ncity-carrotcity-tancity

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

ONE NIGHT STAND — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. geto suguru !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : you’ve always had a love/hate relationship with one night stands and learned an easy way to avoid the awkwardness it can bring. but what happens when someone sees through you and decides to call you out on it?

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI ! fem reader. protected sex, slight degradation, fingering, manhandling, use of pet names (sweetheart, pretty), edging, multiple orgasms, mentions of overstimulation, very minor impact play (smacks your ass once), & he’s a lil condescending at times whoops. — WC : 1.8k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : like i said .. i blinked and this just happened … enjoy !!

one night stands were always your thing. it beat taking care of things on your own and it never seemed to follow up with awkward pillow talk or murmurs of breakfast. it was simply a transaction that you were more than ready to profit from. all you had to do to guarantee a night full of pleasure was whisper those sultry words just right to your next victim.

“no man has ever made me cum before.”

simple, effective. men loved a challenge and this was the best way to ensure that the focus was on all on you and your pleasure. it never failed to make you have a good night.

until you met your match.

“never cum before, huh? that line usually work?” geto asked, a seemingly sweet smile on his face that was just asking you to fold.

every part of you froze. you’ve never been called out or questioned on it. most guys jumped at the opportunity, but all he did was tut and teasingly narrow his eyes at you.

“not bad, so let’s see how long you can keep up before you give out.”

“wait-“ you start, words failing you as you straighten up on the couch. suddenly, the short skirt you normally parade around in felt too short, and his eyes felt all too piercing.

without much hesitation, geto pins you down on the couch, encasing you in his hold so you couldn’t escape — not that you wanted to. his hand slowly slips down your hip, watching how you gasp a baited breath when he squeezes it slightly.

feigning submission was one thing, but this was different, new, exciting. you couldn’t help but let him have his way with you, all for the sake of curiosity. or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“you poor thing, no one’s ever made you cum?” his mocking words cut through you, leaving you exposed as his palm smoothes up your thigh and under your skirt. “at least, no one’s made you cum like i will.”

your breath hitches as he slides off your lace underwear, tucking it aside in his back pocket. you don’t have time to protest as his face lowers itself in between your legs.

placing a soft kiss against your cunt, he slowly drags a fingertip along your folds, gathering up some slick that’s already formed. he brings it to his lips, his dark eyes holding yours with an intimacy you can’t pull away from, and sucks on it with a satisfied groan.

with a heavy gulp, you shift under his gaze, suddenly feeling more seen than you were ever used to. his fingers return back to your entrance, he slips one in and begins thrusting it at a slow pace.

“what a pretty little pussy.” a second finger slides in, instantly moving in a little quicker.

“i bet you tell that to all the girls.” you try to bite at him, wanting some semblance of control back.

“yeah? well then i guess it’s your turn to hear it.” he just gives you a cocky smile that you want to rip right off his face. the teasing glint in his eye shines as his finger crooks deep within you, prodding at the soft spot that no one has ever reached before.

“geto-“ you breathlessly moan out his name, gripping onto the couch cushion. your eyes flutter shut, savoring the way just two of his fingers seemed to fill you up so well.

his fingers pump in and out of you, the sloppy sounds filling the room as you all but rode his hand. and he just sat there on the couch as if he wasn’t hurtling you towards the edge in just a few simple motions.

his thumb draws untraceable patterns along your clit as his fingers keep the steady pace. visions cloud your mind of what it would be like if he was the one panting under you, but the quick withdrawal of his ministrations almost sent your body into shock.

“h-hey!” you gasp out, propping yourself up on your elbows to face him better. “what the hell?”

“that’s no way to talk to me, but since you’re so pent up, it’ll be our little exception. just this once.”

grabbing your waist, geto swiftly turns you onto your stomach — propping you up so your hips are up in the air. you let him manhandle you with a squeak, anticipation shooting all throughout your body.

he softly caresses down your back, basking in the warmth of your skin before he reaches your bottom, giving it a firm slap.

“now, it’s time for you to be good for me, alright? otherwise i won’t let you cum.” you hear the familiar sound of a condom ripping and you try to turn your attention back to him. but he takes your head and pushes your cheek down against the soft cushions. “behave.”

“yes sir.” your cunt clenched around nothing as he spoke down at you. never had you been with a guy like him, one so domineering that you actually listened. normally, most guys were all bark and no bite — but you could sense the fangs he had hidden under that sweet smile he gave you earlier. and as much as you wanted to toe the line with him, you really wanted him to make you cum.

his tip prodded at your entrance and it took everything in you not to push your hips back and take what you so desperately wanted. instead, your nails dug into the cushions, waiting for him to make his move.

inch by inch, he pushes in. the stretch wasn’t anything you could prepare for, an unfiltered moan tumbling from your lips as he fills you up with his girthy cock.

“that’s it-“ he whispers to himself, watching as you swallow him up. he bottoms out and you both let out of soft gasp. his hand still weighs on the side of your head but his other one grips at your hips. “ready for me?”

“yes.” you all but whine out. he gives a condescending chuckle before you feel him pull back out. tears flood your eyes as he moves away, already craving for him to fill you back up.

thankfully, he doesn’t leave you hanging, thrusting right back into you so violently your body lurches forward but his hold on you keeps you firmly in place.

and he doesn’t stop there. no easing you into it, no soft and slow movements — just pure, unadulterated fucking. the exact way you had been fantasizing about for so long was here and you could feel your coherent thoughts leave your head with each pound of his hips.

“so fucking tight-“ he groans out. “almost has me believing your little lie.”

“geto-“ you whine out, wanting more than anything to flip over and dig your nails into him instead of the scratchy fabric below you.

“you can call me suguru.” he groans, his palm sliding up your back and grabbing your shoulder, using his own force of his thrusts to pull you back onto his cock.

“suguru!” you mewl out, “s-so good.”

“yeah? i thought so.” he continues relentlessly pounding into you, the harsh sound ricocheting off of the walls in your small apartment. your eyes roll to the back of your head, an endless stream of moans falling from your lips.

his hand moves from your head and slips in between your thighs, finally paying attention to your aching clit. with a few simple swipes against it, you’re thrown into your high — clenching down on him so harshly his pace stutters for a moment.

“oh, look at that.” he purrs. “looks like she can cum.” he goes back to his brutal pace and you can barely keep up, your brain still drowning in the pleasure he just poured all over you. it was all becoming too much and you try to crawl forward a bit to reprieve yourself. but he didn’t like that. “oh no no, we aren’t done yet. i haven’t cum yet.”

you whimper as he continues to use your overstimulated cunt, another high creeping up your body causing your mind to buzz with an aching need. all you knew right now was him — his cock, his groans, the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. suguru, suguru, suguru.

all of it was too much and you couldn’t help but clench around him again, your cunt doing all of your thinking for you as it chases another high.

“gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps out, his hips stuttering slightly. he must’ve been close too. “well, aren’t i lucky.”

“please! gonna cum-“ you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as pleasure coils within you, begging to be released.

“go ahead, pretty.” he pushes into you one final time, shoving his cock as deep as he can as he fills up the condom with a heavenly groan of your name. it sends you over the edge with him, crying out his name in return as your thighs tremble in his hold.

after a few moments, he collects himself while you’re still trying to catch your breath, slowly sliding out of you. you whine pathetically at the loss. geto gently turns you back around so you’re looking up at him now, his pretty dark hair hanging around his face like a fallen angel.

the sweet smile is back, the fangs no longer barred as he leans down to kiss you — a kiss you didn’t realize you were waiting for all night. he takes it slow, languidly moving his lips against yours to lull you back to him.

soft caresses and murmurs of praise fill your senses, causing you to reach out for him. he breaks the kiss too early for your liking but the look he gives you almost makes up for it.

his eyes have a softer touch to it, something that makes you feel so warm inside you’d be willing to do anything to keep it that way. a small smirk takes up geto’s face as he shifts his body around.

“fuck, you’re pretty sweet, you know that?” he let out a soft chuckle, moving to lay next to you so he could pull you in his arms. “satoru was right.”

“who?” you ask, blissed out of your mind as your cheek hits his chest, exhaustion settling in your bones.

“you don’t remember?” you feel a soft laugh rumble against you. “he’s the one you told two weeks ago about how no one ever made you finish.“

“oh i-“ your face heats up, thoroughly embarrassed by your little charade. but it had led you to this moment with geto and suddenly, it wasn’t so bad.

as much as you hated one night stands, you didn’t mind drifting off with geto on your couch, curled up in his side and ready to sleep off the pleasures of the night. and something stirred in your heart when he tightened his hold on you — silently assuring that he wasn’t going anywhere just yet.

taglist : @sookisaurus @collin-thegreat @the-tenth-shadow @strawberrystepmom @buggylicious @mrs-kurooo @oooohno

#geto suguru x reader #eye #bitch tf was that #aja #smut

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

「BNHA Boys reacting to you wiping off their kiss as a joke」

⤷ Bakugou

you were watching a movie that he honestly didn’t care much about. he changed positions all the time and it ended up upsetting you because you really wanted to see the movie, unlike him. he then whispers “sorry” and leaves a kiss on your temple as he puts his arm around your shoulders, you bite your lip to keep from smiling and run your hand across your temple, wiping his kiss away. he stops for a moment and looks at you in complete disbelief. were you mad because he moved too much? you wiped his kiss.. what the-? he couldn’t believe it, so he took the remote and paused the movie playing on the television. “what?” you ask innocently. he looks at you with the same indignant look and you can’t help but laugh at him. “oh, do you think it’s funny?” he says, crossing his arms. even with a playful smile plastered on your face, he still didn’t understand that it was just a joke. “why did you do that?” he asks seriously and you laugh more, knowing you need to talk real or else he’ll go crazy. “it’s just a joke, katsuki!” you tap your fingers lightly on his cheek and before your hand can fall into your lap again he grabs it and pulls you to him kissing all over your face as he says “i want to see if you can clear all these now”

⤷ Deku you took a pillow and put it on his lap, laying down. he smiles and starts stroking your hair with his free hand while the other one holds his phone. you stare at him for a few seconds and he puts his phone down, looking passionately at you. he leans in a little and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead that you’re quick to wipe away. he widens his eyes for a few seconds, swallowing hard because he thought he might have done something wrong that made you upset. it had to be that, right? there was no other reason for you to clean his kiss like that… he stiffens his posture and calls your name in a serious but also worried voice and you look at him with your eyes shining, wondering what was wrong. a part of him was relieved that you didn’t look angry, but another part of him looked even more worried that you didn’t look angry. so what was wrong? what happened? he decides to give you another kiss, this time on your lips. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies in your stomach, but you faked it really well by wiping your lips. you try to stay serious, but the way he looks at you makes you laugh until your cheeks hurt; he’s worried but in such a cute way that you can’t hide it anymore, so you just say it’s a joke and he sighs in relief, laughing with you before kissing you again.

⤷ Kirishima he would be so offended and scared at first that he would have no other reaction than to look at you with his eyes half wide as he stutters something. he tries to search for the right words, but all he can say - in a finely tuned voice - is “what did i do wrong?? is there something on my lips?” you try to look at him like he’s going crazy but you can’t as his expression makes you burst into laughter. and at that moment he lets out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding and shakes his head, laughing at you. “you’re bad… now you’ll have to put up with me” he says as he pins you to the couch and showers you with kisses and love.

⤷ Todoroki you were waiting for the train and he was in front of you while you shared your headphones; his two hands were around your waist affectionately. he leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling you a little closer to him. the moment would be cute if it weren’t for you wiping your forehead; he frowns and puts his fingers to his lips, looking at you he asks “is there something on my lips?” and his expression is so genuine but at the same time a little worried; you shake your head and bite your lip to keep from smiling. he touches your chin with his fingers and tilts your face so you look at him, “what’s wrong? tell me” he asks, eyes curiously scanning yours, as if searching for any trace of lying or anger. you smile playfully at him and your smile is all he needs to understand that it was just a silly joke. he smiles nervously back and you kiss the corner of his lips and his lips, which makes him laugh lightly.

⤷ Denki he would have a fit when you use the back of your hand to wipe his kiss on your lips. “heyyyyyy, don’t do this… don’t you want my kisses?” he asks in a thin but worried voice, making it hard not to laugh. he feels offended but doesn’t show it, but just the blush rising in his cheeks is enough for you to see what he’s feeling. silence taking over the room. “does my breath smell bad?” he says randomly, unable to contain his bubbly laughter. “was it my lunch? oh shit.. i need to go brush my teeth.” he got up, starting hurriedly to the bathroom. you grabbed his shirt quickly. “no wait, i’m just kidding! it was all a joke.” you eased, denki letting out a breathless groan before falling on top of you. “kaminari… get out…” you struggled, squirming under his frame of denial. “that was soo mean… i didn’t think you could do this to me. you’re paying for dinner.” he means it seriously, but you can hear a joke in his voice.

⤷ Tamaki he would feel very confused and insecure for some time. he wouldn’t immediately ask what was wrong because he didn’t know what to say; he kissed your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, it made him very worried and sad, but your behavior towards him didn’t change, which meant you weren’t angry or sad at him. he spends the rest of the day quiet, looking at you sideways and looking away when you look at him. he swallows and scratches the back of his neck as he remembers the scene; he feels so anxious and nervous he can barely talk to you. he doesn’t want to bother you and it ends up hurting you because he looks like a lost puppy with his eyes shining all day. you hug him from behind and he freezes not knowing what to do, you smile and kiss his back, which makes him melt a little. you move a little and take his cheeks in both hands, “hey bubba, it was just a joke! i’m sorry, i thought it would be fun but..” you don’t finish the sentence, just smile weakly. he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, clearly demonstrating the relief he felt at hearing those words.

