he placed his hand on your back so you could sit up with him. The brief moment where he was sitting up and you were still lying down is where he really noticed how many marks he had left on you. He blushed out of embarrassment when he saw how your neck was littered with love bites.

You didn’t seem to mind though.

You and Atsushi made your way to the shower, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake anyone up. The shower was rather quick, but Atsushi enjoyed every second of it. Once you two were out, you laid down on your bed and wrapped yourself up in all of your blankets, Atsushi laying right next to you.

You two both fell asleep in moments, but not before Atsushi whispered into your ear.

“Goodnight.”

Wc - 3.5k

Atsushi 100% has little fangs because of his special ability

[adoremexxs]

Can you pretty please write a part 3 of the Sekido story? But no smut pretty please?? 🥺🙏🙏🙏

of course my pookie 🙄 and get that König pfp outta here smh blowing up my phone abt him!

Modern!Sekido x reader

warnings: uhhh feeling guilty??, kissing, this is just fluffy tbh

Sekido was utterly obsessed with you.

He would never admit that though.

The way that you move, the way that you talk, how kind you are, how beautiful you are, how compassionate you get whenever you are talking about your favorite hobby.

Sekido loves it all.

He doesn’t deserve an angel like you.

His feelings for his ex still remained incredibly strong but his feelings for you were just as strong.

He felt guilty.

He still was in love with his ex but this beautiful lady that he was seeing was so kind and compassionate and wasn’t cold to him.

You guys weren’t…dating or anything. You were just more so friends and you hung out almost everyday.

Just like today! You were going over to his house! You were so excited and you had to pick your very best outfit.

He said that his brothers wouldn’t be home so it would just be you two.

Of course, you have to wear something that makes your curves stand out and make you look all cute. You fixed your hair, your makeup and your outfit before hurrying to his house.

.

.

.

The Hantengu brother house had been renovated. Sekido had been saving up money to fix up the old house, he told you this. He worked a bunch while also going to college. You admired him. He works so hard to take care of him and his brothers.

You muster up the courage to walk up to the door but before you could knock, Sekido opened the door and he had a small smile on his face.

“(Y/N)…”

“Hi, Sekido!” You take a moment to check him out. He was wearing a black compression shirt. You were about to fold in half in all honesty. Even though it’s 100 degree weather, he was wearing long sleeves. You weren’t going to question why. You already knew the answer.

He was also wearing grey sweatpants. Oh boy. You definitely were admiring his body before he awkwardly coughs, his face flushing as red as his eyes.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Yes!”

.

.

.

The renovations were so nice. You could tell that Sekido spent his life savings on this house. While you were busy admiring the house, Sekido was getting you a glass of water.

“So, uh, (Y/N)-“

“Can I see your room?” Sekido looked a bit shocked by that as he hands you your water. You immediately downed it, looking so excited to see his room.

“Uhm, sure. This way.”

His room was clean. Very…clean. It almost unsettled you and Sekido awkwardly stood there as you examined his room before falling onto his bed.

His face reddened even more as the skirt you wore rode up and he quickly looked away. “Do you like it…?”

“Mhm! It’s so cozy and clean.” You rolled onto your back, looking up at him. “Come join me, Seki.”

Sekido shuffled towards you, sitting down his bed. You pout and sit up, grabbing ahold of his hand just to hold onto it. You knew that he appreciated any little physical touch you gave him. It’s what he constantly craved for.

“(Y/N)…” Sekido started, avoiding eye contact with you, “What are we?”

You blink in surprise. You didn’t really know how to approach this but you decided to take it slow and steady.

“I would like to be more than friends, if you want to.”

“Like dating?”

“Yes, Sekido.” You brush a strand of hair behind his ear, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I like you a lot.”

Sekido was silent before you saw the tears watering in his eyes.

“Seki, don’t cry!”

“(Y/N)…I’m still in love with my ex…I…I don’t want to hurt you…I like you a lot too but she just…I don’t know…She was my first everything and you are too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” The tears fell from his eyes. Sekido was usually a man who kept his feelings to himself and always acted angrily but with you, he melted.

He let his sensitive side show constantly with you. Sekido would hold you in his arms from time to time. You would never protest. It was comforting to have someone in his arms knowing they wouldn’t leave but at the same time, he was scared that you were going to leave like his ex.

You immediately pull him into your embrace, laying down on his back and letting Sekido rest his head on your chest. “Sekido, I don’t care if you still love her and still want her. I’m willingly to wait for you. You don’t know how much you mean to me, Seki. I will wait forever for you if that is what it takes. You are a good person. You are enough. You didn’t deserve that treatment from her and your brother. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Your words warmed Sekido’s heart. You could feel his body trembling and his lip quivering as those tears fell from his pretty eyes. He was such a beautiful crier. Hell, he’s beautiful in general. He didn’t say anything as you play with his hair, letting him hug you and cry into you.

Sekido couldn’t express how much he appreciated you and was so thankful that you came into his life. You made him so happy just by being his friend and comforting him.

“I will wait for you, Sekido.” You reassure him again.

You went to say something else but you were cut off by Sekido’s lips crashing onto yours. Your yelp was muffled but you didn’t resist him. His swollen eyes and nose with tear streaks down his face was too cute to resist.

Sekido had gently bit your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring every crevice. You allowed him, returning the same hungry energy back. You felt his nails dig into your shoulders and pull you closer to him. He was scared that you were going to leave him.

After a bit, he pulled away, his face flushed and a string of saliva still connecting your lips as he panted for air.

“Please,” His voice trembled and cracked as he begged you, “don’t ever leave. Please just wait for me, (Y/N).”

You smile at him, panting for your own air. You cup his face again.

“I will wait for you, Sekido. Don’t worry.”

[jamminvroomvroom]

muse.

photographer!ln x fem!reader

hello and welcome back to my lando brain rot! this bitch and his hobbies forcing me to write things smh. n e wayz, had this idea for a while so i hope you enjoy it! as always, feedback is very much appreciated, ily!

warnings: 18+!! smut, it’s aaaaall smut babes, general sex acts, a bit of choking bc i’m touch starved, language

3.3k words

the clicking of the camera kept your senses heightened, the faint buzz of the lens focusing and refocusing ringing dully in your ears. your skin tingled as he took picture after picture, his intense stare manipulating you into any position he wanted. lip between his teeth, eyes narrowed, fingers working over the settings; he had you right where he wanted you.

the clicking of the camera kept your senses heightened, the faint buzz of the lens focusing and refocusing ringing dully in your ears. your skin tingled as he took picture after picture, his intense stare manipulating you into any position he wanted. lip between his teeth, eyes narrowed, fingers working over the settings; he had you right where he wanted you.

the dim lighting of his penthouse, or his studio, as he liked to modestly call it, set the mood. you contorted yourself against the wall as he continued to shoot, mumbling faint praise. “good girl” had you crumbling. his glazed over eyes as the two words slipped out let you know that he’d intended to keep them to himself. you wondered how long this would last, how long either of you would be able to carry on before he was pressing you into the wall himself.

you thought about how you’d gotten here, back to mere hours ago, finally meeting him in a coffee shop around the corner. the man, the mystery, the artist that had everyone’s attention in a vice-like grip. how he’d found you, why he wanted you, you had no idea, but he’d made it happen. a mutual friend had paved the way, getting you to agree to let the photographer work with you, and the rest was history. four hours ago, he’d bought you a coffee, somewhat shyly trying to explain himself, his vision of you. four short hours later and the man before you was different, in his element, suddenly transformed into the kind of guy that calls you a good girl without making your skin crawl. rather, your skin was on fire, and you were burning. all for him, under his skilful eye.

suddenly you turned your back to him, hands running across the plaster of the wall as you switched positions. you threw him a look over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes, a look of come and get me, a dare, an invitation. he did nothing but smirk at your allure, dropping into a crouch to snap you from a different angle. he was below you, on his knees to capture your radiance that he’d stumbled upon, completely by chance.

you stayed like that for a few moments, adjusting yourself, arching your back, taunting him. you were growing impatient, wondering how long you would be holding off the inevitable. you decided to make your move.

“how do you want me?” you put on your most sultry voice, looking down at him over your shoulder.

he hummed to himself, pondering the endless list of ways that he wanted you. standing up from the floor, he took the bait, creeping towards you. your eyes remained locked as he made his way closer to you until you couldn’t bare the intensity any longer. you turned your head to face the wall, feeling the whispers of breath hitting your nearly exposed shoulder. his fingers grazed your neck, collecting stray hairs and pushing them out of his way.

“that’s a good question,” he mumbled, chin sitting atop your shoulder, words vibrating across the skin. “with so many possible answers.” he continued, lips bumping your earlobe.

his chest was flush to your back, one hand grazing your waist, while the other loosely held the expensive camera. you were sure it was worth more than your apartment, but he didn’t seem to care, the device held carelessly between his fingers. it was as if he’d placed more value in you instead, with the way he delicately caressed your body.

you were still trying to wrap your head around what the “many possible answers” to your question were, mind wild with impurity, when his lips hit your skin. warm and plush against curve of your neck, you melted, head tipping back as you sighed in relief.

he pressed faint kisses to your shoulder with the fullness of his lips, leaving you mindless, dizzy. that’s when he let his actions creep up on you, his hand holding the camera slowly rising until it was level with your head. your mouth was hung open, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, dull ecstasy, and then the flash disoriented you. he hummed amusedly, lips now firm against your neck, teeth nipping and tongue soothing as he continued to snap away, angling the camera to capture your face and the few messy curls of his that tickled your jawline.

it was a slap in the face when he pulled away, your body collapsing into the wall at the loss of his forcefield holding you against him. the only trace of him was the reddening marks on your neck, not a hand on your waist, nor the fanning of his breath. you turned around, frustrated, searching for him. he was already sprawled out on his expensive grey couch, toying with the camera once more. his eyes were fixated on the small screen, smirk widening and pupils dilating further as he flicked through the pictures.

“done with me already?” you huffed. it was bold and presumptuous. you couldn’t care less. you weren’t leaving until you were done with him. he sniggered, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“not even close.” he smiled a full smile, devious and confident. your stomach dropped. just what had you gotten yourself into?

“i don’t like being ignored.” you raised an eyebrow, playfully unimpressed.

“trust me, sweetheart, you have all of my attention.” he almost deadpanned, as if it was obvious.

you pushed yourself off of the wall, giving in to your desires. it was a shame, you wanted him to cave first but you would make do. you strutted towards him stopping when you were stood between his spread legs, hand on your hip, your body demanding his attention. he looked up at you, lip caught between his teeth, a cruel glimmer of amusement in his eyes that sent a jolt of heat through your body, straight to where you wished he’d touch you.

“prove it.” you breathed, faltering at the way he was eyeing you.

one of his hands dropped off of the camera and he sat up, reaching for you. he grazed the skimpy strap of your dress, dragging it down your shoulder. it fell away easily.

“where exactly do you want my attention?” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours. you shuddered. your dress was falling further and he would soon know how little you had on underneath it.

“everywhere.” you moaned, greedy for everything, desperate to be indulged by him.

he couldn’t resist any longer, abandoning the straps of your dress. you were on top of him before you knew it, firmly on his lap, his hands holding you tightly against him. he was kissing you and you made quick work of returning the gesture. it was needy, filthy, all teeth and heavy tongues hungry for more. your hips ground into his, a slow drag, your desperation for one another on full display as you moved to get impossibly closer. it contrasted with the vicious kiss, which he suddenly pulled away from.

you almost whined in frustration, until you felt one of his hands dance up your spine until it was wound in your hair, your head involuntarily tipping back to meet his tugs. you grinned deliriously as he reached blindly for his camera, never looking away from you. you could tell how this was going to go, a well documented evening, and it sent a rush of wetness to your core that you were sure he’d soon be able to feel.

you were in a daze. click, click, click went the camera. it was intoxicating, the way he held you, hips bucking into yours to remind you to keep moving when you got a bit too lost. you must have looked broken, but you figured that was part of the appeal, the way you lost control. it was blissful, the pleasure you felt, just from having all of his attention on you.

his hand in your hair untangled itself, snaking down the back of your neck and around. his fingertips had barely grazed your throat before you were leaning further into him, craving the squeeze, mentally picturing just how good this would look on his roll of film. his huge hands, the ring he wore, your eyes rolled back; what a sight. you let the image in your head take over as you got what you wanted, his hand wrapped deliciously around your neck.

click, click, click.

you sped up your hips and he tightened his grip, your legs quivering as you worked together to create your own personal art form. he was growing distracted, not even looking at what kind of photos he was taking, unbothered about angles and lighting. he just kept the device fixed on you, knowing that he was getting exactly what he’d intended. the messy reality of coming undone.

you knew you were flushed, rocking yourself against him faster, relentless, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders. you were half exposed to him, back arching as your clit hit the rough material of his jeans. your whines were met by a squeeze of his hand. you chest poked out and he took the opportunity to get your dress even further off of you. with no hands available, he leaned in, catching the low neckline of the silky material between his teeth. slowly, eyes fixed teasingly on yours, he began to pull, coaxing the material off of your writhing body. it was a sinful sight, your limited breath hitching as you watched him in awe.

you were braless, the silk grazing your nipples as it fell further and further down your body. the shiver down your spine was all-encompassing. you slipped your arms out rapidly, letting the dress pool at your waist. one hand found the back of his head, tangling in his curls, while the other grabbed at his shoulder, tugging futilely. you weren’t sure what you needed, frantic for anything that felt good. he wasn’t disappointing. his finger never left the trigger and you were completely at his mercy.

the world turned upside down, the camera clunked against the coffee table, he was on top of you. he pressed against you, heavy and languid, like you’d been submerged in honey. sticky and slow, sweet. how had you made it through life without this experience? it seemed unimaginable. his lips were still on yours and you were falling and sinking all at once.

“no more pictures, darling.” he was somehow still kissing you as he said it, a messy, low mumble that echoed the clashing of teeth.

“why?” you mumbled back, the word as broken as his. you bucked your hips into his, a gesture that was supposed to signal that the camera was a more than welcome addition to your activities.

“because this,” his lips melted down your neck, bites blossoming red as he licked across your collarbone. “this is for us.” he punctuated with a harsh grind against your core, fingers splaying across your thigh, which he swiftly hooked over his hip.

your head hit the sofa cushions, eyes rolled to the back of your head. his hand made slow traces up your thigh and underneath your dress, now more or less a skirt. the lace of your underwear was no match for his calloused hands, the ripping of the fabric music to your ears. your collarbone was abandoned, tongue swirling around your nipple instead, the heaving of your chest doing nothing but spur him on. his fingers struck gold between your spread thighs, tracing the seams of your cunt. you could feel him against your thigh, harder and harder and closer and closer to where you wanted him.

he spread you open, one finger easing through your wetness, quickly followed by another. he didn’t waste any time, fucking you, fingers curling, a fast grind that blurred your vision. you were still clawing at his shoulders and gasping for air, the shirt he was wearing being ripped up his torso. his mouth begrudgingly paused its journey across your tits so that you could pull the creased, white article off of his toned body, before quickly resuming his work. you let yourself explore the smooth planes of his body, the tanned ripples that pulled taut while he explored you.

“more.”

“more?”

“lando, i need more.”

it was the first time you’d uttered his name, escaping your mouth in an animalistic plead. it drove him insane, something too human, too possessive taking a hold of him, and in that moment he wanted to give you everything. his name sounded too good falling from your lips and to him, that meant something. the sheer want in your voice told him that it meant something to you too.

he grinned, mouth dragging across your breast and down, down, down. further and further, licking his way over your skin until your dress was finally on the floor and his head rested on your thigh. he watched you for a moment, lazy smile matching the lazy pace of his fingers, still working your pussy. all you did was breath, staring him down, begging and begging and begging with your eyes.

he relented and leant in, tongue running through your soaked folds. his grey-green eyes held nothing but lust and he never looked away, lips wrapping around your clit. he sucked, the perfect amount of pressure, licking into you messily. the groans he let out harmonised perfectly with your whines, and you crumpled even further into the sofa.

you were electrified, left empowered by the way he’d worshipped your body all night long. from the first time he laid eyes on you, to the first time he picked up the camera, to the first touch, he had you burning. his tongue continued to work blissfully, teeth joining in to make you shiver, and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, dying for a closer look. you were entranced; his concentration, the way he ground himself against the sofa, his huge hands gripping your thighs, holding you as close as he could. he was addictive and you wanted to remember him the way he would remember you.

“lando,” you breathed, accompanied by a tug of his hair. he paused his movements, eyebrow raised. you reached out blindly, grazing the coffee table until you found what you were looking for, what he’d so haphazardly left there. you held the camera in your hands, fingers wrapping around it, feeling the weight of it. you felt a sense of control and wondered if that’s what he felt, if that’s what he got off on. your cunt pulsed around his still fingers at the thought.

the grin on his face mirrored your own as soon as he realised what you were planning, devious and sexy, and he quickly went back to work. the hand in his hair pulled harder as he lapped at your clit, the camera aimed at him lazily, and you pulled the trigger. click, click, click. you took candid after candid, blurry and distorted, sharp and hazy. the red of his tongue stood out in every shot, coated in your slick and continuing to explore, and of course his eyes. those eyes, there was something about them and the way he watched you, the attention to detail. that’s where he held his skill, his genius.

a couple more pictures, and you lost control. his fingers moved quickly, stroking every spot inside you that made you tremble, accompanied filthily by his tongue, swirling and sucking, devouring you. your head fell back and your eyes rolled and you cried out, a million pictures of him making you cum saved for later.

