#( i rly wanted to answer that before going to bed )

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

sugar daddy cillian or robert fischer pls i beggg !!

THIS IS SO!!! had me sweatin writing this fr… also this got rly long by accident and i kinda underutilized the sugar daddy part, i apologize😓

warnings. daddy kink, anal sex, mildly dd/lg, au!cillian (divorced, again not to be disrespectful it’s just to be convenient)

“D’you like it?” Cillian asked, sneaking up behind you in front of the mirror and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You giggled, “You know I like anything you pick out for me, daddy.” He’d bought an expensive pink silky lingerie set for you, skimpy and revealing but with soft cream ruffles and strategically placed bows that made you look like a little angel — his little angel, he’d so often remind you — and you tried it on for him as soon as you got home.

He chuckled deeply, pressing kisses into the crook of your neck, “I know, I know… you’re a good girl like that, aren’t you? Always wantin’ t’please.”

You grinned sweetly, tilting your head to the side to allow further access to your neck as Cillian’s kissing and nipping grew rougher. “Only ‘cause you spoil me so much.”

Cillian’s grip tightened around you, making the seam of your ass press flush against his clothed cock, which you vaguely felt hardened and pulse at the feeling of your sweet ass. “Gotta spoil m’girl, don’t I? What kinda daddy would I be if I didn’t…” he hummed, trailing off as his hands seemed to form a consciousness of their own, sneaking into the waistband of your new panties. 

His fingers seemed to graze everywhere but where you needed him most, kneading at the flesh of your ass, imprinting his fingernail marks into the skin of your hips— even fucking petting your mound, but not at all going lower. 

“Please, daddy?” you begged with a whimper, your thighs clenching on instinct. 

“I’ll only touch your other hole, angel. You’re not on anythin’ right now.” He chastised, pulling away from you completely and sitting on the edge of your bed.

“We could use a condom,” you insisted weakly, despite knowing his answer anyway. 

“No,” Cillian shook his head, “you know daddy’ll only come raw.”

You pouted, taking gentle steps and sitting on your plush mattress beside him. Here was the crux of the matter: you ran out of your birth control a few weeks ago and couldn’t get your doctor to prescribe it again — y’know, just tedious medical bullshit — and with Cillian’s existing children, the divorce, your paid arrangement… let’s just say, it’d be the terrible cherry on top if he got you knocked up. 

You hadn’t had his cock in you at all, and since running out of your pills it’d just been other stuff, like head or fingering or very, very rough nipple play— all good stuff, just not enough stuff. You wanted him to fill you up, stuff your cunt to the brim with his thick length, but he refused. 

He did, however, offer up the alternative: anal, to which you shook your head and shuddered— you’d never done it before, and if your friends' experiences were anything to go by, you didn’t want to. They always said it was too harsh, that it hurt and he’d stretch your hole too painfully, that you wouldn’t be able to sit properly for days after.

But by now… you were going stir fucking crazy. It felt like one long game of edging, ‘cept there wasn’t going to be an end ‘till you got back on birth control, which could be in months from now. You missed his delicious cock so much, the sweet curve that tickled your cervix just right, the veins that rubbed your walls like he’d stuck his tongue right in you…

You bit your lip, peering into his soft blue eyes, before sighing. “Okay… you can - put it in my other hole,” you whispered nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

You didn’t miss the way Cillian brightened, how his body relaxed with relief at your long-awaited agreement. “Good girl,” he praised, pushing you onto your stomach lightly, petting your hair out of your face. 

He then dragged your panties down slowly, hands splaying across your ass cheeks and humming satisfactorily at the wetness your cunt had been collecting. You were sopping, your sweet liquid smearing against your lips and dirtying your soft, supple thighs. 

You flushed at his intense staring, pressing your face deeper into your baby pink sheets, feeling every bit the little girl Cillian told you you were, getting ready to be fucked in the ass in your overtly feminine bedroom. You heard him fumble with his jeans, before letting out a sharp gasp when two of his fingers dipped into your cunt, swirling around your hole for a pleasure-filled moment and then coating your puckered asshole with the juice. 

“Don’t be scared, my sweet girl,” he soothed softly, lightly toying with the rim of your hole, a finger or two able to comfortably press in. “I’ll be gentle.”

Then, Cillian lined up his thick head with your hole, inhaling sharply as he pushed in. A pained whimper left your throat at the painful stretch, and he cooed, lightly spitting onto your ass to moisten the area up more. “So fuckin’ tight,” he groaned jiltedly, unable to keep in his audible pleasure despite the way you writhed. 