⤷ Shinsou

you were watching a new series together and suddenly he feels a tender urge to leave a kiss on your cheek just to distract you a little. you instantly wipe your cheek with your hand and he doesn’t show any kind of reaction. in fact, he helped you wipe your cheek. “the popcorn i made was very buttery, make sure you take it all out so it doesn’t leave any oil on your skin.” you couldn’t even answer, there was no way to answer. you look at him a little confused and he just smiles slightly before turning his attention to the television again. he’s so cute and thoughtful that you couldn’t keep a passionate smile from appearing on your face. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “ugh i’m sorry” you mutter laughing against his shirt and he frowns, patting you on the back. “sorry for what?” he says when you sit in your seat again. “uhm…nothing. forget it” you say and grab a popcorn from him; really buttery

⤷ Hawks he was training and after a while he paused, sweat staining his forehead as you handed him a bottle of water to cool off. a small kiss from him of thanks was the reply, to which you easily wiped it away. “hey what-?” he winked at you with his brow furrowed and his lips still attached to the rim of the water bottle. “what was that?” he gave you a nonsensical look, genuinely confused as to why you didn’t accept his kiss. “what?” you tilted your head innocently, acting as if nothing had happened. “you… wiped my kiss.” he pouted, standing up. you shrugged your shoulders, your face utterly confused almost making your facade crack. you could see the wheels turning in his mind; he shook his head fervently, went back to training as if nothing had happened - but his mind didn’t stop for a single second. and a few minutes later he sat down on the floor. “baby?” you asked, arching your brow at his behavior. “i lost motivation. my love was rejected.” he sighed dramatically, now lying fully on his back. “what do you mean?” you crouched down, leaning in to land a deep kiss on his lips. “woah woah woah woahhh..” he gaped, his eyes bursting with amazement. “it was just a joke, love” you said, and he smiles a little “so i’m going to need a refund to get my motivation back”

⤷ Dabi he liked being the one to receive rather than give, just to see how needy you would have become if you hadn’t received attention from him. he liked to tease you and play with you, and today you thought might be the perfect time to get back at him. “dabi… can i get a kiss?” he looked from his phone to where you were. “now you’re asking so nicely, how could i say no?” maneuvering his head to softly kiss your lips, looking at you as you used the back of your hand to wipe the kiss. “hey.. what is this?” he used his foot to swivel the chair back to where you were sitting next to him “acting like a brat? is this your way of getting back at me?” his dazzling eyes read you like a book. every time. “i had an itch.” your apology proving to be more regrettable than you anticipated in your head. “oh yeah? so please let me help you.”bewildered, you shrank back against the chair with a squeak – dabi advancing on you at an alarming rate. he gives you a breathtaking kiss, the kind of kiss that makes you lose your ground. he pulls away and you’re breathing heavily. “is not fair.” you snorted, but he looked very pleased with himself.

⤷ Shigaraki

you knew it would be wrong to do this to him because he didn’t usually show so much affection through gestures and even without him admitting it, you knew he was insecure. but it was just a joke, it wouldn’t hurt, right? wrong. the moment you wiped your cheek after he gave you a light kiss, he got so angry. he didn’t say anything and that was the problem; he ignored you all day like a sulky child. on the outside he was cold and angry, but on the inside he was so broken and sad. he thought of many things; was it the scars on his lips that bothered you? were you stopping loving him? did you not like his love? he was so confused and ended up showing it in rude ways that made you back off when you went to talk to him. until you finally worked up the courage to tell him it was just a joke; you even showed videos you saw on tiktok of people doing this. he looks at your phone and looks at you, rolls his eyes and goes back to what he was doing before. you leave a kiss on his forehead as an apology and when you leave he smiles in relief.

#hawks x reader #hawks #cute #fic rec

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

Fuck up the Friendship

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Scenario: getting together with an old friend and the night ending in a situation crossing the lines of friendship

Pairing: Chanyeol x female reader

Requested: no

Genre: fluff? humor? (suggestive)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 1600+

A/N: read the title. It’s giving away the idc-attitude of the characters at the very end of the story. I’m really bad with titles. Enjoy no surprises. (Also this is one of the stories I put off because I had trouble assigning an idol to it. Hope he fits.)

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He casually moved around the glass in between his fingers, making a slight scratching noise on the table’s surface. “She was the type to say all those over the top, cringy things that you normally only hear in ballads or those internal dialogues in rom-com movies but that no sane person would ever say out loud.”

Chanyeol and you we’re hanging out at a bar. Those last months you had barely talked and therefore decided to go out tonight, get some drinks, have some fun and relax, just like the good old times.

You listened carefully and after letting his reasons sink in, you sighed deeply. “In other words, she was really romantic and you got scared that you couldn’t fulfill all her dreams and desires and so you bailed?” You took a guess, sounding quite amused.

Afficher davantage

#exo #chanyeol #chanyeol x reader #HUUUUGIUGHIUHUHHU #fic rec

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

[ 2:27 PM ] — jay leans in, pressing his lips against yours as you were fixing his collar and you, being smitten, can’t help but not pull away to continue fixing it, but chose to melt against the kiss and kiss him back. you smile against the kiss, giggles muffled against jay’s lips as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him.

“what’s so funny about me kissing you?” his voice low when he asked, lightly pulling away as he rests his forehead against yours, lips just a breath away.

you shake your head, looking into his eyes through your lashes with a smile on your lips. “you just make me giddy, is all.” you mumble and jay smiles, presses his lips against yours once again. your hands sliding up from his collar to his jaw. “jongseong,” you say against his lips and he hums, kissing you harder because apparently, he’s not doing it hard when you can still talk. you hum, hand going on his chest to softly push him. “you’re gonna be late.”

jay frowns and you smile, hand coming up to his chin as you wipe off your lipstick. “what if i call them and tell them something came up so i can stay with you?” he asks and you chuckle.

“then heeseung would say ‘what, your neediness for y/n?’,” you tease and jay groans, remembering that day when he called in sick because he wanted to stay, but heeseung, of course, knew what was up. “it will just for a few hours, honey. then you’ll be back home, here with me.”

“home is you, y/n.” jay corrects and you smile.

“and you’re mine.” you say as you go back, fixing his collar. after a few minutes, the van honks three times to let you two know they’re out waiting for jay. “take care, love.”

“i’ll see you later.” jay says and you nod.

“i’ll be here.” you say and jay leans in, but you lean back with a smile. you shake your head, gesturing you’re lipstick will transfer on his lips again. normally, you don’t care, but you didn’t want to spoil jay’s look anymore. “go now.”

“but y/n,” jay softly whines and you shake your head. then van honks again, prolonging it this time. you laugh, gesturing to the door. “fine. bye.”

“bye.” you softly say and jay turns around, going to the door, but he turns back. “yeah?”

“my wallet,” he says, walking back. “i forgot my—“ jay cuts himself off as he cups your chin and presses his lips against yours.

jay pulls away with a goofy grin. “park jongseong!” you exclaim, laughing as jay runs out of the shared house, yelling that he loves you. he runs to the van, opening the door as he climbs in and closes it.

heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, jake looks at him with teasing eyes and sunghoon grabs a tissue, pressing it against jay’s lip.

“what the fuck?”

“y/n’s lipstick mark is on your lips, simp.”

“oh.”

— a/n: hi, im back after ghosting for idk ever since hee day lol,, anyway have this jjong drabble lol <3 i'll answer asks inn a bit,, ily for being so patient with me! rbs, comments/feedbacks, and likes are highly appreciated! <3

#enhypen x reader #jay x reader #JAY!!!! #i would die honestly

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

summary. lucky girl! it looks like you have seven handsome boys chasing after your heart. the question is: who will you give it to? — OR . . .

𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔 !

ROUTE 1 | ROUTE 2

— pairings. enhypen hyung line ✗ fem!reader

— warnings. mentions of food ( heeseung & sunghoon ), violence and injuries ( jay ), pet names — “good girl”/“angel”/“doll”/“princess”

— notes. my first post wheeee!! anywho, this was getting a bit too long, so i split this into two parts. the maknae line one should be out in a few days, but hope you enjoy the hyung line’s in the meantime!

𓆩♡𓆪 — 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

the kind and gentle senior

he was the golden boy of the school: student council president, captain of the basketball team, ever teacher’s favourite, and not to mention hot as heck. he did it all — and he did it damn good, too.

it was no surprise he was one of the most sought after boys in the school. but alas, even girls in his grade — the beautiful seniors that you often looked at in envy — struggled to catch his attention. being in the year below him, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

or so you thought.

you joined the student council as one of the second year representatives after being convinced ( pestered ) by your teachers to consider it. they had claimed you were a “perfect fit” for the role. and because you didn’t have the heart to disappoint them, you agreed.

naturally, that brought you into close contact with lee heeseung, who you otherwise would never have gotten the chance to speak to.

you were immediately drawn to his warm aura. something about him was just comforting — safe.

one of the first things you noticed was that he always looked out for his juniors. never once have you had a day where he didn’t ask them if they’ve eaten, or if they needed any help with anything. regardless of how busy he was, he always made time to give them a guiding hand.

at first, you thought you were no different. it wasn’t until one of your friends pointed out that you were anything but. in fact, you apparently seemed to get preferential treatment?

“no way!” you denied immediately. “he treats me the same way as he does all his juniors.”

“oh really?” your friend asked sceptically. “hm, if you say so…”

the conversation ended there. but you couldn’t help but think about it again whenever you interacted him afterwards.

suddenly, you took notice of all the things you didn’t before.

the way he would treat you to lunch in a heartbeat if you told him you skipped lunch. yet, when his other juniors said the same, he would tell them to get fruit from the fridge in the student council meeting room.

the way he would softly pat your head whenever you did well on something ( that went for everything, from exams, to reports for the student council, to even drinking an extra glass of water than usual ) even though the most he would spare the others was a simple, “good job”.

then there was they way he would pout and subtly shoo your other seniors away whenever they tried to help you — a job he considered to be solely his, for some strange reason.

you honestly had no idea what you did to deserve the special treatment. but you weren’t complaining.

little did you know, that if you took the chance to ask him about it, he would tell you right away.

❝ you’re too precious for me to treat you the same way i do everyone else. so let me spoil you a little more, okay? hm? you’re not saying no, so is that a yes? it is? good girl. ❞

𓆩♡𓆪 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

the bad boy

there wasn’t anyone who didn’t hear about his temper, and the fact that he would have no trouble using his fists to settle his problems.

that didn’t seem to dwindle his popularity among your female classmates, though. while a lot of them were intimidated, they couldn’t help but be attracted to him, too — he was, after all, the son of a wealthy ceo, and his devilishly good looks were an added bonus.

if anyone were to ask you, you’d say that they read too many romance novels. but you had to admit — park jeongseong ( or rather, “jay” as he was usually called ) wasn’t the person the rumours of him made him out to be.

you first met him on the way back from school, when you were passing the convenience store. there was a stray cat there that you usually fed after school which you brought some milk and tuna for.

but to your surprise, you saw someone else was there before you —  jay. you blinked at the sight of him cooing at the cat, stroking it as it purred.

and it was at that moment when he noticed you.

the incident wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it would be. because as embarrassed as he was, you promised not to tell anyone. and in exchange you asked him to let you bandage one of his scratches he got on his hand from when he first tried approaching the cat.

“you want to bandage my hand in exchange for keeping a secret?” he asked in confusion. “you’re an odd one, aren’t you?”

you laughed. “i get that a lot.”

from there, a unique friendship was formed between the two of you.

it became a thing for you two to meet up after school and feed the cat together, until eventually he decided for take it home with him. he named it “luna” and the two of you became its official parents.

you also noticed that ever since he took the kitten in with him, he also became a lot calmer in general. it turned out, having something smaller than him to look after made him more gentle in nature.

jay managed to go a whole two weeks without getting into an fight — and while teachers were surprised, they were most certainly happy to see the change.

but one day, he was roughed up so badly that he got a black eye.

you yelled at him in tears for acting so reckless and getting hurt and essentially told him to get his act together. when he showed no sign of explaining himself, you left him there to think about his actions.

for a few days you completely avoided him… until you learnt the reason for him starting the fight into the first place. apparently, the people he fought with had said something inappropriate about you, and as a result he had lost his cool.

when you confronted him about it, you were taken aback by his words.

❝ i promise i will never make you cry again like i did before. so please forgive me just this once? really? you will? don’t worry, angel, i’ll make it worth your while. ❞

𓆩♡𓆪 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

the playboy flirt

a heart-breaker, a real lady killer — that was what you’d heard about him. and it was easy to why, considering that quote-on-quote “panty-dropping smile” of his. ( your friend’s words, not yours. )

there was also the fact that he was from aboard— which explained why his name was jake” on the roll—and that him talking in english was apparently the hottest thing that existed.

that being said, he had other redeeming qualities ( other than being hella fine, that was ).  

it was a well-known fact that he was one of the star players of the soccer team. but what most people didn’t know was that he was also a gifted student — especially in physics and math.

you knew this because you once went to your physics teacher’s office to ask for some help with your homework, when you overheard jake talking to him about some abstract theories that your brain couldn’t even dream of comprehending.

so, when you were given a task of helping the math board choose representatives for an upcoming competition, you went straight to him.

“i have to say, of all the pieces of paper i’ve been handed by girls in my life, this is probably the one that surprised me the most,” he said as he read through the form.