“well, if that’s how you wanna play it.” he muttered, pushing himself from between your thighs.

he pulled the camera from your shaking hands, standing over you. he removed his jeans with one hand, the other returning the favour, snapping away. your sprawled out body, chest heaving, legs splayed open, documented; as all art was supposed to be. he wouldn’t stop there, he decided, revelling in your smirk. you were just like him, arguably worse.

he crawled back on top of you, situated perfectly between your legs. your back arched at the feeling of having him so close, cock grazing your inner thighs. your legs wrapped around his waist, lip caught between your teeth as he raised the camera again. he lined himself up with your entrance, teasing your opening. you raised your hips, drawing him in and you gasped, the feeling of him filling you up slowly, inch by inch, making your every hair stand on end.

“just like that, baby.” he whispered, eyes flickering between the small screen and you.

you fell into a perfect rhythm, and soon enough he was fucking you harder, one hand wrapped around your neck, and the flash of the camera sending your eyes into the back of your head. his thumb bumped your swollen bottom lip, grip on your neck easing up, and he slipped it in your mouth. you sucked, obedient, enjoying the way his hips stuttered at the sight.

he sighed, shaky, tossing the camera back onto the coffee table beside you. he leaned in, thrusts slowing, but somehow he got deeper, hips hitting yours harder. he kissed your jaw, down your neck, face buried there for a moment. you whined around his thumb, tears pricking your eyes as you got closer to your second orgasm. he pulled his hand away, lips meeting yours. it was deep, tongue licking into your mouth, and you felt his hand against yours, fingers intertwining urgently as you both hurtled towards the edge.

“lando-“ you hummed into his mouth, jaw hanging slack, and he stilled inside you.

you felt like you were levitating, encompassed by his warmth and the lightning bolts of his touch. you arched into him, grabbing at his shoulder, holding him against you, your other hand lost in his curls as you writhed against him. his breathing grew heavier as he let himself go, quiet moans fanning against your ear.

you hummed, basking in the aftershocks. he stayed right there, laying on top of you, toying with stray strands of hair that framed your face. your fingers scratched over his scalp, tracing down his neck, and he shivered.

you stayed that way for a while, unsure of how much time had passed. it didn’t exactly matter to you, it felt too good to care. he felt too good. it was quiet, perfectly peaceful. he only pulled away to roll off of you, settling beside you. his arm stretched out behind you, guiding you into him, and you relaxed, fingers mindlessly tracing his chest. once you were both comfortable, he smirked down at you, grabbing the camera. he flicked through the images, staring at each picture intently, tongue wetting his lips. you watched his pupils dilate, his hold on you tightening.

“you certainly know your way around the camera.” he murmured, amused. out if the corner of your eye you could make the images out; his head lost between you thighs, tongue wandering, your hand in his untamed curls. you almost blushed.

he lowered the device so that it was in your eye line now, too. your breath caught in your throat, lips curling into a smile as you took in the sight. you barely recognised yourself and it was magnificent.

“could say the same about you.” you teased, admiring what you’d both created.

“maybe next time, we’ll make a movie.” he joked, except it wasn’t a joke. he was deadly serious, and your thighs clenched at the prospect of next time. “my little muse.” he whispered, and you couldn’t wait for next time.

you clambered on top of him, snatching the camera from his grasp. you examined it, eyes flickering between it and him.

“why wait ‘til next time?” you seduced and he smiled.

the red light blinked and you were lost.

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph

maintenance: i’ve deleted any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from my taglist <33

[poohbea]

IM HERE TO BOOK MY MF APPOINTMENT BABEEEE🤭

so yk obviously i have to pick red w toji😵‍💫 and i just know that dirty bastard has a corruption kink so he got no issue handling little virgins😗 i’m thinking cute lingerie is involved, readers definitely overthinking everything until he fucks the nerves outta you😔

CONGRATS AGAIN ON 300 I LOVE YOU!!😚

wordcount: 1.4k

content: escort!toji, softdom!toji, virgin chubby fem!reader, implied black!reader (there’s one mention of skin tone but it’s very minor), lingerie, blindfold (you see that tie around his neck?), very light choking, pet names (baby, doll, darlin’, etc.), unprotected sex (use protection kids), unedited

note from pooh: the way i was in the ZONE while writing this goodness gracious me, i was literally in toji’s mind while writing, seeing you through his eyes, how you’d feel and sound like, heheheeeeee. why do i always get into that headspace when writing for him? i don’t even know 😭🤭 but anyway, im so sorry this took forever to come out, im lowkey embarrassed smh 😭 i blame my perfectionist ass, cause this wasn’t supposed to be this long lmao but i needed it to be good so here she is 🥺 i hope you enjoy my angel 🤎

WARNING: this is smut, so please ensure you have your age visible on your account before interacting. minors (below 18+), ageless and blank blogs will be BLOCKED

Hope you enjoy ♡ reblogs are greatly appreciated

“My, my,” Toji purrs with the slight shake of his head. He admires the way your skin flushes under the intensity of his dark gaze, eyes raking your body shamelessly. His fingers trace the silken material of the remaining black lingerie, the lace hugging your hips in a way that made his dick all too hard. “Fuck, look at you, doll.” You had him thinking up the most depraved thoughts as you lay there on the bed, blindfolded, so open and responsive to each and every touch.

Innocent. It was the first word that came to mind when you walked through his door. It was difficult for you to meet his gaze when he spoke, often keeping your head down or picking at your nails out of nervousness. However, the more he pried, the more you began to relax, able to speak beyond just one word when he asked you a question.

Then he finally got your attention. “Are you a virgin?”

Your response was almost immediate, wide eyes, trembling lips, a shaky exhale, all before you confirmed it with a soft. “Yes.” It’s when he laughs do you panic. “T-that’s not an issue, is it?! I can go if-”

“No, no,” he interrupts your distressed ramble. “It’s…No, it’s perfect actually.” You were inexperienced, untouched, uncorrupted. And soon you were on his bed, expression resembling that of a deer in headlights, that was until Toji offered you his tie. “This might help with your nerves.” You eyed the satin with clear confusion, drawing a chuckle from the man. “Clients typically find it easier to relax with a blindfold on, gets them outta their head.” With shaky hands you take the tie from him and with some help you manage to tie it securely around your head, vision black and body on high alert.

“I’m scared.” You admit, huffing an anxious laugh.

“That’s okay, baby girl. You’re new to this, so we’ll go nice and slow.” You noticeably shudder as he runs his hands up your legs, starting at your ankles, fingers tracing the sides of your calves before dipping behind your knees, enjoying the soft moan you emit as a result. He knew every erogenous zone there was and just how to touch them to make you squirm. He didn’t have to wonder between your thighs to elicit a sound from those pretty lips, no, he’d make you beg with them first.

Before long he’s at your stomach, your hips following the arched path of his fingertips over your pelvis in a languid buck, goosebumps rising upon your heated skin. “So sensitive.” He can’t help but chuckle when you whine in reply, thighs clenching tight as he journeys over the swell of your breasts, just barely ghosting your already pert nipples through the thin lace.

The man didn’t mind the adorable sentiment, wrapping his gift in such a pretty material, all so he could remove it, layer by layer. But first he’d play with you a little, help unravel that tight coil of trepidation set in the pit of your stomach.

“Breathe, doll.” He whispers in your ear as he wraps a hand around your throat, relishing the way your chest falls on command. “That’s it, baby.”

“Toji.” Your weak pleas went ignored as he continued his amorous exploration, digits hooking the thin straps of your bra. Slowly drawing them down your shoulders, his lips followed suit, each newly revealed section of skin met with the heat of his kiss. And soon your top was off, lost to the shagginess of the carpet beneath the bed as he tossed it aside.

Which brings him back to marvelling at your figure, an irresistible softness beneath his fingertips as he plays with your pert nipples, humming as your back arches, body silently begging for more of his touch.

“Fuck, darlin’.” Was all he could manage before replacing his fingers with his tongue, drawing a sharp gasp from those pillowy lips of yours. You couldn’t help the moans that followed as it swirled around the sensitive bud, his hands massaging the soft flesh whilst he tended to them one at a time.

“Toji, shit.” His name was breathy as it left your throat, unable to lay still in the face of his teasing, teeth nipping gently at the cocoa dusted skin of your breast, slowly making his way down your body.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.” He mumbles against the plushness of your tummy, taking the string-like waistband of your underwear between his incisors.

“You, I need you, please.” Even blindfolded you still manage to comb your fingers through his hair, practically egging him on as he finally unwraps his gift completely, your panties still between his teeth when they slip from your ankle and onto the bed beside him.

“What do you need from me, angel?” He doesn’t miss the way you lick your lips when you hear his zipper sound, the button of his pants accompanying it as he draws the garment around his thighs, an already hard cock bouncing at attention in its newfound freedom.

“Make love to me.” Those four words stopped Toji in his tracks.

As an escort it was his job to cater to his client’s every need, to be the lover they’d always desired, they were paying him after all. However, it had been a very long time since he’d heard those four words. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to anymore, if he were truly honest. This line of work was no breeding ground for unstable emotions such as love, so with time he’d removed it from his vocabulary entirely. But the desperation in your tone stirred that forgotten feeling inside his chest. He supposed he could make an exception. You were still a virgin, and that alone blossomed a steely determination that steadily washed away any doubt clouding his mind.

“Say that again.” He huffs, taking his already leaking tip in the palm of his hand, spreading the pre-cum across the flushed velvety skin.

“M-Make…”

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it again.” You shudder when he removes the blindfold from your eyes, free hand parting your thighs, hips settling themselves against your own.

“Make love to me, please, Toji.” He has to swallow the growl rising in his chest as he witnesses you bite your lip, gaze never wavering. That hidden confidence finally reared its head unabashedly, challenging his own as he stared down at you with dark eyes.

Toji is silent when he glides the head of his cock through your unsurprisingly slick folds, the sensitivity of your body revealing itself in the form of a delicious glossy arousal that easily paints his tip. “Mm, baby girl, you’re making such a mess.”

“Don’t say it like that.” You whine breathlessly, eying the way he runs his dick over your puffy clit.

“Like what?” His head dips into the crook of your neck. “You don’t want me to tell you just how fucking wet you are for me, doll? How you’re dripping so much you’re ruining the bedsheets?”

“N-No.”

“No? Oh, but I think you do, darlin’. I think you wanna hear all about how wet you’ve made my dick, and how easy it’s gonna slide into that pretty pussy of yours. Isn’t that right, baby?” He rocks his hips into yours ever so slightly, just enough to nudge against the entrance.

“I-I…” You reciprocate with a needy wave of your spine, almost crying when Toji withdraws from your advances.

“I’m not gonna give it to you until I get an answer, pretty. All you have to do is admit it.” The ragged breaths that break the ensuing silence make him chuckle deeply. So he tries again, making sure to include your clit in the mix. “Do you like it when I tell you how wet you are, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes, fuck.”

“Does it feel good when I run my dick over your clit?” He’s tantalisingly slow in his movements as he speaks, each syllable creating a tortuous cadence against the overly sensitive bud.

“Yes, Toji.”

“Good girl. Are you ready?” The question was answered with a soft ‘yes’, and as fast as those words left your lips was he sinking into you.

“Fuck!” Was the first word uttered by both parties when he’d done so, the tightness — even if expected — had his hips stuttering, your walls squeezing him so mercilessly he could've cum right then and there.

“Oh my go- mm, shit.”

“You’re gripping me so tight, baby.” His exasperated laughter shoots a spark down your spine, one that has your nails digging into his biceps for support.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you talking like that. Makes me far too shy.” You mirror his lightheartedness, exhaling as you speak.

“Well,” he starts, nose tracing the curve of your jaw. “Let’s fuck that shyness out of you, shall we?”

tags: @gardenof-venus, @sailewhoremoon, @okhotel, @xharia, @chubbyblackthottie, @sakinotfound, @protectpancakes, @hoohoohope, @snake-titan

© poohbea, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, reupload or modify my work to other accounts and platforms. if you intend to translate any of my works please ask permission first ♡

[alifeasvivid]

fic writer questions

tagged by @fireandiceland :D

1.) How many works do you have on AO3

19... it was 39 but I had a major self-loathing moment

2.) What’s your total AO3 count?

word count? 166,516

3.) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

if you mean currently on AO3? just Hetalia. If you mean only on AO3 ever: Kuroshitsuji, Hyouteki no Finder, BotW, and Hetalia

In total through my whole life uhhh >.> a few more than that

4.) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Thief of Spades Season One

Thief of Spades Season Two

Trust

If It's You

Desperate Measures

5.) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It's gonna be between Last Hurrah and Payback probably... Payback probably wins just because it is incredibly bleak

6.) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Uhhhh hmmm I mean I'd say everything else that's finished they're all about equally happy. I write most fics with the intention of reaching a happy ending that feels earned. From most contrast between the rest of the fic and the ending, I'd say An Impossible Situation

7.) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Nah, I'm not interested in crossovers.

8.) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yeah. What else is there? XD I hope I write *good* smut. After Kuro, I think was really uptight about it and trying to be "clean," but I've loosened up on that a lot and I think it has greatly improved the quality of the smut I write.

I think I have a slight reputation for adding BDSM elements and of course there's my super hardcore kink of writing scenarios where everything is consensual and all parties involved care about and respect each other. It's pretty intense, pretty niche, not a lot of people are into it. LOL As for gender/sexuality >.> who really cares about that kind of thing nowadays?

I also primarily write UKUS, which many people find extremely offensive. 🤣 IT'S A JOKE!

9.) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I used to forget, but I try to do so consistently now because it shows my appreciation because I really like getting comments.

10.) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

EEEEEEYUP.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! :D I consider it to be quite an honor ^-^

13.) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes. A long time ago.

14.) What’s your all time favorite ship?

USUK/UKUS. Nothing else even comes close.

15.) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but you don’t think you ever will?

T_T so many, but mainly Technicolor Heart. I just really like the concept, but that fic would have been soooooooo angsty..... also I don't wanna get ... fuckin.... run off of tumblr.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

Pacing. I know I just have a sense of how a story should progress so that everything feels earned but there's minimal to no dragging. I get told people like my characterizations a lot which is nice ^-^ also my prose is pretty nuanced, but I don't count that as a strength because I think most people don't even notice.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

>.> speed. or lack thereof. I can't write action scenes, which dramatically altered the direction of Thief of Spades in particular. I don't have a beta so there's always typos I'm catching months after posting P: I struggle with description/creating atmosphere using sensory info.

18.) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I agree with Riva that salutations or endearments are fine, but writing whole scenes that way comes across as pretentious and annoying. Not to mention it can just be really confusing. Write in the language of your audience, it's basically just that simple.

19.) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Pffff. As if I'd say it in public smh. I'll spare 11/12 y/o me the indignity

20.) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Uhhhh hmmm

I mean the Thief of Spades series is always going to have a very special place in my heart but writing something that long with that much plot over such a long time, there's a lot of things about it I wish I could change.

In terms of canonverse type stuff, I love The Shape of Modern Imperialism. For shameless self-indulgence I think Three-Part Harmony is best. But I actually worked really hard on Precious Thing and I'm still quite proud of it.

tagging whoever wants to be.

[lynnthefrenchtoast]

🌱lynn's favourite fics

(and quotes from them♡)

requested by: @thejollyshiner & @misterjelliez

Poisoned Dreams by StrangeDiamond

14 CHAPTERS & 3 BONUSES

do you desperately want kaeya and diluc to go back to being brothers again? then this! is the fic! for you! haha! prepare to cry! and slam! your head! on a table! multiple times!

"He's ours now," Diluc wants to tell Kaeya's father. "He's my father's son, not yours. My brother. He's Mondstadt's, and we're not giving him back to you."

thats probably my favourite quote, as well as every piece of fischl dialogue

A Liar's Truth by internetpistol

2 CHAPTERS

sakusa-centred sakuatsu fic. i think this'll hit harder for you if youre closeted or have an unsupportive family but i still enjoyed it regardless

"Love me not despite the fact that I’m gay, but simply because I’m your son."

there were a lot of good quotes but that one takes the cake. absolutely. its now one of my rules to live by

i get to love you by indawn

ONESHOT

childe dies and zhongli gets to mourn his loss.

"For he will always live on in his memory, and in all that is beautiful in life, he will reside."

short but a huge fuel to my writing

How To Finish Your Bucket List Before You Die- A Guide From Kaeya Alberich by OHai_Here

3 CHAPTERS & AN AFTERWORD

kaeya is given a little extra time before he has to go.

"He thinks of Master Crepus who looks at a too-skinny too-dark boy with midnight hair and says, come with me. He thinks of his mother, clinging to Kaeya like the last lifeline she has as she sobs so hard her throat gives out, but through her tears, lets her only son leave for a better life, thinks of his father who sacrificed his life to walk his son through a land which rejects him, who gives his final smile and hug and says, my boy.

And then he thinks about Klee and her innocent smile and understands why they all did what they did and then he thinks, my girl."

i have a soft spot for klee and that line hit me hard.

Parallels by Lancaliii

17 CHAPTERS ONGOING

i havent been into the bnha fandom mood for a v long time but this is DIFFERENT, the characters are totally lancalis own and I LOVE THEM

i dont exactly have a favourite quote since its still ongoing but all of chapter 'blind till now' is my favourite. probably the slutshaming dandelions and "When you hide, you're cowering from the eyes of the world, my friend. Let it see you."

apparently i cant only reccomended angst? smh this isnt fair🙄

bringing a boquet to battle by wormkinnie

ONESHOT

the itto characterization,, hh,, HHHHHHH im pretty sure wormkinnie has a tumblr uh dont let them see this im shy but THEIR WORK IS SO GOOD SORRY IK I NEED TO BE SUMMARIZING THE FIC BUT SRSLY.

itto is chaotic and everyone has to deal with it essentially (ittorou)

“Well, Itto, my only real experience on these matters is with political marriages. I don’t think that’d be much help to you.”

“Well, hey, hold on now. Can I politically ask Gorou to go out with me?” IT REALLY ISNT THE TYPE OF FIC YOU CAN SELL ON A SINGLE QUOTE ITS MORE A WRITING STYLE + COMEDIC GENIUS THING

lessons in beetle battling by wormkinnie

ONESHOT

ive said it once and ill say it again misuse of authority is not good but ayato is an exception. poor thoma. poor, poor thoma.

more wormkinnie fics bc as weve established..