You breathed in and out shakily, incredibly glad that Cillian had stopped for a moment to let your tense hole readjust to his thickness. You could see clearly how your friends’ protests were based in fact — but you could also feel that familiar heat building into your stomach, the insatiable little monster in you acting up ‘cause Cillian had you wrenched on his cock. 

“Can I move?” He asked breathlessly a short bit later, cock swelling when your hole clenched at his words. 

“Ah… uh-huh,” you responded weakly, spreading your legs more, as if it would help lessen the sting. It didn’t do much, other than spur Cillian’s hungry appetite more, but the effort was appreciated at least mentally. 

“Fuck,” he cursed when he pulled out then slid back in, a measly few seconds interval between the two actions. It was so quick it made your head spin and your insides burn, but he noticed this rather quickly and massaged your hips with his fingers gently. 

“I’m sorry, angel,” he apologized, “just need y’so bad. Haven’t had you in so long.”

You blinked blearily, shaking your head. “N-no, don’t be… I’ll… I’ll be a better angel for daddy.”

He smiled, pressing a wet kiss to your ass cheek, “Thank you, my sweet.” Then, he pulled out again - slower, thankfully - and then pressed back in. He gathered a good pace: not too fast, not too slow, and the pain that you’d felt taking you over scarily dripped away into a pleasure you’d never felt before. 

His cock just felt so much bigger in your ass, and it was already plenty for your cunt. “God, I love your little holes,” he wheezed out, and your back arched, your first moan slipping out of you that night. 

Cillian grinned. “Such cute noises, all for this cock in your tight ass.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but were cut off by your second sound: a wet mewl as his balls brushed past your puffy clit. Your head was swimming with these stranger sensations swirling all over your body, the weird, out of place knot stirring in your lower stomach from anal. 

“Oh, baby, you’re so good for me,” Cillian praised, seemingly out of nowhere, but you didn’t have time to be confused when his thrusts got harder, a modicum of the pain you’d felt earlier returning as he forced his cock deeper within your ass. 

You’d realize a little later what he meant, why he fucked you rougher so suddenly: your walls finally relaxed sround his length, pulsing every so often and feeling like it wanted him to have his way with you. 

“Big,” you squeaked out, squirming and gripping your mattress for dear life. He rutted into you carnally, your ass bouncing with every needy push, jaw falling slack when the pads of his fingers cheekily found your clit, rubbing and pressing on it. 

Your sticky, filthy orgasm was sneaky, hiding behind his groans or your shallow intakes of breath, and came out to surprise you when Cillian’s hips jutted right against yours, his cock deeper than he’d ever been in your cunt. Your cunt clenched around nothing, creaming on his balls as you choked out his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“You came on my cock in your ass,” he said, amazed and a hundred percent more turned on, sliding in and out of you hurriedly like if he didn’t climax as quickly as you you’d change your mind about anal and leave him in the dust.

 After another loud moment of fucking, skin slapping on clammy skin, breathy whines falling from your lips, desperate growls out of his, you felt the familiar rush of warmth fill you — in your ass, this time, which was similar and completely different all at once. Like, you certainly felt full, but his load didn’t easily drip out of you like it would’ve in your cunt. 

Cillian released a satisfied sigh, leading his softening cock out of your stretched out asshole delicately, telling you to breathe when his head had to exit and reawaken the terrible initial stretch. 

You were face down into the mattress, ass up in the air directly in Cillian’s eye line, knees pried open, back arched— you were utterly, completely wrecked, fucked out beyond belief at the strange combination of pain and pleasure. Cillian leaned down slightly to suckle on your sensitive clit, the torturing tease, before leaning back slightly and frowning, because his come still didn’t spill out of your tight hole. 

“Push f’me, my sweet girl, let daddy see himself drip out’a you,” he ordered huskily, spreading your ass cheeks wide with his large hands. 

You pushed once, and sighed tiredly, feeling his come slowly slide out of your spent hole. It was wet, warm, and thick, coating your cunt’s outer lips lightly.

“That’s a good girl,” he patted the small of your back sweetly, then turned you over to your side to face him. “Now, baby, because you’ve been so good, what do you say about going to Paris? We’ll get those pretty red-bottoms for you, and the sweet Chanel dress too…”

#burnyouwithacigarettelighter #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy rpf #cillian murphy

[nokkihy]

DISENGAGED

WARNINGS; angst, cussing, emotional unavailable (correct me if im wrong pls i cant rly tell thank you 🙏🏾) miles, miles and reader can drive!!!