“why would it surprise you?” you asked. “you’re smart. if anyone can win this competition, it’s you.”

jake smiled at you. “is that you’re way of flirting with me.”

you deadpanned. “in what day and age would giving a math competition application form be considered flirting?”

jake let out a laugh and promised to think about it because, quote-on-quote, “a pretty girl asked me for a favour, how can i say no to that?”

eventually he accepted.

you didn’t have any reason to interact with each other afterwards, but somehow, as days passed, you found that he was slowly becoming less interested in flirting with other girls… and more interested in seeking you out instead.

it was a strange change seeing him blatantly ignore the other girls that would approach him, just to ran straight to you. offering to carry you bag, buying you snacks, offering to help you with your homework…

and to make things more confusing, he even proposed a bet. “if i win this,” he said, “go on a date with me.”

you agreed, knowing full well that you would lose the bet — and maybe you didn’t mind it all that much.

❝ you really have no idea what you do to me, do you, doll? i can tell. if you don’t believe when i tell you how devoted i am to you, i’ll just show you instead. ❞

𓆩♡𓆪 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

the cold and mysterious one

a real ice prince, this one — he had the prettiest face you’d ever seen on a boy ( which was understandable considering he was also a part-time model ) and yet it was always so cold that anyone who looked his way would feel like frozen twice over. he rarely spoke in class, but when he did it was to tell someone to “get lost” or to “watch where you’re going”.

of course, some girls loved him for his cold attitude and for being so hard to read — it was “intriguing” they’d say. 

whatever that meant.

you didn’t really interact with him much as a result, figuring that he didn’t like humans enough. and so, you didn’t blame him for not even glancing your way when you take a seat next to him after your teacher assigns you as desk mates.

every time you took a seat next to him, he would either be staring straight ahead, out the window ( because you two had window seats ), or just sleeping on his desk. but you didn’t mind — it was better than your situation with your last desk mate who wouldn’t shut up.

still, one day you got worried because everyone was going out to lunch, but he was still sound asleep on his desk. you wondered if he had any food to eat… 

that day, when you got to the cafeteria, you got an extra carton of milk and some cloud bread, hoping that sunghoon wouldn’t be too angry if you brought lunch to him.

you placed it on his desk without saying a word. to your surprise, he looked up, indicating that he was awake. at that moment, when he saw the food you brought him, he looked you in the eyes.

“thanks,” he said.

you blinked. “no problem.”

the next day, when you got to class, you found your favourite drink and snack there waiting for you on the desk.

and from there, you realised, perhaps sunghoon wasn’t as cold as you though — especially with the way he would take the time to talk to you in class about his cute puppy, or the way he would seek you out at lunch to eat together. not to mention that one time you accidentally fell asleep in class only to wake up to find a familiar blazer covering you.

at that moment he walked into the classroom, holding your favourite snacks in his hand. he smiled when he saw you were awake.

“you’re up?” he placed a hand over you forehead. “thankfully, it doesn’t look like you’re sick… but if you’re tired get more rest okay? i’ll watch over you.”

he didn’t seem to like human interaction. but you were an exception.

❝ who cares if people are staring? at least they know now that my heart belongs to you. hm? are you blushing right now? haha, you’re too cute, princess… what do i do with you? ❞

#enhypen x reader #jay x reader #JAY!!!!! #the cat thing omg ill die

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

My Hospital Bed or Yours?

Prompt: I feel like this could fit him really well - Changkyun and #15

Prompt:

15) You hurt yourself and your bias is in the hospital bed adjacent.

Prompt list can be found HERE.

Pairing: Monsta X Changkyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff

TW: Hospital setting. Mentions of fractures/appendicitis.

.

"Appendicitis," you muttered. "You're telling me it's appendicitis?"

"Unfortunately," your doctor sighed, tapping the side of your hospital bed.

"Well, I don't want it to be appendicitis," you grumbled, crossing your arms, only to cringe in pain from the movement.

"I certainly didn't want that either," the doctor chuckled. "But unfortunately, this is what it is."

"Sooo what's the next steps?"

"We'll have you stay the night and get you ready for surgery tomorrow morning," he nodded.

"Can't you just give me some antibiotics and I can go home?" you groaned.

"Not if you want to be back here in 6-8 weeks to try again."

You leaned your head back on the pillow and whined. "I don't like the hospital."

"I won't take that personally," the doctor chuckled. "I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

With that, your doctor sidestepped around the side of your privacy curtain and began talking to the patient who was in the room with you.

"How are we feeling today, Mr. Im?"

"Same as yesterday," a deep voice croaked. "My butt is numb and my leg is itchy."

"Would it be helpful if the nurse brought you a few more pillows to make yourself a bit more comfortable?"

"Comfort is an illusion here," he muttered bitterly. "I would however like my pudding cup at your earliest convenience."

The doctor let out a surprised laugh. "I'll have someone get right on that."

You heard the physician's steps exit the room and begin to retreat down the hallway. After a moment of silence, the voice on the other side of the curtain cleared its throat. "So, what are you in here for?"

"Appendicitis," you said weakly, but you guessed he had probably already heard that bit. "You?"

"Leg fracture," he sighed. "I'm currently in traction."

"In traction?"

"You know, where they put your leg into a tiny hammock and make it stay there for the rest of eternity?"

"Traction," you repeated. "Got it."

The silence lulled on for another moment. "Whatcha wearing?"

"I'm sorry?" you gasped, hardly believing your ears.

"Don't sound so scandalized," he laughed. "My vote is your hospital gown matches mine. Is it hideous?"

You looked down, furrowing your brow. "I mean...it's not the first thing I would pick to wear."

"Push the curtain back. Let's compare," he said. You could tell from the sudden fluttery motion of the fabric between you that he was attempting to grab at it with his fingertips.

You chewed on your lip, trying to decide if this was a good idea or not. You could just ignore the stranger, whoever he was. Surely he would stop trying to talk to you after some point. Then again, you would be stuck in a room with him for the next day or two. If you decided to stay silent, how awkward could things get?

"I'll make it worth your while," he tried again. "Half of this pudding cup could be yours."

"Fuck it," you thought before narrowing your eyes and focusing on the small pull stick that controlled the curtain. Trying to move as slowly and comfortably as possibly, you grabbed it and pushed it as hard as you could toward the opposite end of the curtain track.

The burst of movement maybe moved the fabric only four feet or so, but it was enough to expose your roommate.

You were shocked by the man you had uncovered. He was smirking mischievously at you, the smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. His hair was black, long, and disheveled, but it suited him. His tan skin had no pallor to it, which was a surprise considering he had been stuck in the hospital room since who knows when.

"Well hello to you too," he grinned, watching you as you took him in.

"Sorry," you squeaked, shaking your head. "I just...I... you weren't what I was expecting. That's all."

"Midsize, dark, and handsome?"

"I...well...midsize?" you fumbled.

"Yeah, I'm nowhere near "conventionally tall" so don't get your hopes up whenever they let me out of this hospital bed," he chuckled. "The adage of "tall, dark, and handsome" didn't quite work."

"Got it," you said quietly, your eyes still roaming his face.

"I'm Changkyun, if you were wondering. And my hypothesis has been confirmed," he nodded. "We are in matching hospital gowns. I've got to tell you, washed out mint is really your color."

"Thanks?" you pushed out. Was this guy for real? "I'm Y/N."

You allowed yourself to finally look away from him and face forward. Taking a deep breath of air through your nose, you slowly blew it from your mouth.

"I was eavesdropping and heard you have surgery tomorrow," Changkyun offered. "That's a bummer."

"Yeah," you said shortly, closing your eyes. You didn't want to even recognize that you were stuck in a hospital bed right now, let alone going in for a procedure.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. "Sorry if I'm making things worse. I can shut up."

"Please," you said quietly. "And thank you."

After several beats of silence, he cleared his throat again. "It's okay to be scared."

"I'm not scared," you grumbled.

"Didn't say you were. Just saying it was totally okay if you decided to be."

You groaned, opened your eyes again, and turned to face him.

"I'm freaked out," you said quietly, admitting it more to yourself than this stranger.

"That's a synonym for "scared"," he whispered back with a small smile. You couldn't help yourself as you let out a laugh that hurt entirely too much. "Don't think on it too much though. Everything will go great and then they'll wheel you right back here."

"I can hardly wait."

"I can tell," he grinned. "Seriously though, if you don't have anyone else to be here for you, I'm as good a choice as any."

"Oh?" You quirked up your brows. "How so?"

"Well, for starters, I am an A+ cuddler."

"Who said I wanted to cuddle?"

"That's comfort 101, baby," he hummed. "Plus, I'm cute, you're cute, according to science, that makes sense."

You couldn't help but smile. "You're absolutely ridiculous. Do you realize that?"

Changkyun attempted to sit up a bit. "I do in fact live in my head 87% of the time, so i have some idea. Back to the topic at hand though, my hospital bed or yours?"

You choked out a laugh and instantly regretted it as your insides throbbed.

"Sorry," he winced. "You can tell me to shut up again."

"Please don't," you said quietly. This man was absolutely wild, but he was turning your discomfort into something else entirely. You could appreciate that. "You're an excellent distraction."

"You know what else is an excellent distraction? Kissing," he said confidently. "I've heard it works wonders."

It was your turn to sit up now. With wide eyes, you tried to find words. "I don't even know you."

"You could."

Shaking your head. "I think your pain medication is doing the talking right now."

"Is not!" he gasped indignantly. "I know beauty when I see it, and I want your face on my face!"

"Yep," you nodded. "Definitely the medication."

"I will tell them to stop these pills right now and prove to you these are my stone-cold sober thoughts!" he whisper-yelled.

"You're telling me, you just enjoy kissing strangers?"

"If they're beautiful."

You felt heat travel with alarming speed up your neck and to your ears. You knew you weren't at your visual best right now, so any compliment came across well. "You're a flirt, Mr. Im."

"But," he said tapping his chin. "Is the flirting working?"

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of knowing."

"Oh, just wait until I get freedom to move again," he gasped. "I am so hopping on one foot over there and suffocating you with unwarranted affection."

"And what if I'm discharged before you are?"

"I'll bar the door with my hospital bed if you don't leave me your number," he said simply.

"And then what?"

"Then we ride my electric wheelchair off into the sunset."

#im changkyun #changkyun #monsta x #fic rec #this made me giggle like a 14 yo #im so down bad

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

X1 as ‘I want a baby’ meme (hyung line)

Seungwoo:

Seungyoun:

Wooseok:

Yohan:

Hangyul:

#that's so cute pls #x1

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

you look good in red

fluff ☁︎

no warnings!

pairings mark x gn!reader

read the second part ➪ here !

{7:45pm} ﹋ ֪֢ ♡︩ ·

you lied on your bestfriend!mark’s bed as he was humming and looking at his phone simultaneously. neither of you said anything, you just kept each other company while you were in your own worlds.

you admired the boy, tracing an imaginary outline of his soft features. you couldn’t help but giggle at his subtle reactions to whatever he came across on his phone

you couldn’t help but notice how the color of his shirt complimented his skin tone and features so well.

“you look good in red.”

mark looks up from his screen

“me?.. oh thanks”

“yeah…you should wear red more often..” you yawned as you flipped over to lie on your other side, hoping to seem collected through your embarrassment.

now you and mark were facing away from each other.

“what about you?” mark breaks the brief silence.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean do you look good in red?”

“oh uh i don’t know…”

“well then let’s see.”

mark grabs a hoodie, nearly the same color as his shirt, from his closet and tosses it to you.

“here, put this on.”

you slip his hoodie on.

mark takes a step back and pretends to contemplate how you look, although he already knew.

“hmmmmm…. maybe red isn’t your color..” mark teased.

you scoffed, and turned around to lie facing away from mark.

“i’m kidding!!!!!” mark giggled.

“y/n”

you felt the bed sink in slightly has mark lied down next to you.

“turn around”

you shifted over to lay on your other side to be faced with mark looking at you with fixed, careful eyes.

“y/n.”

“yeah?..”

“you do look good in red.”

hiiii im back after a little while… hope you like it !!!!!

(guys pls request stuffffff i dont know what to write lollllll)

#nct #mark lee #fic rec #so so so so so soft ptn

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

eye for an eye

fluff ☁︎

no warnings!

bestfriend!mark x fem!reader

bestfriend au | friends to lovers au

bf2l ♡ drabble

—*ೃ༄ {8:46pm}

you sat next to your bestfriend!mark on your couch, telling him about your day.

“and so then after-”

mark suddenly flicked your forehead, cutting you off.

“hey what was that for???”

“i don’t know.”

you stared at mark.

“continue.” he requests.

“no, no. you know how this works. you flick me, i flick you back. now come here, just a bit closer.” you say passive aggressively.

“psh what kind of logic is that?” mark says subtly scooting away from you.

“an eye for an eye. it’s only fair. now come here markie.”

“so does that mean if i push you, you have to push me back?” he nudges your shoulder.

“yes mark, that’s exactly what that means.” you said a little too calmly, smiling with wide eyes.

mark stood up abruptly, running over to the kitchen island, you following behind. he stood on the opposite side of the counter, hands planted on the surface, shifting his weight towards either side of the island, away from whichever side you stepped towards.

both of you were stuck, so the only reasonable thing for you to do was climb over the counter. before mark could get away, you grabbed his shoulders. then you realized what your situation looked like. you were sitting on the counter with your arms resting on the sides of mark’s neck, his hand on your knee, looking directly at each other.

“well i should probably head home before it gets too dark.” mark said.

you nodded, only breaking eye contact to let mark help you down from the counter.