"Lord Kamisato?” Like an answer from Celestia, like a miracle, like some kind of divine blessing that says Yes, Ayato, you can uphold your family’s honor and go fight insects in the streets,"

my actual favourite part is the gorou part but that needs context and i cant spoil it so hhhh

"oh im gonna reccomended fluff now" said lynn, like a liar

the truth (and nothing but) by communist_sasuke

ONESHOT

chuuya gets hit by an ability that forces him to tell the truth. mild hurt/comfort ensues

"Because it makes me human."

no, lynn, you should, in fact, not, share the smut fics you read on a tumblr acc with the same username as every other social media you use because your family can and will find you

..." said the logical part of her brain which she unfortunately tends not to listen to

OK I WONT SHARE THE FICS BUT *COUGH* IM JUST SAYING... jisxangie and seredemia.. thats good enough to be considered art not smut.

please (and i means srsly, pls) reccomend fics in the comments... im starved... i wanna read... give...-🌱

[fishnets-fingers]

Six Months - Part Nineteen

Summary - Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together?

PAIRING - camboy!harry x indian!oc

a/n -  i’m baaaack! sorry for the break being longer than intended, it was harder for me to get into the headspace to write layla and harry the longer i stayed away. still don’t know if it turned out alright. special shoutout to @sunandherflores​ and @0oolookitsme​ for being the sweetest. there is a bit talking about maternal physical abuse, so please feel to skip that part if that’s triggering. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome.  happy reading!

Word Count -  12.3k

Warnings - smut (sexy photoshoot, unprotected shower sex, mastrubation, sex toys), angst (blood, hitting, insecurities), fluff.

Masterpost (find previous parts here)

Layla: this could be us but you’re just being difficult. 

Harry: I don’t know what you are talking about 🧐

Layla: please… 😒 i’ve been begging you to do this for me from the start!

Harry: Really?!? Guess, my memory is like a goldfish then.

Layla: lies. all lies. will you ever put on your little maid outfits for me? 🥺

Harry: I like that we have a little bit of intrigue in the relationship. Don’t you agree?

Layla: what intrigue, you rat bastard! you literally pulled out your dick and peed in front of me. all intrigue is out the window!

Harry: I really had to go and you were taking a long time in the bathroom. 

Layla: i still can’t believe you did that smh

Harry: Your face was quite hilarious! You just stood there staring at me, frozen in place, with floss between your teeth lmao 😜 

Layla: i know what you’re doing, harry styles. tsk tsk.  

Harry: And what might that be??? 🤔

Layla: changing the subject! don’t think i’m gonna let this go!!!

Harry: It’s hilarious. You’ve seen only one picture of me in a maid outfit and you’re hooked 😂 Guess I’ve got some of that ✨raw sex appeal✨ huh?

Layla: who said i’ve only seen one??😏

Harry: There’s only one of my OF instagram and I haven’t shown you anything else. 

Layla: you’re right. but as a subscriber, i have seen  all the pictures and videos 😈

Harry: 😯😦😧😮

Layla: 😈😈😈

Harry: When did you subscribe?

Layla: you figure out 🥸

Harry: I’m gonna literally go and stalk and find you and boot you

Layla: why 😔

Harry: I told you that all you had to do was ask and I’d show you everything! Don’t waste your money, Lails. You have it all. 

Layla: has it ever crossed your fat head that i’d like to support you? 

Harry: You already support me in more ways than one. 

Layla: oh. 

Harry: Yeah, sweet girl, oh. 

Layla: i hadn’t thought of that…

Harry: Wouldn’t expect a different answer 😘

            Where are you guys rn?

Layla: oh we’re at cafe du monde. uncle’s gone to get us some beignets!!

Harry: Yum! That was the place Earl recommended yeah?

Layla: yup. we had some crawfish boil yesterday. delish!! i’m definitely falling in love with the city…

Harry clicks on the picture she sent, she was in her My Chemical Romance crop top smiling at the camera. She had a hair in a topknot, half up half down; hair ever so straight and long, bangs tucked away behind her ear. She’s holding a corn cob in one hand while sucking on a crawfish. There was a red ring around her mouth, no doubt from the seasoning. The picnic table in front of her had lots of shrimp, crawfish, lemon wedges, and corn cobs spread out on a newspaper. 

Harry: Don’t you look cute!

Layla: thanks 🥰😚 oh, uncle’s back with the goods. gtg!

Harry: Alright. Have fun! I love you!

He locks his phone and moves over to his setup in the guest room. He was using the cloud backdrop from his mum’s party. He picks up the thick white comforter from the bed and lays it on the floor. His camera has already been set up on a tripod, a power cord connecting it to his MacBook, so he could look at the pictures as it was being taken. 

He picks up his 35mm lens and screws it on. Harry hunches down and looks at the scene in front of him through his viewfinder. It looked very soft, especially with one of Layla’s skin coloured stockings stretched over the lens - ethereal. He clicks the shutter and looks at the picture on his laptop, and the corner of his mouth slump downward at what he sees. The lighting is still a bit too cool, for his liking. He sighs and walks over to the windows and opens them up, he fiddles with the light boxes, until he gets it exactly the way he wants it to be. 

He goes over to Spotify and clicks on his playlist titled ‘nasties.’ Funnily enough, he’s never used it when he was actually having sex. Brown Eyes by Fleetwood Mac comes on and Harry smiles taking in the music that fills the vacuum. He hits shuffle - his playlist ranged from Doja Cat, Weeknd, Cigarettes After Sex to his old dirty 80s rock - and moves over to strip himself of his shorts. He was wearing his fishnets and his black briefs, shirtless on top, except for the black leather collar fastened around his neck. 

With the remote in his hand, he goes to kneel on the white mattress, sitting back on his calves, leaning forward a little - palms flat on the mattress, biceps flexed. He presses the circular button and hears the camera click and his lightbox blink. He looks at his laptop screen, and parts his knees, the outline of his crotch visible and takes another picture. He took over a hundred pictures in the next two hours. Several clicks of him laying on his side - hand splayed out on his inner thigh. A few of him leaning backwards using his hands to support his weight, one leg bent at the knee resetting on the mattress, the other straight; he then bends his straightened leg at the knee, fleet planted firmly on the mattress. He then takes a few more of him after he folds his body and drapes his tattooed arm on his knee - his you booze you lose tattoo on display, head resting on his arm. For the final couple of shots, he gets up and gets closer to the camera, only his chin, neck and collarbones on display and uses his narrow black belt to thread into the metal hoop at the front of his collar, winding it around his palm and holding it taunt and takes a couple of pictures.

When he’s packing up, wearing a grey hoodie and a black pair of Nike shorts, taking apart the cables, he hears his phone buzz. He quickly makes his way over expecting a call from Layla but the corner of his mouth drops, when he looks at the caller ID.

“Yeah?” He says in a terse manner, after he presses the green button.

“Harry!” The voice chips, a familiar voice of a now unfamiliar person. “How are you, dear boy?”

“Alright.”

“What, I only get one word answers now?” He chuckles.

“What do you want, dad?” He sighs.

“Is it a crime to call up my son to check in?”

“No.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Oh um,” his cheek flushes with colour as he looks around the room. It’s not like he could tell him he was taking pictures for his OnlyFans. “Just tidying up around the house.”

“Always the one to help your mum around the house. Guess some things don’t change.” Harry could hear him smiling on the other end of the line.

“You know me,” he manages to get out, rolling his eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I’m up to?”

“What are you up to?”

“I’m in Manchester. Have been here for a few days for a few meetings with the mergers and acquisition team. Walked across the milkshake place you love - Shakeaway, the one at Chorlton. You remember those giant-”

“Yeah. The butterscotch and white maltesers ones.” He smiles, wistfully.

“And the brainfreeze we’d get drinking them,” he chuckles.

“Yeah.” Harry sighs.

The line goes silent, neither not knowing what to say next.

“H, what are you doing Christmas time? Do you wanna watch a game and grab a pint at a bar?”

“I won’t be in London, Dad.”

“Oh, you and mum off on a holiday?”

“We’re staying here in the States and celebrating.”

“That’s odd. Very unlike the two of you to not come home and celebrate with mum’s family.”

“Well, we’ve made a family for ourselves here. We might pop over to granddad and grandmum’s sometime after,” he says, although he doesn’t understand why he did add the last bit in.

“Oh. Thought I could see you. I picked up a Titanic record at the market the other day. Seems like an original. Pretty rare too; you can’t get the One Night in Eagle Rock anymore. Thought I could make it your Christmas present. It’s been two years since we’ve-”

“I know. Listen, I’ve got to go. Need to head to the post office soon. Told my gir - um… my friend that I’d ship some stuff of hers.” He wasn’t fully lying, he really did need to go ship Layla’s paintings of those kittens in babushkas, but he wasn’t gonna do it right now.

“Alright. You seem to be pretty busy. Hope you’ve applied to schools.”

“Yup. If everything goes well, might head to UCSD next autumn.”

“I’m positive it’ll all go smoothly, H.”

“Fingers crossed. Hey, thanks for picking up the vinyl, you didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to, H. That’s our thing. I’m gonna let you go now.”

“Yeah. Bye.” He clicks the red button and collapses on the couch, letting out a big breath that he wasn’t aware of holding.

////

“Absolutely not,” Abi shakes her head.

“But why not?” Layla whines, holding up a small skull of a tortoise from the glass cabinet.

“It’s only six dollars. It’s the coolest thing in this room. Doesn’t this look like a dinosaur?” She asks, hoping to convince her.

“Nah uh.” Layla had managed to pull her uncle and aunt into a voodoo shop in the French Quarter. Ten minutes browsing in the small dimly lit, blood red room, that Abi frankly thought looked like a dingy basement from the sixties. 

“What if I take it back home with me?”

“Who’s gonna let you fly with a skull?” She chuckles.

“Fair point.” She thinks for a while, thinking about another reason to make her aunt agree. “Please please, I promise to have it in my room,” she resorts in the end.

“It's not coming into my house. Nothing belonging to dead animals.”

“Look at this!” Vasanth waves them over to him, on the other side of the room. They both shuffle over to him, Layla grumbles putting back the tortoise shell in its place.

They look to see a small drawer pulled out containing different trinkets inside - buffalo tooth, shark tooth, racoon tooth, coyote tooth, crow bone, and alligator claw. 

“Cool!” She exclaims picking up a buffalo tooth, which was larger than she expected to be. “This is like an ingredient list to a witches brew.” She picks up the alligator claw next. “One racoon tooth, two alligator paws, six drops of the blood of your enemy, stir in some bird saliva...” She prattles on, poorly mimicking a cackling voice of a stereotypical witch. 

“Do birds even produce saliva?” Vasanth asks. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, putting a glass case with a wooden frame into the small cart Abi was carrying. It already had a purple cardboard cylinder that her aunt picked up that was called ritual bath salt, there were two silk bandanas that Layla had picked out for Harry - one in red with blue patterns and other blue with white patterns, her uncle had picked out a black candle that smells like apples and cinnamon.

“What’s this kutti?” Her Aunt asks, turning over the glass frame and she’s faced with seven butterflies - all different shapes and colours - pinned to the white background. 

“You said animals. They are insects,” she defends herself, when her aunt’s eyebrow arches. “And your husband is also on board with me. So it’s two against one,” Layla sticks her tongue out at her.

“That’s right! Democracy baby,” Vasanth exclaims, high fiving his niece. “Seven of these beauties for forty five dollars, that’s a steal.”

////

Harry sighs for the umpteenth time, he shuffles to his side, pulls up his sheets and tucks the ends under his chin. He just couldn’t sleep tonight. He looks at the ceramic ring dish, Layla made for him, on his night stand. It was such a thoughtful gesture from her to make him a dish to keep all his rings in place.  He sighs again. It’s crazy that it’s only been four days and he misses her already, which is insane considering she has only been in his life for three months now. It’s ten past two at night and he’s sure she’s zonked out after sightseeing but it doesn’t stop him from unlocking his phone and texting her.

Harry: Hoi!!! 

His eyebrows raise up when his phone immediately dings with a notification from her. 

Layla: hi hi! what are you doing up?

Harry: Can’t sleep. Why aren’t you asleep?

Layla: mcr just released a new song out of the blue

Harry: So you’re trying to memorise it within a few hours for your fangirl cred?

Layla: know me so well. can’t look like a normie at the concert in december.

Harry: Won’t you look like a normie next to me?

Layla: i would but doesn’t matter. i’ll redeem emo points for you too!

           how was your shoot today?

Harry: Went well. Wanna see some pics?

Layla: deffo

Harry: Shit everything is in my SD card. I do have one on my phone though.

He attaches the only picture he took with his phone, a picture of his feet - with his fishnets on - pressed flat against the white mattress topper. The black of his ‘big’ tattoo on his big toe and the mesh pattern contrasted with the white of the background.

Layla: i’ve said it before and i’m saying it again but that’s some nasty ass feetsies. goblin trotters, even.

Harry: I’m hard…

Layla: have i pavloved you so much that my insults are sending all the blood rushing to your dick lmao

Harry: Shut up, dickhead. I’ve been hard for a while now.

Layla: i see. i’d love to help you out but uncle and aunty are a foot away from me. so you’re on your own.

Harry: :(

Layla: sorry but i’ll make up for it when i’m back. promise babe.

Harry: Counting on it. Good night baby.

Layla: good night! maybe try using that egg vibrator thingie you got. 

He does the exact same. He rummages through his drawers to find the grey drop. He then spits into his palm and strokes his length, palming at the head. He unlocks his phone to find some pictures of Layla he had taken. He moans out loud when her soft thighs come into view. She got a pair of embroidered butterfly panties off the internet and demanded he take sexy pictures of her because she felt cute in them. His tip spurts out pearls of precum and he spreads them down his length as he swipes through the series of pictures, hips bucking into his palms as he looks at the picture of her lifting up her white tennis skirt - thighs spread open - to show off her underwear. The next two were just of her thighs from different angles. His hips pick up the pace as he fucks his palm, warmth raging through his body. The last two of her taking off her underwear but her thighs took up most of the frame. He reaches for the vibrator, pressing the button before the little silicone starts vibrating and he touches it to the head of his leaking cock.

“Shit,” he curses, gritting his teeth of the new sensation.

What I would give to bite into her thick thighs right now, he thinks. He pictures himself pushing his cock in between her thighs, rocking until he spurts all over.

“Fuck sweet girl,” he whines, pressing onto the button again - the little machine’s intensity increases. He runs it up and down his shaft, eyes scrunching up as the pleasure plateaus. 

He just needed the smallest push to tip him over the edge. He places the vibrator against his balls and wraps his hands against this throbbing member, mewling at the tingles shooting up his spine. He swipes his screen quickly landing on exactly what he was looking for - a picture of Layla on top of his chest, head tucked into his chest, eyes glazed over from her orgasm, dopey smile stretching across her face, lips swollen, hair mussed up the perfect way that screams ‘just had my boyfriend rail me on all fours,’ and a hickey near her collarbone. She had two of her fingers in Harry’s mouth - she just finished telling him that he was such a good boy for her.

He moans out loud, feeling himself soaring as the pleasure bursts. And he empties himself onto his stomach and hand, he continues pumping until the last few spurts of his hot come dribble on his fern tattoo.

The power she has over me, he thinks, smiling as he’s coming down from his high.

////

“I can’t believe you two are gonna eat that,” Abi exclaims, shaking her head at the two of them. She fishes her phone from her purse and takes a picture of the hurricane cocktail Layla ordered. Layla moves her face, so right behind the poco grande glass filled with the blood orange liquid and a slice of orange wedged on the rim, right next to a cherry. She makes a funny face in the background as her Aunt snaps away. The couple opted for a pina colada sans any alcohol, because of the growing little baby in Abi’s tummy.

“When you’re at Pat O’Brien’s you’ve gotta do it their way,” Vasanth shrugs, rotating the hot sauce bottle that was on the green table.

“What do you think it’ll taste like?” Layla asks her Uncle. 

“Probably chicken.” The two were the adventurous eaters of the family. 

“Oh, are you two excited to find out the sex of the baby?”

“Who says we don’t know?” Abi smirks.

“What?”

“We know. The doctor was able to tell us in the last check up,” Vasanth smiles.

“Well, tell me!”

“You’ll find out with the rest of the family in a few days at the function.”

“Oh come on, not fair! Tell me,” she presses.

“You’ll find out when தாத்தா பாட்டி (granddad and grandmum) find out.”

“What if I rub your feet and rub lotion on your stomach tonight? Will you tell me then? I’ll make it worth it,” Layla asks her Aunt.

“I won’t but you’re welcome to rub my feet,” Abi giggles.

The waiter comes back with their starters and distracts Layla. She looks at the plate in front of her. The bite sized crispy breaded pieces looked to be fried to a  golden brown perfection. There was mayo dip placed next to a wedge of lemon. Tiny bits of green were dusted all over the plate, Layla could make out it was some herb from the smell. It looked very innocuous.

“Looks like KFC. Can’t tell that that's an alligator,” Abi says. 

Vasanth and Layla both pick up a piece and bite into it. “Not bad. Sure you don’t want any?” Vasanth asks his wife, gesturing to the plate of alligator bites.

“No. I’ll stick to my vegetarian choice. Thank you. What does it taste like, hmm?”

“It’s tough.” Layla gets out with a mouthful as she chews. She cocks her head from side to side, trying to best decipher what it tastes like. “Like chicken,” Layla declares, picking up a napkin to wipe the mayo at the corner of her mouth. “Could pass as fried chicken definitely.”

////

“You got all the bags?” Layla grunts at her uncle, as she drops the last of their luggage on the front porch with a slight thud.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’m gonna pop over to Harry’s,” she says, hands going into the pockets of her sweats.