PAIRINGS; miles42 x black!fem reader

AUTHORS NOTE; first time writing angst in a while 🤞🏾

miles has had a hard time expressing his feelings to you since you could remember. you were best friends before dating, and you still couldn’t get miles to crack at all. not one word, not one reaction to your words. you understood, it was too early in your relationship. you and miles had been dating for nearly 2 years, 7 years as friends.

‘its just too early.’ you would tell yourself everytime miles would avoid talking to you about his feelings. you were just barely scraping by in your relationship now, and on top of that miles had prowler business so he would always be missing out on dates or not texting you back for hours on end.

y/n

miles, wya?

you standing outside the arcade, the arcade the two of you would go to as kid and have the time of your life. you nervously tapped your foot on the pavement infront of the building and moved your hair as it blew in your face.

…

your heart picks up as you see the three grey bubbles appear on your screen, waiting for miles messages.

..nothing. the bubbles disappeared, and you sigh, shaking your head and walking to your car. you open the door and just sit in the drivers seat, laying your head on the steering wheel. a high pitched ding comes from your phone a few minutes later and you check it, seeing miles’ contact name come up.

miles 🧍🏽‍♀️💜

wonmakeitsrry

read at 8:59

you felt like screaming as you read the message. this is the 3rd time he’s cancelled on you last minute this week, and this was a date he planned. you just read the text over and over again, getting even more frustrated by the rushed message typed all in one word and a half assed apology. fucking unbelievable.

you toss your phone on the passenger seat and buckle up, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to your house, not bothered to even play music because of your bad mood.

when you pull up to the curb you park and get all of your things, getting out of the car and locking the door. you get your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door, taking your shoes off and walking into your room, not wanting to bother your parents or siblings with your early arrival.

you’re slumped on your bed, reading back over all of your text messages of this past week with all of the canceled dates and dry text messages from miles.

2 days ago

y/n

you still coming to the bowling alley? i already got the food ordered and your shoes 😋

miles 🧍🏽‍♀️💜

prowler buisness. wont be there.

y/n

oh, ok

read

4 days ago

miles 🧍🏽‍♀️💜

wont make it to dinner.

read

you groan, sick of seeing how miles would ditch you last minute for his prowler business or would just cancel for no reason. you remember for dinner you got all dressed up, made reservations for a restaurant thats hard to get into, wearing a purple because you know it was his favorite color, just for him to text you that he wasn’t coming as you pulled into the parking lot.

‘hes just busy. it’s fine.’ you told yourself as you pull out of the parking lot again, driving back home without thinking anything of it.

you were sick of it. sick of him ditching you, apologizing, and doing the same thing over again. you closed your phone and got up, putting on pajamas and a bonnet, heading to sleep.

an hour later, you were awakened by a knocking on your window. who the hell was at your window at 10pm? you roll over to face it, seeing none other than your boyfriend miles, wearing pajama pants and the black brooklyn hoodie you got him for his birthday as he looked at your from his spot out the window.

“what are you doing here?” miles ignores your question and walks through your window when you open it, sitting on your bed.

“hello? are you gonna answer or just ignore me after letting yourself into my house?” you ask, a hint of attitude in your voice that miles picks up, looking you up and down.

“watch that attitude f’me, ma.” he says, finally making eye contact with you and giving you a challenging look.

“so thats the first thing you wanna say to me after canceling for the 3rd time this week? nah, dont come into my house with that shit, miles.” you spat back, holding back all the frustration that you have pent up so you dont lash out on miles. he sighs, looking over to the side and standing up.

“we’ve talked about this already and i’ve apologized, can we just forget it?” he takes your hands in his and looking into your eyes. you scoff, shaking your head and taking your hands away from miles’.

“’m not just gonna forget about this shit, miles! you cant just expect me to keep coming back when you’re about you shutting me out and blowing me off all the time. im trying really hard to make this work and its like you dont care. please, miles. just let me it.” you’re basically on the verge of begging as you finish talking, not able to even make eye contact with miles. because if you do, you know you’ll end up sobbing in his arms.

“y/n, i just.. can’t. i can’t.” he says, looking down at the floor and blinking, so many thoughts running through his head. he doesn’t wanna lose you. he knows he just cant quit being the prowler, but he knows that if he keeps doing it, he’s gonna lose you.

“if you can’t tell me, im gone miles. i can’t do this anymore.” your voice is breaking up, tears making their way up to make your eyes glossy. you dont wanna do it. you dont wanna lose him; but you know that this whole relationship is just you being hurt over and over again by miles. he doesn’t mean do it, he loves you so much, too much.

its good for the both of you.