“maybe you’ll get me next time.”

“hm” you said quietly in agreement.

maybe this type of situation should have been awkward, but it didn’t feel that way at all.

now in front of the door, mark pulls you in for a hug and says the usual “see ya later.”

it was never weird for you two to hug, but this time when he hugged you, your heart skipped one beat more than it usually did, as you and mark held on to each other for a little longer than normal.

you watched mark leave your apartment. lost in your thoughts from the way you just felt, you stared blankly at the closed door in front of you. about a minute of silence passed until you heard a knock. still standing in front of the door, you open it almost immediately to be faced with your bestfriend, mark.

“mark. wh-”

mark leaned in to peck your lips without any hesitation, catching you off guard.

“kay now do it back.” mark said expectantly.

“huh” is all you could say.

“an eye for an eye. you said it yourself.”

you blinked repeatedly.

“it’s only fair, right?” mark said through his smile and raised eyebrows, shaking his head, mocking you with your own words.

it took you a moment to comprehend what was happening.

to tease him back, you pinched his ears, pulling his head down more level to your face, directly guiding his lips to meet yours.

although the moment was brief, it was more than long enough for you to confirm exactly how you felt about mark.

“ow ow ow” mark said, giggling out of the kiss. “my ears.”

“there. now we’re even.” you let go of his ears.

mark’s annoyed sigh turned into a smile. he ruffled your hair and pulled you to his chest.

“mark.” you said into his shoulder.

“mhm?”

“are we like…dating now?”

“um i guess” mark patted your back.

“okay...boyfriend.” you giggled.

you felt mark’s arms tighten around you

“i love you…girlfriend”

hiii hope you don’t mind another mark bf2l (｀_´)ゞ

thx for reading!!!!!!

-☆

#nct #mark lee #fic rec #IM WEAK AND THIS WAS THE LAST STRAW #im mentally instable now THANK YOU

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

[22:38 PM] In the Seam – Mark Lee, suggestive, fluff

Hushed whispers and careful fingertips were a staple of Mark’s love, content sighs floating into your ear and casting a spell over your mind. With eyes pressed closed, one hand holding the back of his neck, the other grappling with his shoulders that securely held his weight just above you, nothing could break you apart at that moment.   

He was the sun that eclipsed the moon, burning bright through the night sky, hiding you so no one could glimpse the vulnerable, beautiful, rawest versions of yourselves. 

“So good,” he hums, breaking apart the kiss for a moment to flutter his lips across your cheek, landing just below your ear and sucking just long enough for your eyes to snap open. 

“Hey! No marks,” you pout at him.

“But I’m Mark,” he draws out his words, lazily letting his lips brush across your skin. “Should I go?” He teases, tracing the shape of your neck with his tongue. 

“Shut up,” you huff, gripping his shoulder tighter as he presses another open-mouthed kiss into your collarbone. He rolls his body forward slightly, closing the distance between your chests and bringing his hips into yours, seductive actions sending your mind further into a spiral of degenerate thoughts. He pulled away, your neck craning to chase his lips as he chuckled in a low, throaty voice.

“Make me.” 

Opening your eyes again, you look up, half-lidded gaze locking with Mark’s. Holding his gaze brazenly, the fire in your eyes found kindling in his cocky stare. Dropping your neck down to the pillow with a satisfying “hmph,” you press your lips together, loosening the fingers that had been pulling on his skin. He looks on, mouth agape, the fleeting innocence turning in on itself and running back to his widened eyes. 

“You have no game, Mark lee, none.” 

A click of your tongue is followed by tittering laughter that rings through the quiet room, Mark drawing his tongue over his lips as he watches your face bunch up in joy. 

“You love it, though,” he grins, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and tickling you with the strands of his hair. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself up to close the distance and press a sweet kiss against Mark’s lips. 

And, despite your words, it’s obvious that there is nowhere you’d rather be than tangled in the seams of the fabric that made up Mark Lee. 

#ARE YOU INSANE OR SMTH ??????? #mark lee #nct #fic rec

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

It’s Just a Song

✢ genre: f2l! song producer mark | fluff

✢ member: nct mark lee x reader

✢ word count: 4,900

✢ summary: mark lee never writes love songs. he says that duh, you’d have to be in love to do that. so, when you find his notebook open with loving words and doodles scratched onto it, screaming the words “LOVE SONG” in the air, you panic.

the boy you love has finally found a love of his own after all these years…what are you going to do about it?

✢ warnings: the idea of mark in this is just so cute, you may die.

✢ a/n: pls enjoy this while listening to Loving is Easy by Rex Orange County and I Will by the Beatles. crucial to understand the references. 

Please leave a like or a reblog! Comments and messages are always appreciated! Follow for more! Happy reading ♡

You don’t need to be in love to write about it. Sing about it.

It’s simple and sad and cynical, but ultimately the truth.

Just like other jobs that require a constant roll of output, sometimes writing is just what it is; a job. No less, no more. As a bright-eyed passionate student fresh out of university and headstrong ready to get into the music industry, this was a hard lesson for you to learn. Turns out not everyone’s in it because of their passion, and if they were, they aren’t anymore.

One person, however, didn’t undergo that character change.

Signed under the same record company, you sought for some comfort in the only other intern that came from your school and he easily found it in you too. Mark Lee, most likely the only reason you’re still this passionate in songwriting, who also happens to be the one all your love songs are addressed to.

“Where do you get your inspiration from Y/N? Special someone?” he’d ask. Again, you’d send him a look, praying that he’d just get the hint and simultaneously hoping that he’d never either. “Magician’s secret.” Is all you’d say and once more your serenade ends up unheard.

You’re fine with that. That is, until you find that maybe he has a muse of his own hidden in his shadowy corners.

Afficher davantage

#nct #mark lee #fic rec #soooo cute :((((

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

runway (m) | jung yoonoh

pairing: model!jaehyun x fashion designer!reader

words: 18.7k

summary: there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts. 

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, light smut, comedy-ish

warnings: sexual content, mentions of anxiety

a/n: woohooooooo she’s finally here!!!! i cant believe this!! everything aside, i do not have first hand experience working in the fashion industry so please do take this with a grain of salt. i’m also going to pass out. good night <3

A list of things you appreciate: colours, satin, comfort.

A list of things you do not appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

The hum of the car engine has little effect on you; you travel like this almost every day. Tall buildings, scorching pavement, the blare of traffic—it’s Seoul, after all. You sigh, more of a short expression of annoyance, scrolling down with your thumb and back up again. Since when did he get permission to post pictures from pre-fittings? And one of your works, no less. 

His feed is so messy. You click your tongue. For a model, that is. 

Afficher davantage

#fic rec #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun #e2l #im a sucker for e2l

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

your followers would love me if I asked for gojo fluff. so instead I'm going to ask for hawks fluff <3

with this prompt please: "Don't go on that date." "Why?" "You know why." "Say it."

but also it's no big deal if you don't want to write it!!

𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 | 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎.

keigo’s tired.

he’s so tired of giving all the signs, he’s so tired of dropping all the hints, and he’s so incredibly tired of watching you look right past it all—right past him—and stare with heart eyes at the next guy who can break you. he thinks it’s unfair that you’re so hellbent on not seeing that he’s the right guy for you, and he thinks it’s even more unfair that he simply can’t bring himself to tell you he’s the right guy for you too.

“do you think this outfit is—hey! are you even listening?” you huff, looking at him with furrowed brows and a glare as he fiddles with his goggles in his hands, bored out of his mind.

keigo is selfish, he knows this. if he wasn’t, he’d stay far away from you. he’d keep you at arms length away from the mess that is his job, and the mess that is his life, and the mess that is him.

he knows that you deserve better. you deserve someone who’s not him—but he also knows you deserve someone who’s not like your previous dates. he’s not sure why you have such a taste for despicable men, but he thinks he’s at least a step up from them, and he figures if you’re after a guy that’ll ruin your life, why not pick one that can at least show you a good time? and maybe a good view from way up in the sky too, while you’re at it.

“just wear the same one as last time,” he grumbles, “you’re not gonna go on a second date anyway.”

“well, that’s rude,” you mumble, frowning and dropping the shirt in your hands as your cross your arms. he feels the urge to kiss the pout off your lips, and it’s so unbearably frustrating that he can’t, so incredibly bitter, that he has to look away from you. “what’s got your feathers all ruffled? you’re supposed to be supportive.”

“i support good decision making,” he raises a brow, “he’s a horrible decision.”

“and what is, then? you?” you snort, and this time the pout is on his lips instead. he really wishes you wouldn’t do that. he really wishes you wouldn’t see the idea of him as so unimaginable, it’s a joke that falls off your lips without a second thought.

keigo thinks that all things considered, even if his life is a rollercoaster of unceremonious events, and even if he’s a little clueless in the department of love, he could love you really purely. he knows this like he knows how quick his feathers can catch a falling old lady in the streets, and he knows this like he knows how to find out things he really shouldn’t be finding out from the commission.

he loves you. it’s that simple, and he can learn how to love you the right way if you just saw that he was the right choice.

“well, at least i’m not as ugly as the last few,” he huffs, and then his lips are curling into a dashing smile, pearly whites all but blinding you as they show themselves. “did you know i was labeled one of the current hottest—”

“i know. you only said it like a thousand times,” you groan. he snickers at the way you roll your eyes, and you fight back a grin at the sound. “they wouldn’t think you’re so hot if they held a five minute conversation with you,” you tease, and he throws his arms behind his back and sinks further into your bed, amused expression printed across his face.

you have to admit to yourself he is hot—but you definitely don’t have to admit it to him.

“then you must think i’m really hot. we talk for hours,” he smirks, sending you a wink in victory as though he’s won this pointless argument. you can’t help but chuckle, and he grins at you as you do. “we could be great together, you know. opposites attract.”

keigo might not have gotten the chance yet to take you on a date, but he gets to see a side of you that none of those guys ever have, and he thinks he can mark that as a victory. even if it’s a small one.

“so if you’re hot, what does that make me?” you raise a brow.

“the opposite of that,” he says smoothly, but you can tell from the way he eyes you softly, from the way his voice is a little more breathless as he takes in the sight of you before him, he really doesn’t mean it.

“you’re definitely as charming as my dates,” you scoff, shaking your head as you turn back to find another outfit. but his voice stops you, and there’s a bit of urgency in it that makes you halt.

keigo doesn’t know why, but he knows that if he lets you go on this date, something might change, and he’s never let anything slip past his fingers in the air, and he certainly won’t let you slip past them while you’re standing right here before him.

“don’t go on that date,” he almost pleads. you clutch the shirt in your hands a little tighter. you trust keigo, you really do. you trust he’ll always swoop in and protect you, but you have to wonder if he can protect you from himself.

“why?” you squint at him. he gulps, looking down at the goggles in his hands.

“you know why,” he mumbles softly. keigo’s always got something to say—even when he shouldn’t, and you’ve scolded him one too many times for that in the past. you think he can at least have the decency to admit this to you verbally before you even think about handing him your heart.

“say it,” you say firmly. there’s a moment of silence, and you almost think you have your answer. he’s not going to say anything, and you slowly nod to yourself before going to turn back to your closet. but his voice cuts you off again.

“we could be good together. opposites attract.”

and keigo’s got a mess of a life—but he thinks you’re the small bit of order that could make it feel just the slightest bit normal.

#keigo x reader #hawks x reader #fic rec #there you go #fainting again ByE

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

pretty — keigo takami

the sun rays filter from the curtains of the huge window. they illuminate the whole room, brightening the colors, reflecting on the water in the glasses on the table.

and they frame his face perfectly. his tan skin looks flawless, the rays dance across his cheeks, they kiss his closed eyes, his strands ressembling real gold in the lighting. awe swirls in your eyes as your fingers run through his locks.

"my birdy senses are tingling, pretty," he speaks up from your lap.

no need to open his eyes when he just knows you're staring. he can feel it, and he loves it. an attention whore, you'd say. ah, but just for your attention, he'd answer. instead, you scoff.

"i think i should be the one calling you pretty."

his nose scrunches as he runs his gears through that one.

"i don't know... i think "hot" or "sexy" would be more fitting," he bargains.

"nah... i think mirko falls more into that category," you tease, fingers pinching his nose.

at that, an offended gasp leaves him, eyes shooting open to glare at you, and he's so ready to take you down by force if he needs to. but then he sees your face. and your eyes.

nobody has ever looked at him like that. his fans have adoration in their eyes, they look up to him, but this tenderness is new.

someone cares.

"...say it again."

"huh?"

"you can call me pretty," he mutters, and if you'd ask he'd blame the warmth of the sun for the redness on his cheeks, "so long as you give me my kisses."

"you big baby," you snicker, leaning down to give him his kisses.

"your big baby."

#hawks #hawks x reader #fic rec #so cute i'll faint

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

KISS U RIGHT NOW (L.MK)

pairing. mark lee x fem!reader genre. some fluff, smut word count. 6.9k contents. kissing, breast play, fingering (receiving), oral (giving), unprotected sex

summary. in which mark just really wants to kiss you. alternative summary. five times mark wanted to kiss you and one time he actually does.

notes. happy (belated) birthday @najaemarkl !! this fic is based off the song ‘kiss u right now’ by duckwrth 🥰

saturday.

Mark thinks he might be going insane.

Mark is standing in the middle of this party on a Saturday night, red Solo cup in his hand, surrounded by dancing bodies, among which there are undoubtedly several girls who would go for him.

Mark is standing in the middle of this party, and all he can think about is how badly he wants to kiss you, his best friend. 

monday.