“We just got in,” Vasanth raises his brow.

“So?”

“Don’t you wanna shower first?”

“I’ll do it later.”

“You could do it now and then head over to your boyfriend’s,” he suggests.

“No,” she huffs.

“Go ahead, kutti. Bring over the package பாட்டி (grandmum) sent over,” Abi says, coming over to the threshold from the bathroom.

“Alright! See you!” She waves and jogs over to the house next door. 

She quickly makes her way in, punching in the security code and quietly bounds up the stairs of the empty house. She sees him sitting on his desk, shirtless, broad shoulders hunched over the tiny black game console of hers. His greasy brown ringlets were haphazardly clipped away from his face. From the music Layla could tell that he was playing Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town. He got sucked into the game the minute he got to know that he could name his animals and his character. So much sucked into it that Layla’s Gameboy has only been on his bedside table for months now.

“Hi, farm boy,” she whispers, making him whip around.

His response is not one of surprise that she was expecting, and it almost offends her. She simply gives her a distracted smile and turns around to the backlit screen in his hands. “Give me a minute I just need to collect one more Goddess Gem, so I can marry the Harvest Goddess.”

“Excuse me?”

“What? She’s hard to impress,” he defends himself. “I finished digging up all the items in the spring and lake mine, and I bought a big bed. It’s the only thing left for me to marry her.”

“You do realise you can’t just ask her. You have to go to Carter and ask his permission to marry her in the confessional first.”

��Okay. Noted. Thanks, didn’t know that.”

“Wait?!? Why am I helping you?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, still glued to his game.

“Hello! I just got back after a week and came here straight to surprise you and you don’t even say hi,” she narrows her eyes at him.

“Just give me one moment,” he still fiddles with the buttons.

“Fine.” She huffs. “Guess, sex is off the table then. I’m gonna take a shower.” She unzips her lilac puffer jacket and shuffles it on his floor.

“Whoa, hold on now.” He flips the device close and puts it on the desk and walks towards her.

“Oh, that got your attention now, did it?” She grumbles, bunching up the end of her jumper and pulls it up her head, mussing up her hair in the process. She steps back when he goes to pull her in for a hug.

“Don’t be like that, Lails.” 

She frowns at him, standing in a sports bra and grey sweats, arms crossed over her chest and tapping her socked foot on the floor.

“Come on, I was just in the zone. You know what that’s like when you’re playing,” he reasons.

She thinks about what he said, worrying her bottom lip. “Fine.” She rolls her eyes, letting out a big sigh.

“How about we start from the top?” He says, coming to cup her puffy cheeks between his large palms.

“I’d like that.”

“Hi, baby.” He whispers, bending down to nuzzle his nose against hers. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too,” she replies, getting on her tiptoes - throwing her arms around his neck to balance herself - brushing her lips against his. 

She rubs her hands against his stubbly, unshaven patchy scruff on his face. “What’s with the whiskers?”

“Didn’t really feel like shaving? What you don’t like my new look?” 

“Can’t decide. Prickly,” she giggles, when he rubs his face against her neck, pushing his face away. 

“How was your trip?” He asks, backing her up against the cream coloured wall. 

“Good. I got you two silk bandanas. You know, so you can stop stealing my claw clips,” she smiles. 

“Nice try but never.” He leans down and steals a kiss from her, it was needy, incessant and passionate. She swipes her tongue across his bottom lip, and he opens up letting her lick into his mouth and his hips involuntarily flexes into hers. 

His hands slowly make their way down her torso, caressing her soft skin, as he kisses down her neck, sucking on the spot right below her ear, making her tug at his hair at the nape of his neck. He unties her drawstring and pushes down her sweats, making it pool at her ankles, smirking at her Batman underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous you know that sweet girl,” he mutters, pupils blown out with wanton. 

She shrugs and tugs him closer, running her hands down his taut torso, fingers tracing the outlines of the ferns. “Could say the same thing about you.”

He laughs. “I’m honoured.” His hands slide into her panties, one hand gripping onto her meaty bum, while the other teases at her damp folds, getting close to her nub but completely not touching it.

“Harry,” she complains, biting down on the column of his throat. 

“What?” He smirks. 

“You know what.”

“My sweet girl  wants to be touched, huh?”

She nods. “Cut it out with the teasing,” she demands. 

And he does. He pins her against the wall, dips his head into her chest so he can kiss and suck on the fleshy tops of her breasts, as he works her clit repeatedly by drawing circles and alternating it between back on forth motions on her hood - just how she likes it. Her moans and whimpers against his ear only eggs him to keep going until he helps her reach her peak. His erection feels unbelievably heavy, straining against the zipper of his trousers, he rubs himself against her thigh, in an asynchronous pace, to relieve the pressure. 

“Ah, Harry,” Layla groans. Her fingers come to grip his wrist, stopping the ministration of his fingers. “Need you inside me when I come. Shower. Take me to the shower.” 

He carries her to his en suite. They both quickly work themselves to get rid of their clothes and walk into the water. Layla grips on to his hair and pulls him in for a kiss, letting him suck on her bottom lip, breaking away ever so often to mewl as her closed fist works his cock, thumbing and his leaking slit. 

“Baby, can I - uh fuck - feels good,” he grunts, as his hips work his throbbing member into her palm. “Can I not use a condom? Just wanna feel all of you.”

“Okay. Pull out, alright.”

She quickly turns around and presses herself against the tiles, chest flush, back curving, ass sticking out.

“Want this?” He checks in with her, as he’s roughly pumping himself, coming to stand behind her. 

“Need it.”

Harry quickly guides himself into her, mesmerised by how she sucks him in with ease. Both moaning at the feeling, when he bottoms out. 

“So exquisite for me, my sweet sweet girl,” he moans, hot breaths against her ear. She felt like heaven, all what he needed, warm, wet, tight, and loving. Things were much better without a condom. She was indescribable, almost like his antidote.

“Just like that. Keep doing that,” Layla tells him, when he drives his hips into her quickly. 

He drives himself deeper and faster into her each time. Grunting against her ear, one hand steadying himself by gripping onto her hip, while the other snakes its way to toy with her clit, making her cry out in pleasure. He notices her hands - one gripping onto the shower handle, the other clawing onto the cold tile and he can’t help but feel jealous. So he pulls out quickly, kissing down her wet back, turning her around quickly, so she’s facing him. 

“Want your hands on me,” he whines greedily, bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. He gets between her hips in no time, one hand gripping onto the shower wall, the other coming to cradle the small of her back, her chest pressed against his in a delicious manner. Her leg comes to hook around his hips, getting on her tiptoes, they both cry out from how good they’re making each other feel. The sound of water was torrential but not enough to mask the way their skins were slapping against each other. 

“Ah. Don’t - fuck fuck fuck. Don’t stop,” Layla cries out knowing full well he won’t, nails scratching down his back in a painful manner. 

Tingly sparks shoot up his stomach at the delicious pain he’s experiencing with heightened pleasure. He stutters his hips into hers, harsher than he intends to, causing her to cry out.

“Hurts,” she gasps, tightening around him.

“Motherfuck,” he moans loudly. “Don’t. Or I’ll come,” he warns and she relaxes around his throbbing prick. 

“Sorry. You okay?” He asks, pushing the sopping strands of hair away from her eyes, blinking away the beads of water that weighed down his eyelashes. 

“Yeah. Think you went a bit hard on my cervix there,” she chuckles. 

“Sorry. Got a bit excited when you scratched down my back.”

She chuckles. “That’s okay. I’m okay.” She pushes the water away from her face. “Make me come now.”

He works him slowly into her. Going slow and being much more gentle. “Faster, Harry,” she demands and he picks up speed, drawing circles with his hips, making her bite into his shoulder. 

“Aargh,” she grunts, clutching onto his bicep, tightening around him again, much more relentlessly and tighter, band in her tummy stretched, ready to snap. 

“Don’t. Don’t.” He can feel his control slipping, his rubber band snaps. “Fuck fuck fucking hell,” he curses, eyes screwed shut, pulling out of her hurriedly - just in time -  as he comes all over her stomach – warmth spreading in his body. 

She chuckles, pulling him closer for a kiss as his cock sputters ribbons, emptying himself. She could still feel him twitching between the two of them. 

“Unacceptable,” he shakes his head, chastising himself for coming before her. 

“Guess I got that gorilla grip, huh,” she jokes, as his come smears on his stomach, as she sucks on his neck, meeting with a blooming kiss mark when she pulls away. 

He uses two of his fingers and scoops some on his hand and sucks it into his mouth, bending down to kiss her, tongue dancing with hers. He kisses and licks down her body, getting down on his knees as he runs his stubbly face against her inner thigh, making her shriek in response. He hooks her leg onto his shoulder, palms laying flat against her belly - holding her squirmy body still - as he dives into her folds, intending to take full advantage of what his scruff can do. 

////

Warm. The thick duvet, afternoon sunlight slanting into the room and a certain someone curled up on him made him feel warm all over, yet he couldn’t bring himself to move and turn on the fan.  Harry looks down to see a shock of her dark slightly damp hair fanned every which way, obstructing her face. He gently pushes her wild locks behind and smiles when he sees her let out soft snores through parted lips. His thumb absentmindedly comes to caress her cheek, as he stares at how her eyelashes fan across her face and the way her eyes move behind her closed lids. Poor thing, must be shattered from all the travel, he thinks. 

Layla can sleep anywhere at any time, unlike him and she needed her full eight hours.  She’s threatened to bite him if he ever woke her up early during the weekends for his runs. He’s seen her pull a few all nighters prepping for her classes  - her lights are always on and her windows were open and that certainly caught his attention when he got up for a wee - and when he’d gone over the next day to check up, he’d found her snoozing away on the sofa. 

It’s nice when he gets to hold her while he can. He never really had the opportunity to hold her through the night. They’d both start with a cuddle but would eventually need their own space, because they were both predominantly stomach sleepers. 

Harry always knew that she wasn’t a big cuddle or a touch person but it always surprised him to no extreme when she’d be up for a good cuddle whenever he wants. He’d once asked her if she was just putting it up for his sake and she’d told him “I am not a touch person. I don’t really reach for people often. Dolphin is the only exception. I’d always pick the floor to sleep on rather than squeezing into a queen sized bed with my cousins. But the only cuddles I accept are from my Aunts. Vasanth had left for the States for his Masters before my parents started fighting. So they, all four of my Aunts, basically stepped in to take care of me. Being my Dad’s first cousins, they had good relationships with my mum and they were the only ones who were allowed to talk to me from my Dad’s side when we lived alone. They were the only ones who always treated me as their baby during that time. I’ve never had to pretend to be fine with them. I’ve felt the most at ease to cuddle with them. I don’t see them very often and they all have their own families now. Timeshare sucks, so I haven’t had a cuddle with anyone in years. Until you. I like cuddling with you because it makes me feel like that. Like safe and comfortable enough to let my guard down to accept your care. So no, I’m not putting up with it just because you’re a touch person. I look forward to it actually.” It knocked the soul out of him. He went home that night and cried himself to sleep knowing that he was able to provide a haven for his sweet girl. 

His fingers weave into her hair, and he gently rubs at her scalp. Raspberry lips brush against her sweaty forehead. She was a natural caretaker. There probably wasn’t a time where she didn’t jump at the chance to take care of others - cooking, helping run errands, handiwork, helping with the orders at Earl’s, and knowing how to listen to others when they’d want to talk. She absolutely loved listening to his stories in a way that fed right into his ego; Layla always being so curious. He thinks back to a conversation they’d had when he was sitting on the lidded toilet watching her do her skincare routine at night. 

“What did you just squirt from that?” He asks, watching her set down a dark amber frosted glass bottle on his counter. 

“Vitamin C.” She responds, using her index to dot the serum at different points of her face, before softly massaging them into her skin.

“Do you know Narwhal’s have the same amount of vitamin c on an inch of its skin as half an orange?”

She shakes her head.

“Inuits used to use their skin to ward off scurvy.” “Interesting. Narwhals are those whales with a tusk, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen a few when I was in Churchill.” He says with a smile on his face. 

“Aren’t they rare?”

“Hmm.” He makes his way to the counter, popping his butt on the marble top. A proud grin stretches across his face. “It was May and we were up North to get more data on the machine and while we were standing on the ice, setting up equipment, there were seven of these and they popped right up in the ice pockets to get some air. They go down super deep and they always remember to come back to the same ice pockets to get some air. They are also creatures of habit, quite like you. Too bad it’s killing them.” He sighs. 

“How so?”

“Climate Change.”

Layla gives him a confused look as she squirts some of her aloe vera  moisturising gel into her palm. “Oh,  global warming and because of rising water temperatures?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. See what’s why the word global warming pisses me off. It’s reinforcing the idea of heat to people who don’t know much about the science behind it. People in colder areas don't think it applies to them and everyone thinks the ice caps are melting. I’m not saying they aren’t, it is a pressing issue. But the earth is also getting cooler. Much much colder. That’s why I personally prefer the word climate change over global warming. Coming back to whales, because they are such creatures of habit, they come back to the same pockets of openings in the ice sheets for air. Suddenly, mostly due to a shift in the wind and these pockets freeze over fully or have a very small opening, this makes a whole pod fight to come to the surface for air while the weak ones drown. Sometimes, they get trapped in these tiny areas and get hunted by predators.”

“What are predators to living whales?” Her voice muffled as she applies some Vaseline on her lips. 

“Polar bears, walruses and sometimes even the arctic foxes.”

“I didn’t know walruses and bears are powerful enough to take on whales.”

“They are- wait am I waffling about and boring you?” He stops. He’s been told that when he gets excited, he has a tendency to blather about it for ages. 

“No you are not. I love getting to hear these snippets from your time in Manitoba. You must have worked so hard.”

“I was the youngest, and inexperienced, so I did meaningless work most of the time. But the people on the team were real nice.”

“Harry, don't sell yourself short. No one just gets to go on an all expense paid year long research expedition in the Arctic Circle, especially when they are right out of school.” 

Boy did that stroke his ego. It felt nice coming from her, he knew she was sharp as a tack. She had the ability to read a forty page research article and condense it down to five lines and she’d hit all the right points. He was also envious of the way she’d instantly make abstract ideas and sound like it was as simple as breathing. 

She always gave and gave, sometimes it resulted in back and forths just to get her to accept care from him. Care in the form of appreciation. Gratitude. Helping her with whatever she was doing. Helping her unwind with a massage or a movie.  Paying for things. Wanting to spoil her. But it was hard sometimes. She was far too stubborn. He’d also notice the way her eyes flit around any room they walk into, assessing the situation, like she’s gauging the temperature of the water by dipping her toe in before taking the plunge. Taking care of people was her default mode, she’d find time to squeeze the act in even if she was slammed that day. His fingers drift to the exposed honey like skin under her collarbone, she was wearing his white ribbed tank and one of the sleeves had slid down her shoulder. He presses his lips to her sleep warm cheek, sighing in response to her scent crescendoing. 

It was challenging to get her to just accept the smallest acts for care. Harry wondered sometimes if she’d short circuit if she can’t care for someone or something. As herculean it was to get her to shut up and go with it, he wasn’t gonna stop until the fact that he’s not gonna give up trying, until it’s driven deep into her thick skull. 

She jerks in his arms and he stills not wanting her to wake up, she mumbles something incoherently and moves to lie on her back, but her left thigh was still wedged between his. Bare legs tangled together in the sheets. Faint red splotches, a result of friction, decorate her inner thigh, a reminder of the places his stubble traced her sensitive skin. Dimples carve into his cheek as he thinks back to their exchange an hour or so ago. 

“What are you doing, babe?” Layla asks, while towelling her sopping wet raven strands, eyeing him as he picks up his razor. 

“Shaving.” He replies, tearing his eyes away from his reflection on the sink mirror to look at her in just his briefs. 

“Why?” 

“Because you have beard burns on the inside of your thighs,” he tells her, nose scrunching as he deals with a phantom itch at the top of his nose. 

“Don’t shave. Please.” She says softly. 

“Baby, I don’t want to irritate your skin any more.”

“I can always put some aloe on it. It doesn’t really hurt. Keep it please, Har. I really liked how it felt when you went down on me,” she blushes. 

“Is that so?” He asks coyly, putting the razor on the counter and turns his body towards her fully. Ego skyrocketing. 

“Hmm.” She nods, giving him a shy smile. 

“Okay, since you asked so nicely. I’ll maybe give this stubble thing a go for a few days. But I’m gonna shave before Abi’s ceremony.”

“Super!” She bites the plump of her bottom lip as she picks up the white tank top that Harry had hung on the rack for her. 

////

Layla pushes a strand of hair that flips onto her forehead, obstructing her view, back with her wrist. She squints at the scrawny handwriting on the bound notebook in front of her. The blue ink had faded, the once white pages have now faded. But she could make out the instructions on the page. She squeezes a tablespoon of sriracha into the bowl containing mayonnaise. 

A sizzle comes from the pan, from where Earl’s toasting their baguettes. She was over at his place for lunch. “How’d you like the piano duels?” He asks, referring to his recommendation to her New Orleans bucket list. 

“Fun. I was surprised when one of the musicians started playing ice ice baby. I never really thought of it as a piano song,” she chuckles. 

“I loved the video Harry showed of you rapping it on stage.”

“Oh. He came over last week?” She adds some more ingredients as per the book and mixes them into the sauce. 

“Yeah to drop off my meds and he stayed over too. We geeked out over music, as usual. Missed you though. I didn’t know you could rap that good.”

“I’ve heard that song my whole life really; Appa (Dad) had it on repeat. Not that hard,” she shrugs. 

“You’re full of surprises, little girl.” He brings the toasted baguettes to her so she can spread some of that remoulade on the golden brown pockets of dough. 