“y/n, please. i can’t lose you like this.” he looks up at you, taking a small step towards you in attempt to give you a hug. you step back and his heart shatters into pieces.

“im sorry..” you mutter, tears dropping trom your eyes when you glance up at miles and look at his broken expression as he goes to your window. you look away from him, closing your eyes in effort to stop the tears. but they keep coming and coming. the sound of rushed walking is heard and silence follows afterwards.

you look back over to the window, seeing miles is gone. you close the window, sitting down on your bed and wiping the tears falling from your face. a text dings from your phone and you check it, seeing miles contact name for the second time tonight.

miles 🧍🏽‍♀️💜

im sorry, y/n. im so sorry.

read at 10:29

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #spiderman #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles #black reader #miles morales angst #Spotify

[brooooswriting]

Request:

Vada Cavell x fem!reader - reader went to Vada's bedroom and didnt notice her on her bed (cuz Vada is rly small puppy 🥺 and under big blanket). Because of this, the reader tried to call Vada for the rest of the day to find her, in the end Vada woke up and turned on the phone (before that it was dead battery) and saw that she had a lot of messages and calls, etc. The rest is up to your author's imagination :))

Where were you?!

Vada Cavell x reader

“Vada, come on. This isn’t funny anymore. Answer your damn phone” you grumbled into the microphone of your phone. The call went to mailbox again.

Yesterday evening Vada told you that she would be picking you up at around 11 a.m at your house as you guys wanted to spend the day together. But since yesterday at around 1 a.m where she had told you that she was going to sleep now, no message was able to send. You waited for her for two hours, you called her several times but no answer. Vada was a bit chaotic and very random, that was something everyone knew so you weren’t surprised when she wasn’t at your door at 11 but by the time you decided to stop calling it was 1 p.m. you were getting restless, scared what the reason of her ghosting you might be. So after another half an hour you decided to go to the cavells house.

You walked thru every room, calling Vada nonstop and calling out loudly but with no luck. You didn’t get an answer. You walked through the garden too, but she was nowhere to be found. Where could she be on a Thursday at 3 p.m without telling you?

By now you had even called her family but they also didn’t know where she was. “Sometimes she visits the old lady next door, she turned her phone off when she’s there” Amelia told you, hoping that you’d find her sister there. You didn’t know that if you found Vada there, if you’d find it cute that she was spending time with the old lady or if you were gonna be mad that she forgot about you because of her neighbor. But due to the fact that she’s been nowhere to find for over 4 hours you decided that you’d be happy that she’s fine.

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to ask if Vada is here” you asked the nice old lady as she opened the door. You gave her a bright smile, your eyes twinkling with hope.

“I’m sorry hun, she’s not here” she told you which caused your smile to falter and the hope in your eyes to die. A small sigh escaped your lips while the woman in front of you gave you a small comforting smile. “I’m very sorry” she added hoping to make you feel better but it was no use. After she also denied having seen Vada today you made your way back to the house deciding to call other people.

When you had gotten off the phone with some of vadas friends, her private tutoring, Mia and Nick. Mia was at dance practice and promised to help you search for her as soon as she was done. Nick immediately came over, speed walking through to house but he also couldn’t find her.

“Let’s drive around the neighborhood for a bit? Maybe we’ll find her there” he suggested, unsure of where his best friend might be. “Well find her somewhere” he tried to comfort you, you were clearly freaking out. Who wouldn’t be? She disappeared before your date and now she’s gone and not answering her texts.

“What if this is her way of breaking up with me?” You suddenly asked as you sat in the car, just starring ahead. Your eyes never left the road, while nick quickly looked over to you before focusing back on driving. He was confused, scared that you weren’t telling the whole truth.

“Why? Did you guys have a fight? Y/n I swear to god if-“ he started to ramble but you interrupted him.

“No, we were fine but still. It’s suspicious don’t you think? Just suddenly disappearing, not answering her phone?” Nick had to admit it was weird. Sure Vada was a bit unreliable but never when it came to you. She loved you so this was completely new.

“I don’t think she’d do that” he only mumbled, unsure of what to say.

After another moment of silence your phone rang. ‘Vads🩵’ showing an your screen. She was finally calling. You hurriedly picked up the phone. “Vada? Hello, are you alright?!” You quickly asked as Nick pulled over so he could focus on the dialogue.

The first thing she did was yawn into the phone, “‘m alright. Why?” She asked. You and Nick started at each other in disbelief.