It started as an inkling these past couple of weeks, but it got a little stronger on Monday, a persistent nagging feeling as he watched you in the back of your shared Linguistics class. You’d knocked your dangly earring out in your hurry to raise your hand and answer a question your professor had asked, and were currently preoccupied with lightly dragging the point of the earring hook against your lobe in an attempt to find the piercing hole.

There’s something about the soft tilt of your head, the focused look on your face as you devote your attention to putting your earring back in, and the way the tip of your tongue peeks out in concentration that has Mark seeing you in a light getting further and further from platonic by the day. 

He wants to feel your tongue against his lips, wants to caress that space of your neck you’re thoughtlessly exposing to him with his hand, feel the soft skin under his fingertips, tilt your chin towards him and lean forward to connect your lips. You’re nibbling at your bottom lip now as you write something down in your notes, and Mark bets you wore that lip balm he’s always loved the smell of, unbeknownst to you due to his never mentioning it, and he wishes he could just lean over and see how it tastes—

“Mark!” You whisper, placing your hand on his thigh just a centimeter above his knee, and Mark jolts out of his stupor, meeting your gaze with a sheepish tint to his cheeks and ears that he prays you don’t notice or ignore. “I asked if you have correction tape? I made a mistake.” You frown and Mark almost spirals all over again at the sight of your bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he just wants to kiss over and over until it goes away in favor of a smile. 

“Uh, yeah—I definitely do,” He stumbles over his words as he roots through his pencil case and finds it, passing it to you. Your hands touch, fingers brushing the other’s palm, as you take it from him with a grateful smile, and Mark knows you definitely don’t think much of it, but he’s thinking about how soft your hand is, how warm, how he wishes he could just reach over and hold it for no reason other than the fact that he wants to.

Mark’s not sure if this wave of wanting to kiss you is going away anytime soon, but he hopes it does—for his sake.

tuesday.

Mark’s inkling, his persistent nagging feeling, turns into a whisper on Tuesday, accompanied with a phantom tugging sensation that he fears might literally pull him towards you for more than comfort when he comes over to your dorm, as requested, to see a very sad and teary-eyed you sitting on your rug dejectedly. He almost drops the takeout bag he carefully carried from your favorite Chinese food restaurant to your dorm, and he cannot afford such a financial loss, so he clutches onto it protectively.

The glossy look in your eyes, lashes, now wet with tears, clumping together, your pouty bottom lip—that damn lip—trembling slightly with the weight of unshed tears, and the occasional sniffles you let out almost make Mark drop the damn takeout bag, the male floored by how pretty someone can look when they cry. He approaches you carefully, settling down on the rug beside you and folding his limbs in somewhat clumsily. When you look over at his struggle, a small chuckle escapes you, and Mark’s heart clenches at the sound, eyes sweeping over your frame to assess any physical injuries you might have. Finding none, Mark sighs in relief and slumps back, his head resting against the side of your covered mattress.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Mark asks softly. You hadn’t specified what was wrong in your distress signal text; you only sent “SOS,” your and Mark’s Best Friend Code for “come over and bring comfort food,” and Mark readily complied as soon as he caught sight of the notification banner; he’s not sure if this is a symptom of being hopelessly whipped for you or just a testament to the strength of your friendship.

He’s pretty sure it’s the former, as another glance at your tear-streaked cheeks sends his poor heart lurching again, but Mark really hopes for his sake that it’s the latter.

“No,” You mumble, sniffling twice before meeting his gaze with wide, shining eyes that, to Mark, are just screaming for him to lean forward and capture your lips with his. “Just need you here.”

“I’m here,” Mark promises, and sets about opening the takeout containers and laying everything out as nicely as he can, even using some textbooks from his backpack and your desk as a makeshift table. “I got your favorite.” He says hopefully, spearing a piece of chicken and bringing it to your lips expectantly. You laugh softly, the sound fond, your cheeks lifting into a smile as you lean forward, accept the forkful, and chew, relief taking over your body as Mark watches you visibly relax.

You slump against Mark’s arm, resting your head against his shoulder, and Mark prays you can’t hear the pounding of his heartbeat which sounds out loud and clear in his own ears. Mark drapes an arm around your shoulders and tries not to stiffen when you turn yourself inwards, tucking yourself into his side and humming softly, tries not to let his desires take over and give in to the tugging feeling that urges him to nudge your head up with his own and slot your lips together.

Mark really isn’t sure if he can hold out much longer.

wednesday.

Wednesday almost has Mark caving when you two lie on his bed, watching movies on his laptop. You’re so close, the side of your thigh pressed up against his, hips brushing, shoulders touching, and Mark knows it’d be so easy to turn and press his lips to yours. 

To make matters worse, Mark’s eyes keep trailing down to your chest, which moves every time you laugh, and by the time you’re engrossed in the film, Mark’s lost interest entirely, instead opting to study your features and reactions. Try as he might, Mark’s eyes continue to wander down to your breasts, shamefully gazing as if looking hard enough would grant him the feeling of what it’d be like to touch you.

Mark’s finally coming to accept that he wants to do more than kiss you; far more, actually. He wants to touch you, hold you, be intimately familiar with the taste and feel of you—

More than anything, though, Mark wants to love you. If you’d let him. He wants to make you smile, laugh, understand the meaning of love songs—he wants to spin you around in the rain and leave kiss after kiss against your lips and trailing down your neck to your collarbones. He wants to buy you thoughtful gifts and watch your eyes light up; he wants to be the one to wipe your tears and kiss everything all better.

He wants, firstly, however, to know if you even want that from him. He hopes you do. Overwhelmed by his thoughts and unshakable desires, Mark reaches up and fitfully runs his fingers through his hair, no doubt messing it up. He mumbles a quick apology when his sudden movement causes you to jolt in surprise, looking over at him. To his confusion, you don’t look away yet, observing him for another moment before leaning towards him.

Is this it? Is this the moment Mark’s been dreaming about for ages? He can barely contain his excitement, reflexively nibbling his bottom lip out of nervous habit, and he tries to remember to breathe, to relax, there’s no good in kissing someone who’s stiff as a board—

“You messed your hair up,” You murmur distractedly, reaching up and ruffling his hair, adjusting it until he looks presentable. “All better,” You say sweetly with a soft smile, and Mark wants nothing more than to cup your face and kiss you over and over and over until your smile is so wide he can’t kiss you anymore.

Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him? Mark hopes you don’t, because that would be uncharacteristically cruel of you.

“Thanks,” He forces out a small chuckle, and your brows furrow instantly, of course they do, you know each other like the back of your hand.

“You okay?” You ask curiously, a tinge of worry in your voice, and Mark nods reassuringly. “You sure? You can talk to me about anything, you know.”

As Mark successfully de-escalates the situation and redirects your attention to the movie, he can’t help but think that there are, unfortunately, some things he might be better off keeping to himself.

thursday.

By Thursday, Mark doesn’t know how much longer he can hold his feelings in. He’s driving down the road, endlessly pursuing the night if it means staying by your side, and you’re sitting right next to him, content as can be.

“Were we supposed to be turning soon?” Mark asks, and you look over at him, shrugging.

“I dunno.” 

“You’re riding shotgun,” Mark chuckles, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel and looking over at you. “You’re in charge of directions.”

“Nuh-uh,” You counter, furrowing your brows—very cutely, Mark thinks to himself—and turning slightly to face him better. “I’m a passenger princess.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mark snickers, and you nod firmly, settling back into your seat.

“Yep,” You reply, popping your lips on the “p.” “I’m in charge of looking pretty and maintaining the good vibes.”

“Well, in that case, you’re doing an excellent job,” Mark replies with a laugh, barely registering his words until they’ve settled in the now thick air between you two.

“…Did you just call me pretty, Mark?” You tease, reaching over and tugging at his pinking ear.

“Don’t distract the driver!”

“Answer my question!”

“Maybe I did.” He admits, and you smile widely, flipping down the mirror and checking your reflection. Mark steals a glance while you do, studying the slope of your nose, the curl of your lashes, and the faint pucker of your lips as you reapply your lip balm, the faint but pleasant scent of cherry Chapstick wafting past Mark’s nose.

He’s never been one for cherries, but he can honestly say he’s never wanted to taste them so badly in his life.

“Why, thank you, Mark.” You don’t yet look at him, fixing your hair in the mirror before flipping it back up, and Mark’s eyes rove over your face with an almost hunger, drinking in your beauty as you sit beside him, entirely unaware. When you turn to look at him, he shifts his gaze back to the road as if he’d never been looking, and you hum thoughtfully, picking up your phone and connecting it to the Bluetooth speakers in his car. “Any requests?”

“Nah, play what you want,” Mark offers. “I trust your taste in music.”

“Mark, you’re just killing it with the compliments tonight.” You say gleefully, stretching your legs out before you cross one leg over the other. Mark can see the faint line of muscle in the side of your thigh, and he wants so desperately to run his fingers along it, press his lips to the indentation, leave kisses lower and lower and back up until his mouth grazes your inner thighs— “Who are you practicing on me for?”

“I’d never use you as practice,” Mark replies indignantly, offended that you’d even suggest such a thing. 

“Sorry,” You stress the word with a playful lilt as you raise your hands defensively. “Was just asking.” The car falls into a comfortable silence between you two as the song you picked plays in the car speakers. ‘Crush’ by DUCKWRTH sounds throughout the car, and Mark can barely hold back his chuckle at just how apt your song choice is. 

He’s crushing, and he’s crushing bad. 

He can’t help but steal glances at your bare legs as he drives, eyes gravitating towards that damn muscle, and he’s moving before he knows it, reaching over to you with his closest hand. He wants to stop, pretend it never happened, but he’s more than halfway to you and to stop now would mean an awkward retreat of his hand back to his lap, and he doesn’t think his pride could handle that.

He swallows hard and pushes past his worries—literally—and pats your knee comfortingly, his hand almost trembling under the feeling of your warm, soft skin under his palm.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Mark echoes his sentiment from earlier. “Use you as, like, flirting target practice or something.” He hopes he sounds sincere because he means every word. 

You have no idea that you’re the main event to Mark. 

You smile at him, eyes bright, and place one hand on top of his, patting it gently and leaving it there. Mark’s over the moon, floating on cloud nine, and it’s a miracle he can stay focused on the road and not swerve off from how frazzled his thoughts have become. 

“Passenger princess?” He calls to you, and you hum in acknowledgement, half-turning to look at him. “Can you go above and beyond your job description and look up the directions, please?” 

“Mm,” You hum thoughtfully, tapping your chin with your index finger of the hand holding your phone. “I guess I can do that.” You answer finally, shooting him a teasing grin before unlocking your phone and devoting your attention to it.

To be honest, Mark could drive for hours aimlessly if it meant getting to keep his hand on your leg and you by his side.

friday.

By the time you two get your food, eat it in Mark’s car, and drive somewhere to relax, it’s well past midnight and officially Friday, the night enveloping you two in its cool embrace. As soon as he puts the car in park, you’re leaping out of the passenger side door and making your way to the front of the vehicle.

Mark can’t help but chuckle as he gets out of the car and heads over to where you’re standing at the precipice of the overlook, all the city lights twinkling in the night.

“It’s so pretty,” You sigh dreamily, the lights reflecting in your eyes, and Mark can’t help but agree, his gaze only on you. You’re practically bouncing on your heels with excitement, bounding back over to his car and carefully sitting on the hood, crossing your legs at the ankles.

“It really is,” Mark echoes, but he’s still watching you, mentally hyping himself up for his next move. Swallowing thickly, he throws caution to the wind and walks over to where you sit, standing so your knees push against his hips. 

Mark’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t for you to uncross your ankles and hook them behind his legs to pull him closer to you. You release him almost immediately, the moment fleeting, but the mischievous grin on your face sends Mark’s heart lurching as he wants nothing more than to cup your face and press his lips to yours. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask curiously, and Mark blinks out of his daze.

“Nothing?” He winces inwardly at how defensive he sounds, and by the unconvinced look on your face, you’ve picked up on it too.

“You’re biting your lip like you do when you get all…in your head.” You point out, tapping his chin lightly, and he swallows before releasing his poor bottom lip. “Let me in there, Mark.” You say softly, reaching up to trace light circles on his forehead. “What are you thinking?”

I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so bad that it hurts, Mark groans internally, but says nothing yet. In an act of boldness he’ll surely regret later, he loops his fingers around your wrist and brings your hand down to your lap, slowly slipping his digits between yours. You smile down at your linked hands fondly, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and Mark thinks for one hopeful moment that you want him too. 

Mark looks up from your hands, pushing away the thoughts of how nicely they fit together, to see that you two are much closer than he thought; your eyelashes are close enough to count, and he can smell that fucking lip balm that drives him insane. A shaky breath leaves him before he can stop it, a breath of anticipation, of hope, of—

“Mark!” You laugh incredulously, and he jolts, sheepishly refocusing his gaze on you. “You disappeared again.” You murmur fondly, releasing his hand and trailing your fingers up his arm to tickle the back of his neck lightly. 

“Sorry,” Mark mumbles, nerves sitting tight in his throat, a lump he can’t seem to swallow, and you shake your head dismissively, smiling up at him.

“Will you take me with you next time?” You joke softly, and he nods before he knows he’s doing it, his body so tuned into you that he’d give you anything you want without a second thought. “Good.” You sigh, content, and Mark makes another bold move, acting on his desires for the second time tonight—third if you count his touching your leg in the car—and stepping closer until his knees hit the bumper, placing his hands on the car on either side of your body to tentatively trap you in. 