“Your wife’s a genius. This po’ boy seems so different from the one I had in New Orleans. This is such a wealth of info, you really should look at printing this or typing this onto a computer,” she says, pointing to the book full of recipes. 

Earl smiles. He goes to sit on one of the bar stools at the island. “I forgot it was there, to be honest. You were the first person who made me open it up after a long time when you asked me to teach you Gumbo all those months ago.”

“Oh. Didn’t you kids or grandkids ever try to make something from this when they’d visit?”

“Not really. Her recipes are always elaborate and time intensive. Everyone came over to relax, so spending over two hours on a recipe wasn’t at the top of their list.”

“They’re missing out. I would love to have something like this,” she brings the excess sauce that had dribbled into her thumb to her mouth to suck it off. “I’ve been begging my grandmum to write down her recipes and she always goes ‘why don’t you ask me to die already,’” she laughs at her own high pitched voice she picked to mimic her grandmum; her voice was the furthest away from that. 

“I’m here!” His voice carries over to where the two were. 

“Hi,” Layla greets him, when he gets to the top of the staircase. He drops his white tote on the ram recliner, and beelines straight to the kitchen, bending down to kiss Layla’s cheek. 

“Yes, pretend like I don’t exist and go straight to your girlfriend,” Earl teases them. 

“Lovely afternoon, is it not?” Harry takes Earl’s hand and presses his lips to his knuckles, cracking them all up. 

Harry’s wearing a black button down with the word ‘Styles’ embroidered on his chest in white, against his chest. He was wearing a pair of hot pink and neon green checkered shorts - it looked like it was stitched from a curtain. His hair was not styled, his little clip at the top missing; instead his hair flopped down to his forehead, almost reaching down to his eyes. He looked so boyish, especially with the patchy scruff on his cheeks. He sits down on the stool next to Earl and drops his leather bound journal on the counter. 

“We’re having po’ boys for lunch?” He asks, watching Layla wash some tomatoes and lettuce. 

“Uh huh.” She answers, turning around to get the baked shrimp out of the oven. He can’t help but shamelessly stare at the swell of her ass as she bends down.

“Did you get me the snail poison?” Earl asks.

“Yeah. Left it downstairs in the greenhouse,” he answers.

“Wait, snail poison?!?” Layla exclaims.

“Yeah. There’s an infestation of them in my cabbage patches.”

“So you’re planning to kill them?”

Earl nods. “They’ve chowed down on almost all of my cabbages, those fat slimy bastards.”

“Don’t say that.” Layla scolds. “You can’t kill them,” she says in a stubborn voice.

“Oh yeah, little miss here is a lover of snails,” Harry chuckles at her cross demeanour.

“I’m sorry, Layla. I tried the natural route with the copper plate and it just didn’t work. It’s the only way.”

“No no. There has to be some other way to get rid of them without killing them,” she huffs, crossing her arms defensively against her chest.

“Well I’m all ears,” Earl says. 

“Umm…” She thinks, biting down on her bottom lip. “Oh! How about I pick them up one by one, put them in a cardboard box and release them in the park. Harry will help me,” she says determinedly.

“Fat chance. I’m not touching those slimy things. You’re on your own, baby.”

Layla shoots him a dirty look.

“Honey,” Earl sighs. “Even if you do manage to get all of those snails, there are still eggs and it’s not a guarantee. I need to sell those cabbages to the local farmers. They aren’t gonna be of much use if they have been chewed through,” he reminds her.

She pouts at the two of them like a petulant toddler knowing she’s lost the battle. “Fine. But I’m mad at the two of you.”

“What did I do?” Harry exclaims. “He’s the one who’s doing it.”

“But you were the one who’s aiding him with this whole ordeal by getting him the poison.” She pointedly says, the baking tray still in her hands. 

The next few minutes go by in silence as Layla gets to slicing up the tomatoes and lettuce. She keeps giving the two dirty looks every now and then as she arranges the thinly sliced tomatoes on a bed of lettuce.

“So what’s this?” Earl gestures to the journal hoping it would distract Layla. 

“Nothing important.”

“He'd rather die than tell you what’s in there Earl. Don’t even try, you’d only be wasting your time,” Layla informs, as she picks up a spoon to transfer the shrimp on top of the tomatoes. 

Harry rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

“Now I gotta know,” Earl turns towards him, giving him his full attention. 

“It’s just…” He could feel the tips of his ears getting hot and by the way Layla is smirking at him, he can only imagine the blush spreading on his face. “I write sometimes and - just like dabble in it,” he tries to explain, his hand subconsciously reaching for his book, splaying his hand protectively over it. 

“So, what do you write?” Earl asks. 

“Umm… just things. Things that I see, emotions I experience, things that I like, things that pop up in my head.” He slides the book closer to him. 

“So is it like poetry? I’m assuming because you read a lot of them,” Layla says, plating up their sandwiches. 

“Yeah. Sometimes I do write a bit of them… sometimes they’re like journal entries. Sometimes I write down something people around me have said. Could be a movie quote.”

“That explains the Winnie the Pooh quote,” Layla says more to herself but they all could hear. 

“Let’s head to the dining room. The boy’s uncomfortable. His ears are to his shoulders. Well, Harry, we get that it’s personal. But I would be happy to read whatever you write, if you are comfortable sharing.” Earl slips out of the barstool. “I’m gonna head to the restroom and wash up.”

“Thanks, Earl.” He nods and Earl squeezes his shoulders before he disappears into the hallway. 

“Har, can you um, reach that mason jar of hot honey,” she points to one of the cabinets, that was way placed much further away from her grasp; it was out of direct sunlight pouring in from the open window. 

“Yeah, short stuff.” He opens the counter and pulls out the glass jar with an exorbitant amount of sliced chillies. “I’m surprised your stubborn ass isn’t climbing over and getting it yourself.”

“Oh, I’m wearing skinny jeans and these ones really restrict my movement, especially at the thighs, so can’t really bend my legs more than ninety degrees. But they make my butt look so good. Plus, I think I’ve lost some weight, it’s loose around my tummy and hips,” she explains, getting the jar from him and popping it open to spoon some of that spicy honey onto all of their sandwiches. A slight drizzle for Harry and Earl, and two generous tablespoons -with all the sliced chillies -for her. 

“Oh is the fermented honey thing you and Earl were making a week ago?”

“Yup. His wife’s cookbook is a wealth of all things fermentation. I didn’t even know you could add things to honey. Can you help me put these plates on the table?”

“Sure. Almost forgot to tell you this.” He gets closer to her, lips close to her ear like he’s gonna share a secret. “You look beautiful today,” he says, trailing his fingertips down her cheek. His feathery stroke tickles when he gets to the column of her neck, making her squirm. “Your shirt is just marvellous,” he cockily smirks, fingers coming to clasp her gold elephant pendant that rested on the centre of her collarbones.

“Is that so?” She smiles, rolling her eyes. She was wearing his shirt. A light cream shirt with vertical dark green stripes, she’d left the first few buttons undone - just like he would. She paired it with her favourite black skinny jeans, that she’s refused to part with since high school. Her signature hoops in her ear. The gold butterfly in her conch and the single diamond of her helix stud shimmers, throwing off fractals of sunlight. She had put a lip tint on, some brown liner at the outer corner of her lids, smudged to create an illusion of fuller lashes, her eyebrows bushy and straight - she hadn’t threaded it for a few weeks now, some shimmery gloss on the centre of her lids - making the gold particles scintillate on her honey wheat skin. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, her bangs straight and unstyled, tucked behind her ears. 

“Almost warrants a thank you to the person that bought it,” he says in a sing-song manner. His other hand comes up to her face, thumb rubbing her full bottom lip. 

“Guess, I better call my boyfriend and thank him. Wonder what he’d say though,” she teases.

“I don’t know this boyfriend fellow of yours, but it were me I’d say something along the lines of ‘I know. My fashion taste is impeccable. Almost as impeccable as the way it’s draped on your body.” He bends down to button her lips against his. 

“Idiot,” Layla mutters, when they break apart, chest heaving to draw in air. “Go set the table, will you,” she pushes him towards the dining room.

They scroll on their phones, waiting for Earl as they settle into the dining chairs. Harry shows her a funny meme and they both giggle as Earl makes his way towards the two.

“You okay?” Layla asks immediately, brows furrowing in concern.

“Yeah.” He replies in a soft voice, mopping his face with his pocket handkerchief. 

“You look ashen. What’s wrong?” She prods, watching him sit, more slowly than normal.

“Just got a bit light headed when I was washing my face,” she says.

“We can go to the hospital. I’ll call mum and get my car,” Harry offers immediately.

“You two worry so much,” he chuckles. “I’m old these things happen more often now. It’s not the first time. I’ll be fine.”

“Earl,” Layla starts.

“I’m fine. Must just be from not eating. I only had a banana for breakfast. I’m sure I’ll perk up after lunch,” his eyes flit to the stuffed po’ boy in front of him. 

“But if you feel ill in any way, let me know and we’ll go straight to the hospital,” Harry says.

Earl nods. The rest of their lunch goes in silence, all of them eating while listening to Idle Moments by Grant Greene. Earl can’t help but notice the little things between the two of them and how much they were in sync with each other. When Layla looks around the table for something, midbite, Harry wordlessly heads to the kitchen and brings her the bottle of sriracha. She smiles and says a muffled thank you to him, mouthful of food, and sheepishly smiles at the two of them as she proceeds to paint the inside of her sandwich with the fiery red condiment. When Harry knocks Layla’s phone off the table with his elbows, as he takes a sip of water, he watches Layla cover the edge of the wooden table with her  palm while he’s bending down to pick her phone and on cue, Harry being klutzy as ever bumps into the same spot but comes in contact with her hand and not the sharp edge.

After lunch, the two head downstairs to clean up the floor shop and close up orders for the day. They’d convinced Earl to head to bed and not open up the shop for the rest of the day. 

Harry’s using the swiffer to clean up the floor while Layla was standing on a step stool busy peering into her phone for different fonts - a white chalk in hand, as she writes down tomorrow’s special deals on the chalkboard. They each had one of Layla’s Airpods popped into their ear, while it was connected to Harry’s phone - playing tracks from his playlist. Irene Cara  starts crooning What a Feeling and Harry slowly makes his way over to her, putting his arms around his neck and he wraps his hands around her waist, pulling her body flush to his.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs, lips brushing against her neck, making her shiver.

“Can’t,” she smirks against his jaw. He pulls back to look at her face and frowns. “I’m on a step stool. Very restricting movement wise, I’m afraid,” she teases him.

“Dickhead,” he whispers, rolling his eyes. God, was she a menace. “Sway with me then?”

“I’d like that very much.”

They both sway together, smiling at each other, both lovestruck fools - but one unable to recognise that. The added height for Layla changed things for them, instead of burrowing her face into his chest, this time they were almost on par with each other. Harry resting his nose on top of hers, their breaths igniting warmth against their skin, chests indescribably close, lips a hairline away from one and another - brushing every now and then as they moved. Smiles stretching across their faces, dimples fully making an appearance on their cheeks.  Green eyes locked with her hickory hued orbs. Harrys mutters many ‘I love you’s in between the verses. They both felt so incredibly cocooned with each others’ endearment. It’s not a common occurrence, you see, seeing a stranger through your window and having them tight in your arms - a few months later, as you are baring your soul to them.

“Harry?” She says after the song ends

“Hmm,” he hums, in a drunken haze.

“Does it ever…” she trails off.

“Ever what, Lails?”

“Does it bother you that I haven’t said I love you back?” She asks him, lips gnawing on her bottom lip, eyes focusing  - on her painting that Earl had hung up - behind his ear.

“Why would it bother me? I told you this last time, remember… I don’t want you to rush in any way or feel like you need to tell me that you love me. I can wait. I just need you to know that I do.” He kisses her temple.

“It’s just…” Her lower lip trembles and Harry can’t help but rub this thumb over it. “J-Ju-Just,” she stumbles with her words, chest heaving a sob threatening to breach the levee. 

“Hey,” he coos. His hands come to tightly grip the back of her thighs, right where her bum ends, and plops her on the counter, nudging her knees and wiggling himself in between. His hands come to cup her face, lifting her head to read her eyes. “What is it? You can tell me anything,” he prods.

A bead slips down one of her eyes and he’s quick to wipe it away with his thumb. “It’s just that I feel so guilty when you say it and I don’t. Initially when you said it, it was all tingly but now I just feel bad that I can’t. You don’t deserve this. You’re so nice to me all the time and I feel like you should be with someone who deserves you, you know.” Her heavy wet eyelashes blink up at him.

“Lails, it is not your place to tell me what I deserve. I need to - no, I want to be with you. You don’t get to tell me otherwise. You’re the one I want - on purpose. I choose you on purpose. I’m sorry you’re feeling guilty. But you should have told me about this sooner, baby. Should I stop saying it? Would that help?” He tucks a loose lock of her hair behind her ear. 

Layla thinks about it, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes flitting down to his shirt she’s wearing; she inspects the way the fabric is bunched around the tops thighs. She smooths out the creases with her fingers, feeling the seam of her jeans digging into the side of her thighs - protesting against her movement.

“No,” she says, timidly. “I don’t know,” she huffs out frustratedly. “Maybe, I’m not explaining this properly.” She uses the back of her hand to wipe her nose. “I’m scared.”

“Scared?” He asks, eyebrows arching up as he caresses her cheeks, hoping to provide her some comfort.

“It’s just that I am not very comfortable or good at expressing affection towards others. Especially, verbally. Like it’s much more valuable in a way. Especially if I bring myself to tell someone that I love them and it will just make it that much harder to lose them.” She sniffles. “What I’m blabbering… I can’t umm..” she tries, but tears spring to her eyes, and she screws them shut, trying to even out her breathing - hunkering that memory deep down.

Layla was ten, she was busy hiding in the kitchen, using her new craft punches that her father dropped off at school when he came to visit. She only saw him at school now. Sometimes her grandparents would come with him. Her mother didn’t want her talking to them, so she’d kept it a secret. She kept the fact that her father, and sometimes her grandparents would come visit her in school grounds, after school hours for forty minutes. Her mother didn’t know about it because she had basketball practice till four thirty, and her mother came to pick her up after practice. He’d bought her a set of those paper punches which cut paper into different shapes. The same punchers, she used to make confetti with her colourful origami papers - she cut out many flowers, stars, hearts, butterflies, and fishes. Her mother had been sad when she came to pick her up. She had been sad all through that evening, so after Layla made dinner for them, her mother’s favourite - a simple vermicelli upma, she’d gone to execute her plan in motion. She went up to her mother, who was at the dining table, looking at a stack of papers wistfully and threw the confetti in her direction shouting a very loud ‘I love you, Amma’ - hoping it would cheer her up. But it went horribly wrong, her mother was startled, causing her to tip the opened water bottle all over the papers on the table. Her mother shouted profanities at her as Layla begged for forgiveness, she got up and grabbed a fistful of Layla’s hair and slammed it right on to the closest brick wall. ‘லூசுநாயே (stupid bitch)’ she yelled. Her jaw came into contact with cement first but Layla had managed to block the rest of her face from the wall by putting her palms in between her face and the wall. She couldn’t feel the pain but noticed blood on her shirt before she realised that blood was spouting from her mouth; she'd lost her first ever baby tooth from the impact - she’d found it two days later under the fridge, she’d later buried it in her backyard hoping she would grow a plant that would have teeth as flowers. Her mother quickly apologises telling her she didn’t mean to and she did this because she loves her, as she ushered Layla to the bathroom to help her rinse out the blood in her mouth. That was the last time she’d ever said I love you.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles shakily to Harry, after she’d shoved down that memory, blinking back the film in her eyes that made her vision hazy.

“It’s alright. You’re alright,” he tells her, he could tell she was struggling with something. 

“It’s just that, it makes it more real, you know. And if something were to happen, it would make losing you so much harder. And I selfishly don’t want that.” She finishes. “I’m being stupid. Sorry.” 

“Sweet girl,” he utters, resting his forehead against hers.

A snort escapes her lips and her hands immediately come to cover her mouth. “Sorry.” She giggles.

“Shut up. I don’t call you that only during sex,” he whines. Finding himself giggling with her even through his denial. 

“Do you want me to start counting again?” She laughs.

“Don’t be a dickhead.” He presses his lips against her forehead.

“Can’t help it you know,” she shrugs.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he says, coming back to cup her face, feeling how warm her cheeks have gotten against his palms.

“Just know this, you mean the world to me, Har.”

////

“Thank you!” Layla tells the woman behind the counter with a polite smile as she tucks her receipt in her bag. She pushes the wooden panelled glass door of UPS and steps out onto the sidewalk. 

She smooths out her now empty white tote that had her painting and folds it into a small square and slips it into the compartment of the black shoulder coach bag she “borrowed” from Abi. 

Layla walks around town aimlessly for a while strolling to note how more people preferred sitting inside bistros than in the outdoor seating area. How the bright yellow and orange leaves were now more on the pavement than on the trees. Hotter drinks were a source of invitation into coffee shops, their icy refreshing drinks nowhere to be found on the chalkboards. How almost all the Halloween decorations outside of shop windows were sparse. Her breath hitches in her throat, a burn simmers in her tightening chest, she feels her lungs strain to exhale. She coughs into the crook of her elbow. Changing of the season had also set off her wheezing. No more backyard yoga in the mornings, she thinks as she shakes her turquoise inhaler before wrapping her lips around the mouth and pressing on the canister for a puff. She stays out on the sidewalk for a few seconds letting the meds do their work in freeing up her lungs, when a bright red and yellow sign catches her eye. She sticks her hand in to fish out her phone as she drops the inhaler back in her purse. 

Layla: i’m downtown. fancy something from McDonalds?

Harry: Egg and cheese McGirddles, fries, and an Oreo McFlurry. 

Layla: see you soon!!

Harry: Love you x

Layla : i know!!! xxx

It's almost midday when Layla turns into the familiar street, a shiver runs up her spine when a cool gust of wind picks up. Her body can’t handle wearing her Dad’s running shorts anymore, it was baggy and stopped right above her knees and the wind was just not working in her favour. She's glad her Uncle zipped her up in his NASCAR jacket because that was the only thing that’s keeping her teeth from chattering. The warmth of the fast food seeing through the thin brown paper bag keeps her hands toasty. Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low was blasting through her AirPods. She must definitely start layering to keep up with the November weather. 

As she turns into the familiar street, she hears someone call out her name. Her brow furrows as she pops one of her AirPods out to check and she hears it again. This time clearer.

“Layla! Kanna!” Nandhini Aunty’s familiar voice booms from across the other side of the street. She was standing outside of her garage. Her empty driveway now houses three new cars. A red hatchback had its truck wide open and Layla could see the trunk filled with different sized suitcases.

She smiles at her giving a polite wave in return hoping that it was just a simple exchange of pleasantries. Her stomach had been growling on her way back and all she could think of was pouring out the honey mustard sauce from the small dipping container onto her chicken sandwich. But Nandhini Aunty had other plans as she waved her over towards her house.

“What now?” She mutters to herself as she crosses the street with a smile, she was still salty that Nandhini Aunty ratted her and Harry out to her folks.

“Hello, kanna! How are you?” Nandhini Aunty smiles warmly at her, crows feet becoming more pronounced as she grins wider.

“Hi Aunty! I’m doing well. How are you? Must be super busy with the wedding in ten days.”

“Oh yes, kanna. Very very busy. We have family slated to come this entire week. In fact that’s why I called you over-”

“Oh, sure. What do you need Aunty? I can come and help out.” Layla immediately responds. 

Dammit! Why did I fucking say that?!? She mentally smacks her forehead.

“No no, kanna. How sweet of you to offer but we’ve got it under control. I just want you to meet some of the cousins who’ve come in today. Just thought it would be nice for you to hang out with people your age.”

Layla laughs. “Nandhini Aunty, I hang out with Harry all the time.”

“I just meant someone from our culture. It’ll do you some good,” she responds, as she takes one of her hands between hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. Layla’s brows furrow as she looks at their hands.

“பசங்களா! லேலாவை சந்திக்க வாருங்கள்! (Kids! Come meet Layla!)” She yells out in the direction of the open front door. 

Layla awkwardly stands there until she sees two men rush out in jeans and the flashiest sneakers. They were both obnoxiously rambunctious, shoving and cackling amongst themselves as they barreled towards the two of them.

“Where’s Pooja?” Nandhini Aunty asks one of the boys.

“Oh, she’s feeding the baby. Prasath’s helping her like the good husband he is,” the man with the buzzcut tells her. “Hi, I’m Dhruv,” he extends his hand out boisterously to Layla.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Layla,” she introduces herself by wiggling her hand out of Nandhini’s grasp and gives Dhruv a firm shake. He was short but very built and had a long beard. His red shoes catch her eyes. “Cool shoes,” she compliments him.

“Thanks!” He beams.

“Those Jordans are his most prized possessions.” The other one tells her. “I’m Ashwin.” He extends his hand out in a more timid manner. His hair was wiry and the way it was cut made it so that it was fluffy at the top and with a fade on both sides. He had a navy blue jumper that had a bright red vertical stripe at his torso.  

“Hi, Ashwin. Layla.” She shakes his hand and notices him fiddle with the belt loop of his jeans with his other hand.

“Layla here is getting her PhD soon,” Nandhini Aunty boasts.

“I have to get accepted into a school first though. But I appreciate your confidence,” she chuckles.

“Oh god. Nandhi Aunty is the worst! She went around telling everyone that I got into law school,” Dhruv tells Layla.

“That was seven years ago and not everyday someone I know gets into Harvard. I’ll be telling it some more at the wedding. We need to get you some proposals, you’re almost 32. When I was your age I had two children who were in elementary school,” Nandhini shakes her head, making the three roll their eyes.

“Sucks to be you,” Ashwin mocks.

“Don’t think you’re free, Ash. You’re mother and I are already in talks of finding you a girl. We need to start now.”

“But I’m only 27. You should really redirect your focus on this old unmarried cow here,” he points to Dhruv, making Layla laugh. She mumbles a quiet apology to Dhruv.

“No redirection of attention. You work at Apple now and-”

“You work at Apple? That’s so cool. You’re basically living the NRI dream,” Layla interjects Nandhini.

“Yeah. Been there for over two years now. Loving everything San Francisco has to offe-”

“Do you want to join us for lunch, Layla? You can hang out with them and I’m sure my daughter would love to meet you,” Nandhini Aunty interjects.

“Oh no. Thank you for the offer but I have lunch plans with Harry,” she lifts up the takeaway bag to emphasise her point. “I’ll be happy to hang out some other time.”

“We’re going to watch Beast in theatres in a few days. Do you wanna join us?” Dhruv asks.

“Oh, I’ve been listening to Halamithi Habibo all week! But I don’t wanna impose on a family activity.”

“Please. The more the merrier. It’s just us cousins.” Ashwin says.

“I didn’t know they released Tamil movies here.”

“They do in some theatres. Especially in places with a Tamil crowd. We have to drive to Charlotte to watch it.”

“Ah I see. You can count me in. I’m excited to see if it’ll top Thuppakki though. I doubt it but I’m willing to give it a chance,” Layla tells them, rocking on her heels.

“Super. We’ll let you know once we’ve booked tickets.” Ashwin tells her with a smile.

“Alright. See you all!” She waves and crosses the road to Harry’s house.

She gets in front of the door and opens up the brown bag and pulls out her french fry bag and pulls out a handful of them and drops them at the bottom of the bag. It may be a silly thing to do but she’ll never forget the look on Harry’s face, on their trip to Cape Hatteras and they opted to go through a drive through for lunch,  when he discovered some loose extra french fries at the bottom of the bag. He declared that the gods of luck were on their side and swore that the loose french fries tasted so much better than the ones in the bag. She places the bag on the white railing and tries to seal both the brown bag and the french fry bag, so it looks inconspicuous. She’s been doing this every time they got fast food and the last thing she wants is for Harry to know that she tampered with it. 

She rings the doorbell once she’s done and waits for him to answer the door. She could easily punch in the code and walk into the house but she prefers it this way. She hears some heavy shuffling of his feet and a few seconds later the door swings open. 

“Hi, baby!” He yells still sweaty, from what Layla assumes was his pre-lunch workout session session. His hair was all gathered in a spout with a clip and the blue bandana, she got from New Orleans was tied around his head to keep the sweat off his face. He was shirtless and was just wearing the tiniest shorts she’d ever seen - it didn’t even cover an inch of the tiger tattoo on his thigh - and a pair of white socks.

“Hi you! I come bearing junk!” She exclaims, getting on her tippy toes to give him a big kiss.

“Hmm.” He sighs when their lips touch. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She asks. “The food or the kiss?”

“Bit of both really,” he smirks, grabbing the bag from her hand and opens it up, shuffling the contents in the process.

“Sweeeet!” He exclaims. “Loose fries!” He picks three up and pops it into his mouth. “I swear they’re laced with cocaine or some shit. Tastes so fucking better than normal fries,” he declared with his mouth full of fried potato. 

“Oh, I know,” she agrees with him in a soft voice, a fond smile stretching across her face. 

  LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

[jimilter]

riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing:  kim seokjin x reader

rating:  m (18+)

genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 

You felt dispensable. 

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 

You can — but you really don’t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 

You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh. 

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission. 

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

���Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 

He’s right, isn’t he? 

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg​

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

© jimilter | 2021

[moongoddessmox]

What's Your Name? Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: 18+, smut, brief mentions of Hydra torture, angst?

Word Count: 4,000

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Black!Reader

Summary: The Winter Soldier may not remember his name, but he can't help but protect you from Hydra. Now that you're on the run with him, you can't deny the feelings that grow.

A/N: This sat for way too long being unfinished, smh. But here we are! I decided to say the reader is black because I am black, and I struggle with envisioning myself in reader inserts even without any description. I'm trying to unlearn a lot of shit from being underrepresented, and while I don't describe anything about the reader, I want y'all to know this is a black person and that all my stories are black people. Even if I don't say it. (That will be changing) As always, it is crossposted on mox-writes for notification purposes! Please reblog and comment! <3

Masterlist | Mox-Writes

You almost tripped into the motel room as the tall, bulky man with you practically tossed you inside. Fumbling toward the bed, you got your bearings by sitting on the mattress with a bounce. You watched his every move. He stood straight; he was emotionless and quiet as he shut the door and locked it, eyeing the surroundings from the window to make sure you weren't followed.

You weren't sure why he saved you, and honestly, neither was he. But when he brought you to the Hydra base and they started testing on you like they'd done with him, something ignited in him and he broke you out, killing anyone in his path. He hadn't said a word to you, only glared as if to see if you were okay–or it could've been with hatred, you couldn't tell.

That was seven days ago. You had been traveling with him to God knows where, tossed into rooms and being watched while you slept. There was one moment where he softened up, and strictly because he was injured. Hydra had found you two days in and had shot him square in the gut. After he managed to get you to safety, he attempted to patch up his wound himself but was doing a pretty lax job of it. You offered to help after seeing how haphazard his patchwork was, and after he gave you a steely glare of death, had actually allowed you to stitch it.

He still never spoke, just loomed and watched. And admittedly, you watched him too. He was a gorgeous man, his long dark hair and blue eyes were mesmerizing; the way he’d tuck loose strands behind his ear only for it to fall forward again with a glimmer of annoyance in his eye. He'd grown more scruff on your journey and you found it almost irresistible. Almost because he was the man that got you into this whole dangerous situation to begin with. However, you couldn't help but have growing feelings for him after he repeatedly saved you and brought you food. And it wasn’t like he was mean, though any little act of kindness was enough for you, your bar for men was practically in hell.

You didn't even know his name, only that Hydra called him Soldier, or rather, Soldat. You'd ask him, trying to engage him in some type of conversation, but he never budged. He never said a word, not even an affirming glint in his eye as you tried to guess his name. Paul? Jack? John? Demitri? Xavier? You tried the most to least common names you could think of, every day a new set of names would pop into your head and you'd try again. It was like talking to a brick wall. You'd flick through the channels of the crappy motel TV and ask, "is it Chuck? No, you don't look like a Chuck, maybe Dean? Sam? Nothing? Maybe you don't have a name, maybe you were born and they just called you Boy Number 11," you'd shrug and change the channel again.

As he took off his gun from around his body, he slid down the wall into his usual sitting position. He faced the door, gun in his lap and eyes trained on you. You sighed, knowing the routine all too well. You'd take a nap while he kept watch and would be woken up in four hours to be on the move again, in silence.

"Ya know, you could at least say good night, it's only polite," you shrugged, folding back the blanket and inspecting it for any stains or bugs. You didn't look at him, you knew he wasn't going to respond but you talked anyway.

“Don’t you get tired? I mean, you look exhausted, no offense,” you glanced at him, seeing his eyes shift from the door to you for a second then back to their previous spot. “Right, so you should at least take a nap. There’s plenty of space on the bed, I don’t mind sharing. Hell, I’ll even take the floor.” He didn’t move, not risking another look at you again.

Something about you made him feel different, like a memory that he couldn’t quite recall. It bothered him. He was trained to kill, to complete the mission, and report back to Hydra. But when he saw you in that chair being shocked, a strange feeling came over him, it was like he wasn’t who he thought he was but he just couldn’t remember anything other than what he was told. The longer you were together, the more he felt like that like there was something missing, some piece to a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. You were humanizing him and he didn’t realize he needed it.

You kicked off your shoes and took off your jacket, laying it on the smoke-stained chair that was pushed in against a table. You looked down at yourself, your clothes were dirty and bloody, covered in mud, dust, and god-knows-what. You were desperate for a shower and a clean set of clothes, but seeing as you were on the run, you didn’t exactly have a change of clothes to get into. Alas, you decided that this mysterious soldier would just have to put up with your attempt at getting clean, even if that meant staying in the motel for a few hours longer than usual.

“Look, I need to bathe and I don’t want to put on the same dirty clothes, so I gotta at least rinse them in the tub. Which means we have to wait for them to dry, just letting you know.” You gestured with your hands, giving a small shrug and heading toward the bathroom. The soldier didn’t protest, but you heard him breathe a lengthy sigh; at least it was a reaction.

You came out of the bathroom in just a towel. You scrubbed your clothes as best you could with a little bit of hand soap, rinsing them in the tub, and hanging them to dry on the shower rod. You walked past him, still sitting on the floor with his eyes trained on the entrance. You held the towel in place so that it didn’t fall, although you weren’t totally against the idea of him seeing you in the nude, he was pretty cute.

You sat on the bed, tucking yourself under the blanket and letting the towel rest beneath you, uncovering most of your figure. Your body ached, it longed for the comfort of a soft bed, something cozy and clean, something familiar. You felt a little better after your shower, and it was enough for you to drift off to sleep, saying an unrequited goodnight to your rescuer.

Two hours later, you woke up shivering. The crisp air of winter seeped through the poorly sealed window and door of the motel. You pulled the blanket up to your chin, trying to snuggle deeper into the bed for warmth that wouldn’t arrive. You looked over at the man on the floor; he was still awake and watching the door, it didn’t appear that he had moved much. He looked cold, his cheeks and nose were flushed pink, and you swore you could see the goosebumps on his neck.

“Ya know, you’re allowed to get in the bed, you look cold and there’s plenty of space up here,” you pulled the blanket to expose the empty side of the mattress, inviting him in. He only glanced at you, not saying a word–not that you expected him to. You sighed and let your head rest against the pillow.

“Or, you could come over here and warm me up. If you’re going to drag me around the country, you could at least do that,” you shrugged, turning over to face the other wall. You tried to wrap the blanket around you, curling up into a ball and closing your eyes. Unexpectedly, the bed dipped and you felt him sit with his back against the headboard. You perked up and turned over, seeing him sit with one leg extended and the other pulled up with his foot flat against the mattress.

You didn’t say anything, just smiled and pressed your body against his extended leg. He was cold like you thought, but the embrace of another body quickly warmed the both of you up. You gently put the blanket over his leg and he tensed up, flashing his cold blue eyes to your movements and grabbing your wrist. His grip was tight, the way you’d grab an enemy to stop an attack. His face was full of alarm and confusion.

“Relax, it’s okay, I just want you to be warm too,” he hesitated, it looked as if he was processing the moment, taking in what was happening and trying to analyze it in every possible way. Finally, he relaxed just a little and let you cover him but stayed in his position, still quiet. He held his gun against his chest, the long rifle an intimidating sight above your head. You hadn’t been this close to him the entire time you were on the run–even when you were patching up his wound, he kept you at arm's length. He was large and muscular, the dark clothes he wore hugging him perfectly. His left arm was metal and you could see your reflection in the silver.

You rested your head on his hip, slinging your arm over his thigh and gripping the blanket to trap the warmth. He looked down at you getting comfortable, he didn’t know how to register the newfound closeness; something was stirring in him that he couldn’t describe. His face remained flush but this time it wasn’t because of the cold, he was blushing.

After a couple minutes, you couldn’t get the weapon out of your mind. You tried to ignore it but the looming presence kept you from getting back to sleep. You looked up at the gun, uncomfortable with a loaded weapon being in bed with you. As your eyes trailed the length of the gun to his face, you saw him glance at you.

“I know you’re being protective and everything, and I appreciate that, don’t get me wrong. But the gun is kinda scary, Mystery Man,” you pulled your eyebrows together, waiting for him to say something or move the gun away. You saw a small hint of embarrassment? In his eyes and after a moment, he placed the gun on the bedside table. The corner of your mouth twitched, holding back a smile as you nestled back into him with a “thanks”. He rested his flesh hand on the handle of the knife that sat in a holster on his thigh, ready to extract and throw it if need be.

Despite his unsettling feelings over saving you, he didn’t want to scare you. It was a strange feeling for him, normally he wouldn’t care, normally anyone who had no purpose to him would be dead, but he wanted you to be safe. Especially the longer you were together. Your guessing game of his name went unanswered because he wasn’t even sure what his name was, every one that you said didn’t feel right, although the J’s and B’s felt a little closer, but it wasn’t quite there. All he knew was that he had a strange sense to protect you.

The new warmth and absence of the gun weren’t enough for you to fall back asleep. His closeness was drawing new feelings from your body that you tried to stifle to no avail. You wondered if he felt it too; you could tell he was getting gentler with you, some would say he even cared about you. You didn’t know how long it had been, if ever, since someone treated him well–especially sexually.

The arousal that filled your body as it was pressed against his couldn’t be ignored any longer. You chanced a glance at him, seeing his eyes look heavy as he watched the door. He looked so tired, you just wanted him to relax and get some sleep. Maybe I can help him sleep, you thought to yourself, flicking your eyes to the belt of his pants. You bit your bottom lip, playing out the scenario in your head and wondering if it was a good idea. You decided to try, slowly inching your fingers closer to his inner thigh. He looked down at the movement, feeling your hand slip across his body until it was pressed between his thick legs.

His eyes were wide, suddenly wide awake and surprised by what was happening, unsure how to react. He didn’t expect you to feel that way about him and he didn’t expect himself to feel it either, all he could do was watch as you trailed your fingertips up the zipper of his pants. You could feel him twitch under your touch, his pants getting tighter as he grew beneath them. You looked up at him to see him watching intently. The room was dark, the only light came from the moon through the blinds and cast a shadow over his face. Only his eyes were lit and they were filled with a confused lust.