Your bright eyes look up at him curiously and, if he’s allowing himself to indulge in his thoughts, challengingly, as if daring him to take the step he so desperately wants to. His chest swells with anticipation, his eyes slowly dropping down to your lips, and he thinks for a moment about leaning in and biting the bullet. 

But flashes of your panicked, nervous, even disgusted possible reaction to him have Mark popping the balloon of hope suddenly, an awkward laugh forcing itself out instead as he leans back from you slightly, freeing you from his embrace.

“You’re welcome anywhere I go,” Mark assures you. 

Your responding smile almost soothes the ghostly chill of rejection Mark imagined.

Almost.

saturday. (again.)

A cracking noise startles Mark out of his thoughts, with him quickly coming to realize that his grip on his cup has tightened considerably, denting the cup. He’s about to go and toss the cup, having lost his taste for the drink inside, when he hears his name being called from behind him.

“Hey, you.” Your voice cuts through the sounds of the party with ease, and Mark turns his head as your arms wrap around him in a tight backhug. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothin’, really.” Mark answers, shrugging casually.

“I ask because you love this song, and yet you were just standing in the middle of the floor like a statue.” You snicker, and he balks, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

“Oh, nothing, for real; just thinking about school.”

“Thinking about school on a Saturday night? Don’t we come here to do the exact opposite of that?” You tease, and he chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Come with me to the bathroom? I need you to stand guard.” You grin widely in an attempt to convince him, and Mark fights back the urge to chuckle. 

You have no idea that he’d do damn near anything for you.

“C’mon.” He murmurs, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow just a step behind him, Mark’s hand ghosting along the small of your back as he guides you through the many bodies. For a brief second, Mark loses you, the feel of your back slipping away startling him into turning around to see you a couple of feet back stuck behind a kissing couple. 

He moves back towards you, hand returning to your back as you graciously lean into him, and continues making his way through the crowd, keeping you closer to him than before. Your hand grips the hem of his shirt—Mark guesses it’s so you two don’t get separated again—and Mark’s hand accidentally dips under the hem of your shirt, fingertips briefly grazing the bare skin of your waist. His mind reeling, Mark moves his fingers and, if you notice, you say nothing, readily following him upstairs to the bathroom.

When you two reach the door, the last thing Mark expects is for you to pull him into the bathroom with you, the sound of the door clicking shut finally letting the situation sink in. 

“Are you sure you want me in here—”

“I’m not actually using the bathroom, Mark.” You laugh, leaning up against the sink and inspecting your reflection. Mark watches as you pull your lip balm from your pocket and apply it to your lips, and he can’t help but wonder if you’re doing this on purpose. “I missed you, y’know.” You hum thoughtfully, and Mark makes a surprised sort of sound.

“Yeah?” He asks, trying and failing to hide his incredulity. 

“Yep,” You confirm. You turn to face him with a (very cute) frown. “Did you not miss me?”

“No—I mean yes, of course I did—”

“Then why wouldn’t I miss you?” You counter, and he presses a hand over his face, laughing despite his building nerves.

“You just love messing with me, don’t you?” He chuckles, and you shrug, lips curling into a beguiling smile.

“I like pulling you out of your head, Mark.” You say. “I like knowing what you’re thinking.”

Mark thinks that it’s basically now or never; when else is he going to get the opportunity to tell you how he feels?

“You know, lately, I’ve been thinking about—” Mark starts off boldly, but he cuts himself off at the last minute, still unsure if he wants to take that forward step and possibly ruin your relationship.

“Mark, you’re always so in your head.” You chuckle fondly, leaning in towards him. “Thinking about what?”

“Thinking about…kissing you.” Mark finishes slowly, and the look in his eyes when he looks up from his shoes to meet your gaze is a look you’ve never seen from him before. He steps towards you, your feet inch back reflexively, and this continues as he slowly backs you up against the countertop, his hands coming to rest by your hips on the sink, carefully closing you in.

“Oh, yeah?” You hum, blinking slowly at him, and your lips curl into a small grin.

“Yeah.” Mark’s serious—more serious than you’ve seen him in a while—and the intensity in his gaze has arousal stirring in your lower abdomen as you watch him intently.

“And how long have you been thinking about this?” You ask softly, voice low and curious. Mark chuckles finally, looking away from you for a moment before answering you.

“A while.”

“How long is a while?” You press.

“Couple weeks.” He answers, knowing he’s severely lowballing it, and you roll your eyes, nudging his thigh with your knee.

“And you never thought to tell me this because…?” You question, and he shrugs dismissively.

“Didn’t think you were interested.” He replies, and you nod thoughtfully.

“Ah.” You say. “That’s stupid.” 

Mark lets out a small chuckle as he leans even closer to you, his face closer to yours than it’s ever been. “Don’t make me laugh right now.”

“Why not?” You tease, gently poking his stomach and trying to mask your surprise when you feel firm muscle as opposed to the squishiness you expected. “You can kiss me, you know.”

“Stop talking,” Mark groans, his brows furrowing, and you grin at him mischievously.

“Or what?” You’re lifting up onto your tiptoes, leaning in closer to him and stopping just before your lips connect. “What if I don’t?”

“I’ll make you.” His words thrill your mind and the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips thrills your body, your blood starting to buzz in anticipation.

“Mm, is that a threat or a promise?” You know Mark well enough to know he needs to be goaded into boldness, and you’re just the right person for the job.

“Whichever you want.” His voice is throatier, huskier, and almost unbearably attractive.

“I want you to shut up and kiss me already.” You lightly bump the tip of your nose against his, a wide, excited smile growing on your lips.

“I can do that.” He breathes, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck as he pulls you in and finally connects your lips. The kiss isn’t an explosive fire right away, but a slow, warm one that builds steadily to an inferno as you two get used to the feeling and taste of each other. 

Mark’s mind is reeling, finally getting to taste your lip balm, which is almost as delicious as the unique taste that’s just you, and he thinks for a moment that he could probably stay there forever with you.

Before you can even process it, Mark’s kissing has morphed from cautious and hesitant to heated and passionate, and his hips press against you, pushing you against the countertop of the sink more insistently. His fingers on the back of your neck slip into the hair on your nape, tugging not-so-gently at the locks. When you softly gasp in surprise, he pulls back as if you’d shocked him, eyes wide and apologetic.

“Is this okay?” He asks worriedly, and you scoff, leaning into his embrace.

“Yes, Mark. Didn’t I say something along the lines of ‘less talking, more kissing?’” You huff, and he grins, pulling you back against him to slot your lips together once more. “You don’t have to be gentle, Mark—I can take it.”

“God, you’re gonna drive me insane.” He groans under his breath, sounding strained as he obliges and presses you against the countertop roughly, hands flying to your hips to lift you, guiding you on top of the sink. His lips detach from yours and start descending down your neck, sucking and licking, his fingers digging into your hips as he moans against your skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He grunts, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your sweet scent as he presses his lips to your skin over and over. 

“That feels so good, Mark,” You hum, content with the feeling of Mark’s mouth working away at your neck.

“Can I—?” He starts, but you cut him off.

“You don’t need to ask about everything, Mark,” You chuckle fondly, pulling your neck away from his lips in favor of running your fingers through his hair and tugging gently. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” 

“Promise?” Mark mumbles worriedly.

You nod. “When have I ever missed out on an opportunity to complain about something?” You say playfully, and Mark relaxes visibly as he laughs and nods in agreement.

“Good point.” He murmurs, and you smile sweetly as you pull him in for another kiss. “In that case,” Mark says in a low tone, lips pressed to yours, “I’m gonna indulge for a bit.”

Before you can ask what he means by that, he’s yanking your shirt up and over your head and discarding it thoughtlessly on the floor, his hands finding your waist and slowly gliding up to your chest, where he cups your breasts and squeezes, kneading them and tugging gently at your nipples through your bra.

Without his having to ask, you reach back and unclip your bra, shrugging the straps off and letting the garment fall off of you. It lands between you and Mark on the floor and Mark looks down at it, up at you, down at your bare breasts with wide eyes, then back up at you in awe.

“Damn, you’re incredible,” He groans, his hands eagerly massaging and caressing your breasts as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your chest towards him. His lips attach to your neck, kissing and nipping his way down to your chest, where he takes a nipple into his mouth. You moan lowly and tip your head back, hissing when his teeth catch your sensitive bud, tugging and releasing before swirling the tip of his tongue around it and sucking. He cups both of your breasts in his hands, pressing them together, before rolling his tongue over your nipples, moving from one to the other eagerly and punctuating his surprisingly skillful swirls with gentle nips. 

“Feels good, Mark,” You sigh dazedly, a lazy but content smile curling your lips, and he groans, the sound low in his throat, in response, sucking at your nipples with more fervor. He bathes your chest in wet kisses, groaning louder when you whine plaintively. 

His hand leaves your breast to snake between your bodies and unbutton your jeans, pushing into your underwear and stroking along your folds, parting them until he reaches the fleshy pearl of your clit. Your hips jolt at the touch, Mark releasing your nipple from the warmth of his mouth and moving up to kiss you as you rock down on his fingers.

His fingers, thicker than you expected, push past your entrance, two digits curling inside of you and eliciting a pleased hum from you. He slowly fucks his fingers into you, your walls slick and tight around them, and he can’t help but think about how tight you’re going to feel when he’s finally inside of you.

“Right there—” You whimper when he hits a spot that has your toes curling, and he chuckles, diligently thrusting his fingers into you repeatedly as your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and making him hiss. “Sorry,” You pant and he kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly, an unspoken acceptance of your apology. You turn his face to yours and kiss him full on, Mark moaning against your lips as your core flexes around him. 

You’re practically riding his fingers at this point, breathy whimpers escaping you as he strokes along your inner walls, your orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“Mark, ‘m gonna—” You moan, and he nods, flicking his tongue into your mouth and kissing you through your climax, the liplock turning sloppy and clumsy as your lips part to moan his name and a string of swears. 

As soon as the aftershock trembles disappear, you’re pushing him back gently, creating enough space between you two for you to slip off the sink and sink to your knees.

Mark thinks he could faint at the sight of you looking up at him, opening his pants with one hand. His cock aches at the prospect of your mouth wrapped around it, and he tilts your chin up to look at you better.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Mark assures you, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that, Mark.” Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and he hisses. “I want to.” Your mouth is around the head of his cock without a moment to prepare himself, and Mark swears—loudly—his head tipping back and thumping against the wall behind him. Mark whimpers, both in pain and from pleasure, and your giggle tickles his ears as you pull off of him and pump his length up and down, positioning yourself above his length to drip a trail of spit down onto his tip, working your fist over it to lubricate your movements. 

Mark blinks down at you in awe, shuddering when you take his length as far into your mouth as it’ll go, the tip of your nose pressed against his stomach as you swallow around him.

He whimpers when you start bobbing your head slowly, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock with every movement. His breaths are ragged, chest heaving, blunt nails scratching uselessly at the wall behind him, and he curses when his hips buck up of their own accord, sending his length further into your mouth. There’s a moment of bliss when he’s smoothly sliding into your mouth only to be topped by a second of ecstasy when he hits the back of your throat, which flexes around him and drags out a groan of delight from deep in his chest.

“Sorry—” Mark whispers, poorly restraining the urge to thrust into your mouth. You pull off slowly, swiping your tongue over your lips to break the string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his tip, and when you speak, your voice has a slight rasp to it that has Mark’s eyes practically rolling back into his head.

“Do you wanna fuck my mouth, Mark?” You ask with a beguiling smile, your hand slowly stroking his length, and it’s all he can do to stop his knees from buckling right now. 

“I’m not gonna last if I do,” He warns you in a choked voice, and you frown.

“But I want you to finish inside of me.” You huff petulantly, and he groans, gripping your wrist to stop your movements.

“You can’t say that or I’ll cum right now.” He complains, and you roll your eyes. 

“Then I’ll finish that later.” You decide, and Mark successfully contains his surprise at the prospect of doing this again with you. You stand back up and Mark’s hands move to your hips, the gesture almost second nature, before he’s gently pushing you back so you’re pressed up against the sink countertop. He nudges himself between your legs and brings the thick head of his cock to your entrance, gliding it up and down through your slick folds to collect your arousal. “Mark, we don’t exactly have the luxury of time.” You chuckle, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Well, sorry for wanting to take my time with you.” He mumbles, and a fondness spreads through your body, your lips curling up into a sweet smile. He pushes into you slowly, and you hiss at the stretch, your best friend being more well-endowed than you expected. “Told you I should slow down.” Mark wants to gloat, but his heart seizes with concern at the look of discomfort on your face.

“I’m fine,” You answer stubbornly. “Just—give me a minute.” Mark nods and rubs comforting circles into your hips, bringing his lips to your neck to press sweet kisses from your ear to your shoulder and back up again. 

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Mark urges against your skin, brushing his parted lips along the spot behind your ear, and you sigh blissfully.

“You can move,” You murmur, and he thanks the powers that be as he pushes forward into you, bottoming out and feeling the tight wet warmth of your walls wrapped around him. Both of you let out a moan, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder, and he pulls out before starting to thrust into you, deep strokes reaching every spot inside of you that makes your mind go blank. “Shit, Mark,” You cry out as he fucks into you with all the desperation and desire he’s been restraining for the past weeks.