“Is this okay?” you asked as you fiddled with his belt, watching for any sign that you should stop. He was nervous, uncertainty running through his mind as he battled with himself over the feeling. He wanted it, yes, but he had been so deprived of any kind of love that it felt out of place for him. He didn’t speak, only clenched his jaw and softly nodded yes, deciding to take a chance on the feelings that were rising in his body. You smiled, eyes glinting with adoration and kindness, taking it slow so you didn’t make him uncomfortable. You undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and slipped your hand into his boxer briefs. He was already hard and aching for relief. He was long and thick, a veiny shaft met your eager hand and twitched under your touch.

You curled your fingers around him, the tightness of his boxers pressing you harder against his member, making it hard to stroke him properly. The tease alone almost brought him to orgasm. It had been years since he felt any pleasure, just going from war to war and never having a moment’s peace.

“Can I take them off?” you removed your hand and gently tugged on his pants, asking for permission to reveal him fully. He nodded again. You wished you could hear his voice, to hear your name roll of his tongue as he fucked you, but he remained silent. He lifted his hips from the bed as you slipped off his pants, exposing just how big he was. Your eyes widened at the sight, swallowing hard as you imagined him fucking you.

As you crawled up his legs under the blanket, it opened enough for him to see your naked body. He watched you with lustful eyes, seeing your perfect frame come up his body. You stopped when your hips were lined up with his and sat down, his cock pressed against your throbbing wetness. He parted his lips and breathed deeply, the anticipation almost killing him. You watched his face, you could see him twisting inside, waiting to feel you around him. You pressed your hands against his chest, his leather vest still hugging his body, and leaned forward until your lips were almost touching his.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. His eyes softened. No one had ever complimented him like that before, it was odd for him to hear the words. He moved his hands to your hips, the moonlight gracing your bare body like a chiaroscuro painting.

“I wish I knew your name, I want to moan it in your ear as you fill me up,” you whispered low, grazing your lips across his cheek to his ear. He furrowed his brows, pained that he couldn’t tell you, he wanted to hear it fall from your lips but he just couldn’t remember. You rolled your hips, sliding your clit across his shaft slowly, coating him in your wetness. His grip on your hips tightened, lust taking over his body and sending tingles across his skin. You moaned softly, closing your eyes and pressing your cheek against his as you lifted your hips and lined up his tip to your entrance.

“Fuck me,” a name flashed in your head, like a sign from the universe, an instinct that slipped out of your mouth in the next second, “fuck me, James.” You looked in his eyes, realization washing over them, like a flood of memories being replayed in a montage.

“Bucky.” He spoke finally. His voice was low and guttural, it immediately sent goosebumps down your spine and twisted your stomach in knots. “James Bucky Barnes.” one of his hands went to your cheek, pressing your face down to his as his lips meshed with yours. You moaned against him, newfound confidence came over him and he panted into your mouth. You pushed your hips down against his body, sliding his thick cock into your vagina, feeling him stretch you out so perfectly, so deliciously that you gasped out your next moan.

Bucky, Bucky, it was so perfect. A name that finally fit. He was overcome by his emotions of simply remembering his name, it beckoned a gentle dominance in him and he took control. Bucky’s metal hand guided your hips back and forth, rocking you gently on his cock, slipping in and out ever so slightly to get you comfortable. You moaned against his wet lips, tongues clashing together and tasting every inch of the other’s mouth.

“Oh, Bucky,” you moaned in between kisses. His chest heaved as he heard his name, the intensity of his lust growing by the second. “Your cock feels so good,” you slid one hand down his chest, holding yourself steady as you slid further from his cock then back down. Bucky groaned, the cold air chilling the wetness on his thick member before being encased in your warmth again.

Bucky’s rough hands gripped your back, pressing you tight against his chest before rolling over and pinning you to the mattress. His long hair fell around his face and curtained yours underneath him. You could barely see his eyes until you tucked the right side of his hair behind his ear, exposing his skin to the moonlight. You looked at him in awe. He truly was gorgeous, the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Your hand stayed on his face and you stroked his cheek with your thumb. Bucky looked at you for a moment, taking in your beauty. He felt warm, comfortable, and stable when he was with you. Like he was meant for more than being the winter soldier.

After a moment, he brought his lips back down to yours in a soft kiss. A gentleness he didn’t know he was capable of. Your hands moved to the back of his head, holding his hair in place as his kisses became more ravenous. He kissed and sucked on your lips, moving down your jaw to your neck. Bucky was still inside you, his cock throbbing in your wet warmth, begging to be stroked again. He began thrusting his hips, his eyes capturing yours as he slid slowly out, pounding back in with a quick and hard thrust. You gasped at the movement, it knocked the wind from your lungs each time and he groaned into your neck.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to open yourself up more, allowing him unrestrained access to fuck you deeper. Bucky sped up, wet slapping filling the cold air as he grunted through each thrust. Your moans got louder, falling on his ears like sweet music, his name trembling out from your lips between moans and curses.

“B-Bucky, you feel so good, f-fuck, you fuck me so good,” your walls were clenching as he melted into your words. The affirmations only made him hornier. His teeth pulled your skin roughly enough to leave behind marks, a symbol of his pleasure that you would wear confidently. It only took a few more thrusts for him to feel the knot in his stomach tighten, his metal hand cupping your cheek and other hand on your thigh as he gave you his last rough thrusts, spilling his warm load into your dripping pussy.

The sound he made was feral, a loud gritted grunt that turned into a little guttural battlecry. You immediately felt your own orgasm snap in your stomach, spilling out onto his veiny cock as he rode out the rest of his high. Your legs were trembling around his body, becoming too weak to stay wrapped, and eventually fell to the mattress. Bucky stayed inside you for a moment while he caught his breath, panting into your skin as he settled back down to earth. After a moment, he rolled off your body and sat on the edge of the bed. You looked at his back, waiting to see what he would do next. Would he stay in bed with you? Go back to his spot on the floor?

Bucky stood from the bed without a word, walking around it and heading to the bathroom. You furrowed your brows, was he really just going to discard you like that? Not even say a word to you? You curled up under the blanket, suppressing a sob that wanted to break out. After a second, Bucky came out with a warm, wet rag and stood beside the bed. Oh.

“Can I?” he spoke softly, motioning toward your messy thighs. You blushed, heat burning your cheeks at the thought of him cleaning you up.

“Sure, yeah,” despite having just exposed yourself to him, you couldn’t help the blush that tingled under your skin as he cleaned up the mess the two of you made, wiping gently down your thighs where your orgasm sprayed further than you thought. Once you were clean, he took the rag back to the bathroom and turned on the shower. No more than 3 minutes later, he came back out, towel around his waist, damp hair messily framing his face, and glistening chest on full display. He climbed back into bed next to you and timidly glanced over, a shyness in his eyes as he wasn’t sure if you’d want to lay on him.

You took the initiative to turn on your side and lay your arm across his body, he smelled nice. Granted, it was the cheapest motel soap imaginable, but it was better than the week-long sweat from before. You weren’t even bothered by it though, the pure lust you felt for him had taken a hold of your body and you didn’t care about his dirty vest or unbathed body.

Bucky was gentle as he wrapped his arm around your back, hugging you closer to him and letting his guard down just a bit. He still had his weapons in reach, but with you on his side, he felt a type of security he’d never felt before. You made him feel whole, special, and human.

“Uh, thanks,” he spoke softly. You looked up at him with confusion, unsure what he could possibly be thanking you for.

“For what?” he looked down at you, blue eyes boring into yours like he found his purpose in life. He couldn’t describe the feeling that had his heart clenched tight, it was new and frightening. He wasn’t sure how to navigate it, he felt fear for the lack of control he had over it. Over love.

“For making me remember.” Your face softened, tears almost welling up in your eyes. You shoved your head back down to his chest, snuggling in deep and tightening your hold on him. You were glad he saved you from Hydra because now you saved him.

[ry0chann]

i wasn’t that thirsty for oda until i read ur writing for him and WHEWWW. *fans self* u are too good at this. could u possibly write a piece where oda takes y/n’s virginity and y/n has a praise kink?? 👉👈

haha thank you!! 🥰 and yes i can

a lesson in something new

pairing // Odasaku Sakunosuke x fem!reader

genre // smut

wc. // 4056

warnings // ⚠️ nsfw!! , college au, teacher/student relationship, slight public sex (ig?), fingering (f), vaginal penetration, virgin!reader, loss of virginity

notes // goodbye there's so much plot, why am i like this? i could've just made it pwp but nooo, i just had to give context smh.. it’s still good imo tho. also, the praise kink part is very very subtle- i just didn't want it to be too dialogue heavy

(tagging @nameless-shrimp bc she very kindly read this before it was even close to being complete. i appreciate the feedback, ty shrimp <3)

Sitting in his class was always difficult. His stare was so gentle but it intimidated you; it made you nervous. Every time his eyes landed on you it gave you butterflies. The fact that you could never tell what he was thinking is what had you on edge. Of course, he was oblivious to that at first, but he soon started to catch on. He’d begun to notice how you squirm in your seat whenever he looked at you, and he’d see how flushed your cheeks got whenever he called your name. He assumed you were just shy— and while that may have been part of the reason, that wasn’t all of it.

You would sit through his long lectures, trying your best to pay attention but finding yourself unsuccessful. You’d get distracted so easily; eyes glazing over his toned body and heart quickening at the thoughts that flooded your mind. He was all you ever thought about, and that shouldn’t have been the case. It was wrong of you to think of your professor in a way that was unprofessional, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have him touch you, or kiss you. To have him do all the things you do to yourself at night.

The only thing that made this situation wrong was the fact that he was your teacher, unfortunately. He was only a handful of years older than you, and you knew he was experienced- with looks like that there was no way he wasn't. Luckily for you he wasn't tied down to a relationship either, or at least you assumed he wasn't; he wore no ring and never mentioned anything about having a partner. Maybe he just preferred to keep his private life to himself- rightfully so- but that didn't matter to you. It was ridiculous how desperate he made you feel. How badly you wished for him to be the one to take your innocence; a slightly older and experienced man who you knew would treat you right.

Of course, it was sinful of you to attempt to get that kind of attention from him, but it couldn't hurt to try right? Sure, he'd probably deny you, but you wanted him to at least know how you felt. It was parlous, you knew this, yet here you were; sitting before him in the front row of the large and empty classroom, as he sits at his desk and catches you up on the book you've been reading.

He taught literature, which happened to be your easiest subject. But for the sake of getting some alone time with him, you'd pretend to be behind on the reading. This behavior would be seen as unacceptable coming from you. You've always done well in class; keeping up with assignments and never missing a due date. So why were you suddenly slacking? It was suspicious, to say the least, and just as you feared, he'd question you for it.

"Hopefully that was enough to catch you up. Be sure to do tonight's assignment."

Odasaku let out a sigh as you rose to your feet. You fix your skirt and get ready to leave- though, you're stalling and taking your sweet time doing so. Slowly, you walk passed his desk towards the door, but his words stop you.

"One question, if you don't mind. What was the reason you got behind? You're normally so studious."

You contemplated coming up with a lie, but you assumed his question was rhetorical, so you just came out with it.

You laugh a little, cheeks turning a bit pink, "I um, I'm actually not behind on the reading..."

He chuckles softly, looking down at his desk before his eyes come back up to meet yours. "I figured. And what was the reason you felt the need to waste your own time by listening to me talk for an extra thirty minutes?"

He spoke monotonically yet he sounded stern. The urge to give him the truth was very strong, but was it really smart to tell him what you really came for? Were you even bold enough to do such a thing?

"I simply stayed to talk to you. I just felt I needed a reason."

Perhaps you were.

He tilted his head in question, "Did you now? Hm." He thought a moment, then spoke again. "You don't need a reason y/n. I'll always be here."

Odasaku gave you a small smile; a smile that you rarely ever seemed to see, but one that quickened the beating of your heart.

"I appreciate that, thank you." you say quietly.

You knew his offer was on the table for every one of his students, but you selfishly had the thought that it was exclusive for you. You stood there fiddling with your fingers, trying to find any excuse to stay a few minutes longer. Oda gave you a look- a concerned one- and asked if everything was alright. You simply nod your head and begin to walk out but he tells you to wait. As if your legs had a mind of their own, you turn around to face him; he was still sat at his desk and he gestured for you to come over.

"You look unsatisfied. Are you sure you're okay?" his tone was flat but you knew it was genuine.

He looked at you with kind eyes, despite his stoic expression. It was a look that implied you could tell him anything, and you wanted to. You wanted to tell him why you were here, but you also didn't want to make a fool of yourself. The dilemma bounced around in your head and it sparked your anxiety. To avoid his worry, you move to stand in front of his desk. His eyes run over your body- it was most likely an innocent stare, though, you hoped it wasn't.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you say quietly, trailing your fingers across the edge of his desk delicately. "But... I guess you could say I'm unsatisfied."

You really were bold, huh?

He sighs, "Is there something you're not understanding that you're not telling me?"

Oda was oblivious, though you guessed it wasn't entirely obvious what you could've meant. There seemed to be small rush of confidence running through you now, and you weren't sure why. That probably wouldn't bode well for you, however, you could tell you piqued his interest. Nervously, you toy with the hem of your skirt, immediately feeling that confidence fade.

"There's just been something on my mind and... It's related to you."

He raises his eyebrows- still unsure of what you were implying- and his cheeks wear a very light blush. He clears his throat and straightens his back, "Does it have something to do with my teaching? I try to make the material digestible."

"No, you're teaching is fine Sir." you laugh. "Um, but I do wish you would teach me something..." Your words were so vague, and you knew he probably wouldn't catch on unless you spelled it out for him.

With your heart beating out of your chest now, face hot and red, and butterflies flooding your stomach, you lean down to be directly at his eye level. Your palms rest atop his desk and your eyes are glued to his. The words you wanted to say struggled to come out- of course they did; you weren't really gonna confess your love to your professor, were you? It was too late to back out now and you were already here, might as well get it over with.

"I just, um... I'm quite fond of you professor. I know I'm wasting my time telling you this, but I can't keep it from you anymore. And... I've always had this favor I wanted to ask of you, however, it'd be wrong of me to ask."

Your face was as bright as a tomato and you felt like you'd drop dead from the anxiety any minute now. You shake your head and whisper an apology before quickly making your way back towards the door. The regret had set in much sooner than you thought it would. Odasaku rose to his feet and called your name, the sound of him doing so making your heart drop to your stomach. As to not be rude, you turn back around but you hang your head low- like a puppy who had gotten in trouble. He walked over to you and placed a finger under your chin, lifting your head so you'd look at him.

"I can't say I'm too surprised... I see the way you look at me y/n."

His eyes scanned over your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your gaze.

"I'm flattered, to say the least" he says, "However..." He steps a little closer and his voice drops to a whisper, "You know it'd be unprofessional of me to speak on the matter."

His hand falls back down to his side, and you nod knowingly. Of course he wasn't gonna say anything about what you had said, you knew better than to expect him to. Yet, you still hoped he would. You let out a tired sigh followed by another apology, diverting your attention. Odasaku's eyes never leave you- it was like he was observing you; trying to read your expression.

"You said there was a favor you wanted to ask? Do you mind telling me what that favor is?"

Something was telling you he already knew- or at least had an idea of- what the favor was. The red of your cheeks couldn't have been more prominent and you were sure he could hear the beating of your heart.

"It's um... not very professional, Sir." Your voice trails off out of embarrassment.

His eyes widen but it's a subtle reaction. He crosses his arms, a sly smirk coming across his face.

"Is it? That's not very like you y/n. I'm a little disappointed; I wouldn't have thought you would think of me in such a way."

You turn your head from him and speak with an inaudible tone, "I'm sorry Sir."

You felt ashamed, and humiliated. All of this for him to scold you, and for you to leave feeling like your heart had been stomped on. What did you expect? Odasaku leans forward a tad, dropping his voice to a whisper- you could nearly feel his breath on your neck as you keep your head turned.

"I remember asking you what the favor was. I'd still like to know." he says.

The flush of your cheeks deepen. Your breathes hitch and you gulp, trying to find the courage to tell him what you want.

"I-I um... I'd like a kiss..." you whisper, embarrassed.

He chuckles, "That's all? Hm."

No that wasn't all, but how could you bring yourself to tell him what you really wanted? Slowly you turn your head to look at him- his face is closer than you thought it'd be and he wears a devious smirk. Your eyes dart between his eyes and his lips, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact or say anything.

"I could lose my job y'know, if someone found out about this. But..." he pauses, "I'd hate to see you leave here upset."

Your heart quickens and you swear you felt faint. He wasn't offering to give you what you asked for, was he? You fidget with your fingers, nervously mumbling "um's" as you try to form a sentence. Shockingly, his hand found your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb.

"Is this alright?" he asks politely.

You nod, still speechless.

Oda gives you a kind smile and closes the gap between you. As soon as it started it had ended; a peck to your lips so quick that you couldn't even process it, or savor it. He knew what he was doing- what a tease. You pout a little, feeling disappointed that that was all he gave you. His eyes linger on your lips before he speaks.

"Did that satisfy you, y/n?"

He knew it didn't but of course he'd ask anyway. You shake your head, chewing your lower lip in attempts to calm your nerves. A smile comes across his face at your response.

"I really shouldn't give you another..."

He pecks your lips again.

"Y/n... Tell me to stop." he whispers close to your mouth.

You know you should, but you couldn't bring yourself to. You didn't want him to stop, and the fact that he was telling you to do so indicated that he didn't want to stop either. At this point, he didn't even need to say that he shared your feelings; it was obvious to you now he did feel something for you.

"I- I don't want you to stop." Your voice is so quiet you thought he may not hear you.

Odasaku instinctively took hold of your waist, leaning in again and kissing you once more. Time seemed to stop and your head felt fuzzy. You did have questions about how he truly felt, but right now they didn't even seem worth asking, you just wanted this to continue.

The kiss had become heated faster than you expected. Before you could pull away to say something, he had your hips pressed against the edge of his desk while he kissed you more eagerly. Your hands run across his chest, messing with the buttons of his shirt. You feel him smile against your mouth before he slips his tongue in, a soft whimper escaping you in response.