“You like that?” He chuckles breathlessly, pulling back slightly to reach between you two and massage your clit, and you nod with a whimper, rolling your hips against his. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Me too,” You breathe, and he’s so surprised he almost fucks up his rhythm, sending you shifting back on the sink with a particularly powerful thrust. “Fuck—”

“Sorry, I’m—I can’t,” He moans, pressing his fingers against your clit harder and angling his hips so he can drive his cock into the spot that makes you roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“Mark, please, I’m gonna—” You gasp, and he nods, kissing you again to silence your moans as you both climax, your walls tightening around his length almost painfully as he pumps spurt after spurt of cum into you. He presses kiss after kiss to your lips, the corners of your mouth, your cheeks—anywhere he can reasonably reach.

He pulls out of you carefully, his chest heaving as he catches his breath and tucks himself back into his clothing. The air is thick and silent as Mark starts to spiral; are you coming to your senses? Experiencing some sort of post-nut clarity? Are you about to tell him you two can never be together and that he’s ruined everything—

“Wanna get food and watch a movie at my place?” You ask, turning around to face him. You’ve adjusted your top back into place and are in the process of zipping and buttoning your jeans.

“Y-Yeah.” Mark mumbles, half-dazed, half-relieved.

“Great! C’mon.” You say with a smile, washing your hands and leaning against the door as he does the same. When he’s finished, you take his hand and open the bathroom door, ignoring the stares you two garner as you leave. As you lead Mark through the party, he can’t help but hope things stay this comfortable even in the morning. 

sunday.

When Mark wakes up on Sunday, his mouth is drier than he ever remembers it being, his head feels like someone’s drumming on his temples, and he can barely get his wits about him quickly enough to take in his surroundings. All Mark knows right now is that there’s sunlight streaming in from the window beside the bed he’s lying in, he is not in his bed, and the person lying beside him is still asleep—

Hold on.

Mark turns his head carefully, lifting off of the pillow to look beside him so he doesn’t make any noise at all, and—it’s you.

At the sight of your sleeping frame, your back to him, Mark feels himself go limp with relief—well—almost everything on him goes limp, but one thing remains very, very…stiff.

Mark is now trying to piece together everything that happened last night, and the realization of what exactly went down hits him like a freight train, damn near knocking the wind out of his lungs in an involuntarily sucked-in breath.

Flashes of the night before start to run through his mind; his hands on your cheeks, your waist, your breasts, grabbing at your hips, his lips following the trail blazed by his lustful fingertips, the way your mouth felt wrapped around him—his cock—nestled deep in your folds—how tight you were, the pretty sounds you made—

Mark remembers damn near everything, but he can’t remember how it ended. Did you hate him for taking that forward step? Did he fuck up the relationship between you two? Did his lust get the best of him and potentially cost him his best friend?

“You really are so in your head, Mark.” Your sleepy voice remarks softly, fondness and amusement audible even past your just-woken croakiness, and hope fills Mark’s chest as he turns his head towards you. You’re now facing him—Mark wonders when you did that without him hearing, but figures he was so distracted by his thoughts that he must not have noticed—and smiling sweetly, tired eyes twinkling nevertheless, and Mark thinks it’s insane that you’re every bit as lovely when you’ve just woken up as you always are—maybe even more so. “Good morning,” You greet with a small chuckle.

“Morning,” Mark mumbles, his thoughts still racing. “Did—last night, did I—was that a bad idea—?”

“I’m happy,” You cut him off pointedly with a wider smile than before as you stretch your limbs, a small groan escaping you as you relax again. You look over at Mark and raise your eyebrows in question. “Are you happy?”

“I’m fuckin’ thrilled.” Mark rushes to get the words out, feeling like he can’t reassure you quickly enough, and your eyes scan his face before you laugh, and the sound is so free, so void of worry, stress, concern—

You’re not stressed in the slightest, so maybe Mark doesn’t have anything to worry about.

“I like you here with me like this,” You muse lightly, looking over at Mark with warm eyes. He’s about to speak, but you continue, “in my bed.”

“Yeah?” Mark can barely get the word out alongside his exhale of immense relief, but you hear it, as you always do.

“Mm, yeah,” You hum, and he nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know what else?”

“What else?” Mark’s relaxed considerably, smile morphing to a small smirk as he parrots your cadence back at you playfully. You don’t say anything for a moment, and he looks over at you curiously to see that you’ve propped your head up on your hand, elbow resting on the mattress. There’s a playful glint in your eyes, mischievous, even, and Mark’s a little bit lost, but your happiness is infectious.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

It’s Sunday morning—or afternoon…Mark hasn’t figured that part out—and Mark feels like something’s clicked into place, and, when he looks at you, he knows you feel the same way.

i hope you enjoyed! donations are not required but appreciated 💖

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#mark lee #nct #fic rec #this was so 🫠🫠🫠

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

Crush culture - Teaser

You don't hate per say couples, they are just delusional idiots that believe an abstract creation of society is actually an emotion (read : love) that they could share together for the rest of their life. You know better than fall for it.

-

"Y/n ! Truth or dare ?" Jungwoo asked with a grin.

"Truth," you answered after chugging down the rest of your beer.

"Who's your crush ?" Jungwoo inquired mischievously.

All your friends looked at you and then tried to hide their giggles.

You scoffed, displaying a smug smile. He thought he got you there.

"Crush culture makes me want to spill my guts out."

Jaehyun rose his head, intrigued.

_____________________________

soon to be released,

a crush culture by conan gray inspired fic

taglist :

#writting #crush culture #teaser #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun #nct

[ncity-carrotcity-tancity]

not a single dandelion ; johnny suh

pairing: johnny suh x fem! reader genre: childhood best friends to lovers ; fluff, a hint of angst, coming of age word count: 5k listen to: dandelions - ruth b. warnings: mentions of alcohol and partying a/n: happy bday vicky, i love you <3 this is my little gift haha @delicatewerewolfsoul

johnny suh has always been your whole entire sun, moon and all of the stars above. wishing for his feelings to finally be reciprocated is no use as you repeat the same ritual every year - not a single dandelion is on your side when you ask the solemn question and blow on the seeds, watching them fly away with your passing youth. years go by, yet, the question is still the same- does johnny suh finally love you back?

i.i THE SUN

Fifteen and in love for the first time, heart hurting and your eyes full of tears; you don’t think you’ll ever stop crying. Frankly speaking, you think your life is ruined just as much as your self-esteem is. The ache in your insides is physically wrenching with your soul, making you feel like you lost a piece of yourself in the flowing wind, when a figure dressed in casual clothes holds your hand to stop your movement, and crouches in front of you. Curiously watching your best friend, you realize he’s tying your shoelaces, precise movements turning the white fabric into a knot.

You haven’t even noticed your shoelace getting undone. Everything around you goes by like a blur– your shoes are the last things you care about when your heart aches so much. You’re only fifteen and you feel like your whole world is ending.

Once he’s done, he taps your ankle just the slightest– take it as a small act of encouragement. He stands up and walks alongside you again, leading you to somewhere and nowhere at all. Perhaps the heated streets are meant to distract you from your heartbreak. You don’t think it’s working quite well.

“Will you beat him up for me?” you ask, sniffling a laugh when he shakes his head in disbelief and hugs you around the shoulders.

“I mean… I wasn’t really planning on doing that, but if you really want me to, I guess I could make an exception…” he says, a joking manner filling up his voice as he stares at the crown of your head from above, ruffling your hair, “he’ll catch those hands for ever messing with my amazing best friend.”

“He deserves his ass kicked. I waited for an hour, Johnny. An hour,” you sniffle, shaking your head. Getting stood up on your date– your first date, to be exact, is nothing a girl wants to go through when she’s fifteen and so, so in love. “He said he’d call. But he never did and then- then he-”

“I know, I know,” he cuts you off, not wanting you to cry harder, because just the hint of you choking on your words is a big, fat red exclamation mark.

Johnny didn’t want to be unnecessarily annoying and ramble about how he told you so, because realistically speaking, he was the first and only one that kept telling you just how much of an asshole your newest crush is. He’s been trying to change your mind about the accepted date invitation to the last minute; but the noisy jab stays locked in his mouth, unspoken, as he hears another one of your sniffles, sighing.

“You were right,” you mumble. Here we go, then, he thinks- it’s good to know you finally acknowledge his good eye for people. He always wants what’s the best for you, right? You should’ve just trusted his opinion.

“Well,” he starts, the urge to rub it in your face instantly gone when he sees your glossy eyes staring at him from under his chin, “at least you tried. It’s okay, because you never really know unless you don’t try. Who knows, I could have been wrong and he could have been a really good guy for you. But still, you can learn from this, and that’s important.”

You hum in agreement, feeling his hand rubbing the crown of your head- efficiently messing up your hair in the process– which is something you hate with burning passion, but won’t mention right now. You watch him as he quickly strides off into the distance and makes you wait at the corner of the street. People passing you by make the whole wait even more embarrassing, as you’re sure you have mascara running down your cheeks and you look like you just went through the worst break-up of your life, but the presence of your best friend is once again your comfort as his tall figure shields you from the crowd and nudges an ice cream cone into your hand a few minutes later.

Feeling electricity run through your veins at the contact, meeting Johnny’s eyes and smiling; the world suddenly feels more cheerful than before. You’re not sure if it’s the ice cream on your tongue or the encouraging smile of your best friend in front of you, but you decide you want a boy like Johnny in your life.

A boy that would wipe away your tears and cheer you up when you need it the most. A boy that would go meet you immediately when you call him– no excuses and broken promises.

What you don’t realize at that very moment, though, is that if you want a boy exactly like Johnny, the only option is… Johnny. Because no one could quite beat him.

i.ii maybe it's the way you play your game

Sitting in a field of yellow, the dandelions around you almost blind you with their glowing rey. The sun shining down on you feels hot on your skin, falling to your body with heated kisses to your shoulders. You don’t even notice the sweat forming on your forehead, not even the shade under the big maple tree not serving you any help; you’re too busy typing away on your phone to realize that your best friend is peering at your screen over your shoulder.

“Who are you texting? I think I just saw a heart emoji,” he says, quirking up a questioning eyebrow at you as you sit a little further away from him, locking your phone so he doesn’t see. You throw a subtle glare at him for not giving you privacy, but wipe that frown away from your face as soon as you meet his eyes.

“No one,” you dote, peeping like a scared mouse. Something inside of you lights up like a fuel when you think your best friend might just be jealous of the one you’re sending yellow hearts to in your whatsapp chat. The ray of sunshine on your skin feels even hotter as your skin burns up with the thought of the message he almost read on your phone screen– not that you care about Mark from your Biology class that much, he’s just your friend you met through a shared project, after all.

“Because I don’t wanna see you texting that asshole from before,” he says, clicking his tongue, “you better not be wasting time on idiots, or else I’ll really whip out the good old ‘told you so’ when I drag you home crying the next time,” the tone of his voice is almost scolding, looking after you like any good friend would while instantly blowing down the happy bubble you had around your brain when you thought it’s going somewhere where it’s, obviously, not.

Johnny Suh could never be jealous of a boy you’re texting– he just wants to see you smile.

“It was just Mark anyway,” you say, sighing, “so you don’t have to worry,” you complete, tone of voice almost defeated, as if you were missing out on something you so dearly desired.

“Say hi to him from me,” he grins, “he should tag along some time. You two seem close.”

Johnny Suh could never be jealous. Not of Mark anyway– that boy is too kindhearted to ever break your heart. The two of them are in the same classes and you hang out with him every time Johnny doesn’t have time. Maybe you should have chosen a different name to see his reaction…

“Hmm,” you nod, “maybe one day.”

He puts his head on your shoulder, gazing off into the distance. “Do you still want me to kick the ass of that guy that broke your heart all those weeks ago?” he asks, voice soft and playful.

The irony of your feelings settling for someone else– someone so close to you he doesn’t even notice it in the first place, makes you chuckle. It’s kind of funny how those feelings you had for Yoon Jonghan from your English class are now so carefully thrown onto another person– you almost forgot how he stood you up for another girl last month. You’re only 15 and foolish. You’ll have time to regret it later.

“I’m over it already, don’t worry,” you mutter, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Hmm,” he hums, picking a single yellow dandelion from the grass to his right, twirling it between his fingers and offering it to you. Your eyes meet as he smiles when you take the flower into your hand and play with it the same way he did a few seconds ago. “Good. You should only settle for a guy that treats you just as right as I do, okay?”

With a weird feeling in your stomach, you only nod, scoffing. “Of course.”

ii.i THE MOON

Looking at the moon shining down on you, you sit at the front porch of your house only a few hours before the midnight. The lonely luna reminds you of the dandelion calmly resting in your hand; its head now white, as if it has grown old and it was its time to leave. A legend says that if you blow on a white dandelion head and all of the seeds scatter away, then you are well loved by the one that your heart desires. If some of the seeds still cling to the stalk, then your loved one has reservations about the feelings that you feel. You always found this legend at least a little romantic, yet, you never had the courage to try it out yourself. The fear of disappointment is bigger than the thrill.

Sighing, shaking your head and looking down at the flower in your hand, you decide to blow on it for the first time in your life– but something inside of you already knows that it’s gonna say exactly the opposite of what you want anyway. Taking a shaky breath in, you close your eyes and blow on the sad flower in the dark, silently repeating four words in your head that somehow remind you of a curse like a broken mantra; please love me back, please love me back, please love me back…

You almost don’t open your eyes in fear of what you’re going to see. You do it anyway, alone and feeling almost nostalgic, looking at the head of the dandelion being almost empty– but still carrying a few lost seeds. They laugh you in the face, making fun of you and your feelings for your best friend. You realize it’s perhaps a little silly, but it feels as if your heart was being taken out of your chest, as if all the years you’ve spent together were all a funny lie.