Words couldn't describe how you felt right now. The best you could do was "elated, aroused," and "nervous." There were so many things jumping around in your head, yet it all seemed clouded by the feeling of his tongue in your mouth and his hands roaming your body.

Odasaku brought his hands under your arms, lifting you up and setting you on his desk. His lips kissed at your jaw, lower and lower, until arriving at the base of your neck. He started to suck at your skin, dragging his hands down your body and up your thighs. His hands were quite big, yet his touch was so gentle- it gave you goosebumps. Your breath hitched at every little touch, you finding yourself to be extremely sensitive.

It was almost embarrassing how wet you already were. You'd squirm beneath his touch, sighing when his hands inched up your legs. Oda had left a few marks on your neck, marks that you'd definitely have to cover with make up if you didn't want anyone to question you about them. His fingers lightly brushed against your clothed sex, causing you to close your legs a bit. He smirked, parting your thighs and pushing your skirt up.

"This is what you want, yes? You can tell me stop at any time, y/n." he says kindly.

You bite your lip with a nod, "I do want this... I'm just... nervous."

Your cheeks had become darker than they already were and you felt more anxious than you did previously. He gives your lips a tender peck, speaking close to them when he pulls away.

"Nervous because of me, or nervous because of something else?"

"Something else..." you exclaim quietly.

"Hm." He backs away almost knowingly. "We can stop if you're not ready."

With widen eyes, you straight your back. It wasn't ending already, was it? Damn him for being so considerate.

"N-no, I'm okay. I promise." your eyes fall to the floor, and your voice gets quiet again when you realize how accidentally loud you had gotten. "Please keep going."

He licks his lips with a grin, trailing his hands back up your thighs and leaning in to kiss you. You tilt your chin up, deepening the kiss, as a form of reassurance that you were alright with continuing. His tongue slips into your mouth again, a little more eager this time. You shiver when his fingers graze the waistband of your panties. Feeling eager yourself, you prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your hips. He removes your panties, letting them fall to the floor.

Oda's fingers press onto your exposed clit, feeling how swollen it had become. He smirks at how your body twitches, and starts to rub circles into your hardened nub. You whimper, closing your eyes as your head falls back. His slender digits slide through the slick of your folds, the pads of his fingers teasing your cunt which was already dripping for him. He admires you a moment, drinking in how pleased you already are.

Without warning, Oda slipped in a finger, a high-pitched moan coming from your mouth when he does so. Your head rises to look at him, your stare meeting his admirable one. His eyes seemed to glimmer with desire, fixating on your flushed face. He uses his thumb to play with your clit as he inserts another finger. They slide in so easily, the feeling of them inside you only making you wetter.

"You're much naughtier than I would've expected, y/n." he shakes his head. "Letting me do such a vulgar thing to you..."

His teasing tone turned you on, in spite of the slight humiliation you felt from being called out. You sit up straight- bringing your arms over his shoulders and catching him in a kiss- as his fingers continue moving in and out of you at a steady pace. He groans into your mouth, quickening his pace slightly.

It was difficult trying to keep still, his fingers felt so good. The amount of times you've zoned out in class because you were thinking about this specific scenario was ridiculous, and the fact that it was actually happening had you over the moon.

He'd curl his fingers in your warmth, moaning into the sloppy kiss you were caught up in. His lips fell from yours and moved to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin when he spoke.

"Do you think you can take more than this? I just don't want to overwhelm you."

You let out a pleasured sigh; his fingers were still twisting in and out of your cunt. Trying to respond to his question wasn't the easiest task.

"P-please Sir, I-I want you so bad..."

Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, tiny kisses being peppered onto his skin. Oda hums with acknowledgement, taking out his fingers and leaving you feeling empty. He wipes them clean on your thigh and separates from you, backing up to undo his slacks. You stare as his pants pool at his feet, your eyes fixating on the bulge beneath his boxers.

There was a slight anxiety running through you, though you hoped it was just an excitement that your brain had mistaken for nervousness. Oda pulls his briefs to the floor, gently grabbing you by the bend of your knees afterwards, and bringing you closer to the edge of the desk. He kisses you reassuringly, almost to help you relax from noticing how you appeared uneasy- for lack of better words.

"Are you ready?" he asks, now kissing along your jaw and lining himself up at your entrance.

You nod, bringing your hands under his arms and up his back, holding onto his shoulders as if to brace yourself. His length slide in easily, which surprised you because you didn't think it would. Despite that, it still hurt a little; you've never had anything more than your fingers, but the stretch felt so indescribably amazing you couldn't do anything but mewl.

He hisses at feeling you clench around him once he's filled you. "Mm you're so tight, fuck-"

Oda held onto your waist, dragging your body a bit closer to his and beginning to buck his hips. Your eyes rolls to the back of your head and you pull on his shirt, a breathy moan slipping your tongue. He moans against your skin, leaving messy kisses on your neck while he picks up his pace. Your legs had wrapped themselves around his body, attempting to close but obviously not succeeding. His deep moans rumbled through your ears, the sound further turning you on and making you wet.

He moved your skirt up a little higher- just so it wasn't in his way- and thrusts a bit harder. His hand was flat on your stomach, the other on your waist, while he ruts into you. Oda decides to lie you on the desk- figuring it'd be more comfortable for you- trailing his hands up your body and holding you right beneath your breasts. Your eyes were shut tight and your hands ran down his back to his chest.

"Good girl~ Y-you're doing such a good job- shit-"

Continuously, he'd praise you; reminding you how well you were taking him, and how good it felt to be inside you. His words of affirmation drove you crazy. You still couldn't believe what was happening. You were lying atop your professors' desk, he who was god knows how many inches deep inside you, and actively stripping you of every last bit of innocence you might've had left.

The noises you let out were bouncing off the walls of his large classroom, filling his ears and making him grunt every time his body snapped with yours. He was making you feel so good, making you feel things you didn't even know you were capable of feeling. The pleasure was like nothing you've ever experienced; your hand was only capable of so much, after all.

Every thought, every fantasy, you've ever had about him was practically unfolding in front of you. You were experiencing it all for real- something you didn't think would ever be possible. Your eyes were glassy and the bright red blush of your cheeks never went away. Oda took your hands in his, pinning them above your head and giving them a firm squeeze.

"Fuck you feel good- Mphm, say my name for me, y/n."

"Aah Oda-" Your voice got caught in your throat, a squeak escaping you mid-sentence from feeling him hit that sweet spot of yours.

He moans your name after hearing his own come from you, thrusting quicker and causing your moans to get louder. You arch your back, cursing through your moans and bucking your hips up, growing more and more antsy the longer this went on. It felt so good you couldn't sit still. You began to whine, your stomach coiling and your walls tightening around his shaft.

"O-oh I'm- fuck- I'm so close, p-please. Please Oda~"

His eyes scan your face, pupils fully dilated from how pretty you looked beneath him. He was getting close too, he was nearly seconds away. A mumbled "c'mon baby" was said before a swear replaced it, his movements becoming harder. Now overwhelmed with pleasure, you cum around his length, not being able to keep yourself from doing so. He bucks his hips a little more, letting you ride out your orgasm, before pulling out and spilling onto your stomach.

Both your breathes were labored, bodies feeling hot and sticky from the sweat that had formed on your skin. You felt so weak all of a sudden, yet you couldn't prevent the smile that spread across your face. Odasaku gives you a kiss, whispering in your ear something about how well you did- you didn't really hear him, honestly. He redresses, then walks to the other side of his desk, grabbing some tissues from a drawer to hand to you.

Oda helps you clean up, and you tiredly slip back into your panties afterwards. You get off the desk, fixing your clothes and standing on slightly wobbly legs. He holds onto your arms, just to keep you steady, and kisses your cheek.

"Don't hesitate reaching out to me if you need any more help, okay?"

You blush, biting your lip. "Yes Sir. I'll be sure to let you know if I need anything."

He gives you one last kiss then lets go you. You grab your bag from the floor and throw it over your shoulder, giving him a small smile as you exit, feeling giddy that you ended up getting exactly what you came here for.

[bowandcurtsey]

Hello!!! So I was reading the headcannons of some of the BC characters reacting to a S/O who falls off the bed while sleeping, and I was wondering....how would Jack, Asta and Yami react to that...? You can 100% skip this since you have lots of requests but uh yeah! Also have a great day/night!

Hello Anony!! HEHEHEH Thank you for requesting more characters for this idea! It's sucha cute one I'm just happy to be writing it again!

HERE is the original post and request!

TW: no smut but it is kinda implied or mentioned. other than that it is a safe one!

Jack | Asta | Yami

Jack the Ripper

The first time, this man didn't even know you rolled off the bed, smh.. Until you let out a little yelp and he woke up.

"Dafug are you doing on the floor at 2am in the morning y/n?"

"I fell off!!" you sat there feeling angry at the situation and in pain.

He scooped you back up with his long and strong arms, "you're so funny sometimes little bug."

Subsequently he would start noticing when you were rolling further and further away from him and eventually he wrapped you up in the blanket and he slept on the ends so you wouldn't fall off.

This man sleeps with the AC on no matter the season so you're always in a thick blanket anyway.

But this man is a sucker for cuddling you, so some days he'd be under the blanket with you and he'll have you wrapped with his four limbs, making sure you can't escape.

"We're stuck together like love bugs" he would laugh when you protest that his legs are so heavy on you.

"oh? I thought you're a mantis? I'll eat you up after we're done mating."

"oh?" he'd mimic you just to annoy you, "then shall we start mating now?"

Asta

This boy has sharp senses, so he'll open his heavy lidded eyes just to check up on why you are getting further away from his arms.

When he sees you at the edge of the bed, almost falling off, he'd catch you with his quick reflexes.

After a few times of witnessing you almost falling off the bed, he'd question you about it.

"y/n! Have you always been rolling off the bed?!"

When you sheepishly nod your head, he'd finally put 2 and 2 together and exclaim, "so that's how you get all those bruises! I always thought you got injured during training!"

He'd push his bed back against the wall as it previously was. (ever since you both started dating and you slept in his room, he moved his bed's position so you both had access to the end of the bed.)

"Now you won't fall off the bed sunshine!" he beamed at you, "I'll be here to catch you if you ever roll off!"

This sweet and thoughtful boy would totally put a mattress at the bottom of the bed if he had to go on missions so if you really fall off you wouldn't get hurt.

Yami Sukehiro

God help this man but he's an even deeper sleeper than Jack. Of course he wouldn't know when you fell off the first time.

But you didn't yelp or cry, you continued to sleep on the floor.

When he reached over and he couldn't find you, he thought you went to get a midnight snack or the toilet. Until he felt your ki really close to him.

He woke up eventually and finally found you on the floor, still sound asleep.

Geez how are you an even deeper sleeper than me. he smiled at your peaceful sleeping form for awhile before carrying you back up on the bed into his strong arms.

He cuddled you tighter from that day onwards, worried that you might hurt yourself when you fall off.

Until you start complaining that it's hella hot.

He'd totally tease you though, "if someone doesn't have the habit to roll off the bed then I wouldn't have to do this. Or should I just sleep on top of you instead?"

Proceeds to lay on top of you, nearly crushing you.

"Now I can't.. breathe.. Yami!" Your limps would be flailing and hitting him at the same time, trying to get him off you.

He sighs mockingly, "what am I ever going to do with you."

He now holds your hands when you sleep together and you've never fallen off once.

-end-

I hope you enjoy this one Anony (˵◕ ɛ ◕˵✿)

[mrskodzuken]

pairing: Kozume Kenma x f!reader

genre: SOFT. AND. PURE. FLUFF.

wc: 975

warnings: alcohol, some product placement ads (lol; not sponsored by Tanduay and Sprite), slightly suggestive cheverlu (c/o the English translation to APO Hiking Society's "Yakap sa Dilim"), Kenma being so sweet to his s/o, a bit ooc-ish?

note: this fic was inspired by my last week's *coughs* spicy *coughs* interaction with my second visiting (fifth overall smh) Kenma anon here on my blog. Then the song "Yakap sa Dilim", originally sung by APO Hiking Society, came into my mind because it's so damn seggsy tbh *fidget fidget* At first, I thought of doing a bit smutty fic to complement the song but... siiigh, I'm still nowhere as good as by the likes of my other moots who write smut almost on a daily, weekly basis. Plus I have a good, if not great, imagination when it comes to writing fluff, so... ^^;;

another note: that part about Y/N mixing her alcoholic drink with clear soda and experiencing full-blown redness and itchiness from head to toe while drinking was based on my experience drinking alcohol straight away. And no, I'm not always drinking on a regular basis, just whenever there are family get-togethers and like New Year's Eve parties.

another ANOTHER note: this is my first entry for @lumpiang-toge 's Piliin Mo Ang Pilipinas server collab event. Huuuuuuge thank you for beta-ing this @/lumpiang-toge @love-amihan @imo-chan-imagines @kousukii @manjirosday @abuliawrites I LOVE YOU ALL MWAH <3 *headpats*

see also: listen to the original version of "Yakap sa Dilim" by APO Hiking Society here-

[00:45 am]

——— 💙💖

"...and that's all for tonight's streaming! Make sure to follow me on all my social networking sites, they're on the description below! Well then, this has been your favorite gamer cat boy Kodzuken, logging out!"

Kenma then removes his headset and closes his stream, stretching and yawning a bit in his gaming chair, before standing up and heading towards his and your shared (bed)room.

"Y/N~ Y/N, are you still awake? Y/N-" he opens the door to your room, only to find it silently empty.

Hmm... where did she go? Kenma then searches the kitchen. "Y/N?" And the bathroom. "Where are you?"

He taps on his phone and checks his contact list for a possibility of you being online at the moment. And sighs. Nothing.

"Y/N! Y/N-chan, where are you?"

"Kitten, I'm on the back porch!"

Kenma finds you sitting on the porch, chin up, your eyes watching the numerous stars twinkling, shining, across the wide clear night sky, and smiling.

"I just finished my stream earlier and was checking up if you're awake or not but-" He sits in beside you and snuggles a bit but then notices a slight flush in your cheeks, and spies your hands cradling a glass of familiar reddish liquid. Beside you stands a half-empty bottle of Tanduay Ice, its opened bottle cap sitting askew on the lips.

"How long have you been drinking, Y/N? And straight-up drinking a bottle of Tanduay Ice Red Mirage?"

You turn your slightly flushed face at Kenma, a goofy smile escaping your lips, and raise your glass. "Not about half an hour ago, and don't worry about me getting all red and itchy all over my body from too much drinking! I mix it up with some Sprite to lessen the alcohol intake!" You fish out a 2L bottle of Sprite, also half-empty, on the ground, to prove your point.

Kenma sighs exasperatedly and smiles back at you. Lovely and stubborn you, who isn't the type to back down from an argument and stuff.

Shit.

You gently place your drink on the wooden floor and suddenly stand up and walk. "Ah, you want something to drink? I can get you some can of beer if you-!"

You feel the grip on your wrist as he grab your hand before you go inside, and look at him.

"Kenma-"

"Please stay."

Kenma then brings your hand near his face and tenderly kisses your palm, looking you in the eye, the action making you more flushed but not because of alcohol. He smiles at you again.

"I love you, Y/N."

Steam runs off your ears, your face a full-blown tomato face. "I-I-I love you, too, Kenma!"

The former Nekoma high school volleyball setter and now-YouTuber can't help but softly chuckle. Kenma can't really resist teasing and making you blush.

Because he finds it very cute. And endearing.

He hangs his head down a bit. "Sorry... I forgot about our date earlier.”

"Eh? W-why are you saying sorry...? I should have known you'd have a busy day yesterday! Two 4-hour streams, company Zoom meetings, a date with Kuroo-san in the office-"

"-it's a meeting with the Japan Volleyball Association for an upcoming proposal, stop calling it a 'date'!"

Your boyfriend then pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your waist, his head being buried on your chest. You could hear his muffled sigh and voice from within while he speaks.

"I'm such a terrible boyfriend to you, kitten. How can I make it up to you?" While looking at you, pout on his lips, his golden cat orbs a puppy-like glance at your face.

A look that sends your heart aching with cuteness.

"Hmm..." You pull away from Kenma's embrace and grab your phone to scroll and tap on something. A smile creeps across your face as you place your phone back from where you got it earlier.

The first few notes of your favorite song start to play in the background. You offer your hand at a slightly confused Kenma.

"Would the great Kodzuken care to dance with me?"

Hoping that you lay your head on the pillow

Your body, I'll cover like a blanket.

Problems you will forget

As long as we embrace in the dark

He accepts it, grinning, and finds himself swaying his body alongside you, your hands around his neck, his hands perching on your waist.

Don't stop if you feel like you have to cry unexpectedly

Hoping what you feel is relaxation

If you want, we can take a cigarette first

Before we embrace in the dark

"I'm so lucky I have met you, Y/N. I really am~" He places a kiss on your forehead before nuzzling your cheek, his nose wrinkling a bit. "You still smell of Tanduay Ice, kitten. Hope you won't experience an incoming hangover later."

"Kenma!!! I won't, silly! And I'm also lucky that I'm here, cuddling with you, dancing... it makes me happy!" You kiss his cheek and hug him closer.

This is something that we have been waiting for

We're right at this moment embracing in the dark

Oh, the satisfaction from the quick, stolen moments

While we embrace in the dark

"I love you, Y/N..."

"I love you more, Kenma..."

Come on and lie down by me in bed

Let's savor the good times together

To our love that we hope for

While we embrace in the dark

As the song ends, you find yourself yawning, sleepy. He notices this.

Kenma kisses your forehead again, snuggling you at his side. He yawns also. "Maybe we should go to bed now, kitten. It's getting late."

"And we can cuddle while we sleep?"

"Mhmm~ yes, we can! C'mon... but first, let's brush your teeth and get rid of that alcohol smell..."

"Kenma!!!!"

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