Johnny Suh could never love you back– and you can’t blame him. He’s seen you at your worst, after all. He saw you when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone at your freshman prom, the heel of your shoe breaking as you fell face first to the ground in the spacious auditorium. He saw you crying so much that snot was running down your nose when your childhood cat ran away, he saw you when you were anxious so much to the point you’d bitten your nails to blood, hissing at the pain when he tried to hold your hand to calm you down.

There’s no way he could have loved you after all of that. He’s smart. He wouldn’t put himself through that much trouble.

The few, lonely seeds sitting at the white head of the dandelion remind you of the loneliness you feel inside. Johnny isn’t sitting by your side like he always used to be during those sad nights, talking your feelings out and making sure you fall asleep soundly after he leaves. He’s not there to hold you tight when you complain about your mother and cry about missed assignments anymore.

You’re eighteen and you feel like your whole world is ending.

Johnny doesn’t love you back– and it’s no surprise, really. And how could you ever think he would? Silly you. Wishing on a dandelion while he’s on a date with another girl.

ii.ii I've never dreamed of nobody like you

Laying in your bed, nose stuffed and the medicine left on your bedside table. This is how Johnny finds you after the whole day, making sure you are okay. College is a difficult time, and while you had your mum to take care of you when you were sick while you lived back home, your college dorms are just too far away for her to know if you have a fever or if you need warm soup.

That’s when Johnny comes in– being the human personification of your guardian angel, or so it seems.

Your best friend was always one of the caring ones. While he made sure to laugh at your weirdly sounding sneezes the whole day and fakely gagged when he had to throw out your wet tissues to your trash can at the other side of the small room, you knew he did it all with love. And maybe a little bit of salt– and you don’t blame him, the snot-covered tissues really aren’t the best thing to touch after two long Business lectures, but that’s what he gets for caring so much.

“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumble, staring at him with glossy eyes. You’re too tired to try to hide the lovesick gaze filling your orbs, but he is too oblivious to notice it anyway. You’ve noticed that after long years of yearning, and while everyone else around you knew that you were pretty much in love with your best friend, he himself, although he claimed to be smart, never figured it out.

“Anything for you,” he says matter-of-factly, putting on his warmest jacket and going over to your bed to flick your forehead, prepared to leave and get some sleep. It’s late, after all, and he can’t sleep over in your dorm room. “You’re like my sister, after all.”

A low snicker leaves your mouth at that, nodding. “Yeah. Exactly.”

You watch the man leave your room, completely unaware of how much his words affected your poor, small heart. You’re twenty now. It’s been years.

Maybe you should finally move on.

ii.iii I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

Not a single dandelion is able to make him love you back. No matter how much you blow on it and wish to find the seeds flying away with the wind, leaving you with an empty stem in your hands, they just keep on sticking to the very top, the white head reminding you of the moon you watch on dark evenings like these, when everything seems so okay, but so messed up at the same time.

“What do you wanna listen to?” he asks you, playing with the radio of his car with one hand and driving with the other, but still paying attention to the road.

“Anything. I don’t care,” you mumble, watching the scenery behind the windows change in the dark. The lampposts blur your vision as you pass them by and let reality take you away into another world. It’s been a long, stressful week at college and while you only wanted to sleep, Johnny took it upon himself to take you out somewhere to destress first.

The speakers suddenly play your favorite song, a hint of a smile creeping up your cheeks when you realize Johnny purposely played a tune so dear to your heart, even though he made sure to tease you how you only listen to underground artists to seem cool in front of the campus kids when you showed him your new favorite song the other day.

Driving through a tunnel, there’s a hint of orange sitting on his cheeks that almost makes you want to reach over and take his face into your hands, examining the features you know by heart by now. How could you not– you dream of them almost every night. Sometimes, you wish you wouldn’t wake up. You like it better there, with him.

“Is it far?” you ask, snapping back to reality. “I’m bored,” you say, hearing him snicker.

“I even put your favorite music on! Stop being a baby and just trust the process,” he says, rolling his eyes at you and playfully slapping your thigh, making you laugh.

His touch on your skin remains.

The car finally gets to its final destination. A starry hill away from the city invites you to its silence, the chaos and the stress long forgotten as you stare at all the faceless homes under you. Getting out of the car and sitting on the trunk, you feel your best friend’s presence appearing when he takes his place next to you and leans on his own car. It’s beaten-up and old– it’s second hand, so no wonder, but it’s enough for him. He’s a broke college student, there’s only so much he can afford with the money he gets from his work at the nearby café. You would even say the car suits him. You always thought Johnny had kind of an old soul.

Or perhaps, he was always just the more mature one between the two of you.

“Is this where you take all your dates nowadays?” you joke, looking at him in the moonlight. The white glow on his skin makes his features stand out, his eyes gleam with broken galaxies in them. You could stare at him for hours and you wouldn’t ever get bored.

You don’t think he ever looked more beautiful.

A smirk appears on his face, almost mocking you for your noisy question. You don’t think he knows the real reason behind it, though– he’s unaware of your hidden jealousy and bitterness that coats your heart any time you see a girl from your campus tag his account on her Instagram story late at night, when you study for your exams in your dorm room.

He shakes his head, playfully nudging you with his hip.

“Only the best ones.”

iii.i THE STARS

You feel fingers drumming against the skin of your naked calf, the casual rhythm almost lullying you to sleep. A quiet hum escapes Johnny’s mouth as he carries you home on his back, your hands snuggly wrapped around his neck. Your heels are in your grasp and you are pretty sure you feel your purse bumping you into your asscheeks as it’s carelessly thrown over your neck and out of the way.

“Parties aren’t good for you, honey. Maybe you shouldn’t go again,” he mumbles when he halts in his steps and secures you on his back, hostling you higher. His steady steps show that you’re not as heavy as you sometimes think you are– or maybe he’s just strong. Who knows… (judging by the time he spends at the gym, you think it must be the second option. Oh well…)

“But I like to party,” you mumble, pouting. Another sigh escapes the man’s lips as he shakes his head in disbelief, his soft hair tickling your cheek when you settle your head into the crook of his neck from behind.

“But you’re bad at handling alcohol, sweetie. One day, you’ll puke on that guy’s white cashmere carpet in the living room and he’ll have you pay for it. And do you want that? Hm?” he asks, the scolding tone ever so present in his voice. It reminds you of the time when he talked to you about dating bad guys and getting lied to by rude girls in middle school. It’s like looking out for you, but acting just a little bit like your dad by making you look out for yourself so it doesn’t happen again.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not cashmere, Johnny…” you doze off, making him huff under you.

“Well, who cares. I bet it’s expensive. And you’re broke,” he emphasizes, making a breathy chuckle leave your mouth. If you really think about it, he’s right. He always is…

“Okay, fine… I won’t- I won’t drink again,” you hiccup, yawning, “but it’s nice to get piggy back rides home from you from time to time,” you grin, a teasing tone seeping through your words.

“If you really wanted me to carry you around, you could have just asked,” he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “you don’t have to ruin your liver for that, honey.”

“Don’t call me honey,” you pout. Johnny is big on nicknames. If it’s anything close to being a little cringey, he absolutely adores to call you that. You’ve learned to get used to sugarbum, sweetie-pie and sexy pants over time, but that’s when you’re sober. When you’re under the influence of alcohol, you can’t quite control your emotions that well.

“Why?” he asks with the same amount of pout in his voice, making you giggle.

“Because- oh look at that!” you gasp in the middle of your sentence, making your companion jump up a little when you shriek into his ear.

“What?”

“There!” you point your finger into the distance, the area under the lamppost illuminating the short grass. Your heels dangle from your hand when Johnny brings your arm lower so you don’t poke out his eye with your shoe.

You can almost hear the confusion in his voice. “What is there?”

“The dandelion!” you yell out, so excited it’s almost concerning. “Pick it for me?” you pout.

And Johnny does just that– he crouches a little with an over-exaggerated sigh, of course, and picks up the lonely white dandelion under the lamp. Once he brings it to your hand and finds you twirling it around in your grasp, he only scoffs as he puts you down– much to your dismay, because you’re bare-foot and drunk, to take out the keys from your purse and unlocks the front door of your apartment complex.

You haven’t even noticed you were home.

When the door is open, he wastes no time in holding you by your hand and walking you inside. The ride up the elevator passes by like a dream when he drops you off in front of your flat, brushing your hair back with his fingers.

“Drink some water and sleep on your side, okay?” he orders, seeing you nod. It’s not the first time you’ve been drunk– and while you can’t quite walk straight, Johnny knows you can take care of yourself well once you’re home safe and sound.

“Good night sweetie,” he smiles. He’s almost back in the elevator, ready to go back down, when you reach for his hand and stop him.

“Hm?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

You open your mouth and bring the dandelion in front of your lips, blowing on it. Johnny watches you with a soft look in his eyes, your own eyes closed shut as you repeat the same four words in your brain since you were fifteen. Opening your eyes, you squint to see the dandelion almost empty.

Still, there’s a single white seed sitting soundly on top of your dandelion, making your wish unfulfilled.

“Sleep well,” he smiles, reaching over and planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

Watching him leave, you sigh. It’s okay. You’ll try again next time.

iii.ii and I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

It’s been ages since you were back in the town where you grew up in. The flowers around you smell like your childhood and make you smile when you feel the familiar caress of the sun on your shoulders. You just graduated, deciding to spend a few months back at home before you look for a job somewhere else. It’s not that you hate your hometown– you just like the idea of a big city where you could get lost in much better.

The field of dandelions reminds you of Johnny. Even now, he’s sitting next to you. Never once did you lose him in the journey of growing up. He’s always been by your side.

Maybe that’s what’s so hard about letting you move on. Once you think you finally have the courage to let your feelings go, you look at him and feel the same comfort you always have.

That’s the thing– loving Johnny is easy. However tragic it may sound, you never once regretted it. Your heart chose him when you were 15 and you never once scolded it for settling on your best friend. If you could have a re-do, you’d do everything just the same so you could end up with him here, like this. You’re okay with the idea of just loving him, no strings attached, no hard feelings, no heartbreak and no regrets.

His eyes are gently closed in the sunlight, the maple tree over the two of you shielding him just the slightest. You think he’s taking a nap. A smile creeps onto your cheeks as you watch his frown slowly go away, the curve of his lips reminding you of a curious cat. His eyelashes kiss his cheekbones. You think he feels you staring at him– he shifts just a little, finding a better spot in the grass. Sighing, you turn to look around.

You’re both adults now. But your lives are just as intertwined as the roots of the tree above you.

Finding a lost dandelion only a few meters to your left, you can’t hold yourself back. Picking the flower, you twirl it in between your fingers. It reminds you of your youth. Somewhere along the way, it became your favorite flower– it’s always been your closest companion, after all.

The smiling yellow dandelion was with you on sunny days of summer. The white, puffy dandelions were always with you in late summer, scattered all around the fields and parks at your college campus. You could perhaps say that the flower is quite celestial– the yellow head representing the sun, the white one the moon, and the seeds scattering in the wind are the stars lonely sitting in the darkness of the night.

You could call Johnny everything and that. Your sun, moon, and all the stars above. He’s your everything. Maybe you’re just a little cliche.

It’s alright. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

Opening your mouth and closing your eyes shut, you try for the last time. You tell yourself that you’re old enough now to stop dreaming– old enough to stop wishing on a hopeless flower in the dandelion field. A weak spark of hope lights itself up in your insides when you blow on it, but it dies a few seconds later, when a frown finds its way back onto your face after you open your eyes and find the white seeds all sitting on the stem, peaceful as ever.

“Why do you rely on that flower so much anyway?” Johnny suddenly asks from beside you, startling you.

Shrugging, you reply. “I don’t know. It’s just something that stayed with me from childhood. If the seeds all fly away, the one I love loves me back. And if they don’t…” you trail off, feeling a little silly.

“Hmm,” he hums, sitting up beside you and glancing at your face. You suddenly feel shy, already knowing what he’ll ask next.

“And who is it that you love?”

“Well…” you chuckle, averting his gaze. You feel your cheeks heating up from shyness, chewing on your bottom lip. You could lie to him and say just whoever. Or you could perhaps say you don’t love anyone– that’s why the seeds always stay on top of the stem, laughing in your face. Or you could… you could just tell him the truth. And own up to it, after all those years.

“You,” you peep, glancing at him from under your eyelashes. Your whole posture is stern, frozen in its place despite the warmness of the sun shining down on your face. Waiting for him to reject you, you grow weak, almost letting the flower fall onto the ground, when your best friend catches it and grins.

Opening his mouth and blowing on it as hard as he can, you watch all the seeds scatter away like shooting stars. Johnny then shrugs, throwing the empty stem to the grass next to him.

“Well, the flower confirmed it, so I have to trust you now…” he teases, making you roll your eyes and playfully nudge him with your foot.

“Oh, shut up-”

“And since it’s stubborn and doesn’t want you to know when you try it, you’ll just have to trust me when I tell you that I love you back,” he shrugs, the nonchalance of him almost making his confession fly over your head.

“Johnny-”

“What? Not what you wanted to hear?” he asks, his grin only widening. “Well, if you don’t trust me, I’m ready to find even a hundred of those stupid dandelions and you better blow hard enough to make the seeds fly away, okay?” he says, standing up from his position and gazing into the dandelion field, eyes scattering to find some to bring to you.

“Johnny…” you grin and shake your head in disbelief, tugging him down by his hand and smiling at his face.

And when you watch him observe you so lovingly, the glint in his eye just as playful as when you were both fifteen, you realize one thing– he always had you, and you always had him.

Not a single dandelion could make your love go away.

#fic rec