“You haven’t answered your phone since 1 a.m. you were supposed to pick me up at 11 a.m and now it’s 4:30 p.m. where have you been?!” You asked clearly annoyed and anxious, desperately waiting for her answer.

“Oh, I’m at home. I overslept I guess. Forgot to load my phone too” she said nonchalantly, adding a small yawn and a groan signaling that she just stretched. You were squeezing your phone so hard that your knuckles turned white, Nick doing the same thing with the steering wheel as he turned the car around. “So, we still going out?” She asked in a calm tone which made you even more mad.

You only said small bye before hanging up not answering her question. “I can’t believe this girl” you grumbled to the man next to you who called out an amen. “Gosh, I have some people to call before I can talk to her. Her family, her grandparents, Quinton and Mia” you said as you starred at your phone with a frown.

“It’s alright. You go talk to her and kick her ass while I tell everybody that she’s fine alright” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder in an comfortingly manner. You quickly thanked him before exiting the car and running into vadas house.

“Vada” you screamed again, just like hours before but this time you actually got an answer. She exited her bedroom in an oversized hoodie, your hoodie to be exact, and some basketball shorts, her hair was a mess and her face was still sleepy.

“Jeez why are you screaming like that?” She asked as she came to halt in front of you, her hand coming up to her head. Her tone quickly changed when she saw your face, it was a clear mix between anger and something like sadness. You looked like you were about to cry.

“Where the fuck were you? I’ve been searching for you, calling you and your friends, I drive around the city. You were just gone! I thought something had happened to you or you had ghosted me or some shit. And all of that because you were what? Sleeping?!” You screamed at her, pacing around the living room. Vadas shoulders sagged, she did in fact feel bad about what happened.

“Look, im sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’ve just been so tired that I forgot to load my phone and then my alarm didn’t go off because my phones dead” she said and walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders to pull you into her chest. She couldn’t hide the smile that formed on her face as she felt you relax as soon as she hugged you.

“I hate you” you grumbled into her chest before pressing a kiss to the skin there. You had been so scared for her.

“I love you too” Vada grinned and kissed your forehead. There was a moment of silence before your stomach grumbled loudly making both of you laugh.

“This is your fault. You promised to take me out for lunch, I haven’t eaten anything today” you complained, pouting like a child. Vada smiled down at you and kissed you quickly before reaching behind you to grab her car keys.

“Then let’s go, can’t have you starving can we?” She smiled and pulled you with her.

“If you do something like this again I will break up with you and make sure that you’ll never be happy again?” You threatened her seriously making her chuckle nervously.

“Okay, Let’s get you something to eat before you kill me alright?”

That night you decided to sleep over at Vadas. The moment you left the bathroom you realized that Vada was gone again causing you to groan. “Vada?” You called out to hear her grumble under two blankets and like a thousand pillows, you could barely make out her body. “Is this where you’ve been the whole day?” You asked her.

“Yeah, it’s really comfy” she mumbled with her head pressed into the mattress. You grinned before jumping on her body, or the place you guessed her body was, which made her groan out. “That’s what you get for leaving me hanging because of sleep” you smiled as you rolled off of her.

A date with Vada was never boring

#reader insert #brooooswriting #jenna ortega x reader #vada x reader #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #vada cavell x you

[enhafilthandfiction]

Enhypen - when you're on your period

A/N: Helloooo! This wasn't a request but I feel like writing this reaction since I'm currently on my period >:( Ughhh pls send help

Pairing : Bf!Enha X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Blood (obvi), food, crack, mentions of sex in jake's

Word count : 1,361 words (about 150 words each)

Masterlist - Tips

♡ Lee Heeseung ♡

His heart would break seeing you like this

he would immediately notice you got your period, but wouldn't say anything to save you some 'embarrassment'.

He'd act nonchalant and chill, wanting to just chill whilst you were both at home and procrastinating.

"What ya wanna do?" he asks, once you come out of the bathroom for the millionth time. (It felt like that for him)

He'd let you pick whatever you wanna do and gives in, even if you wanted to test your makeup on him or paint his nails 😭

He ain't saying no

You end up watching a movie when the cramps became a little too much, laying on the couch with him behind you, hands wrapped around your waist, but ready to let go of you whenever you need to use the bathroom (again)

Hearing you whimper in pain would pain him as well, gently bringing his hand over to your tummy to rub in circles.

It doesn't really do anything tbh, maybe distract you, but you appreciate him trying 🥺

Later, he'd definitely make you some ramen, insisting that it was the only food that would cure your cramps and upset mood.

Will definitely sing you to sleep, that's why his head voice is so good.

♡ Park Jay ♡

Everyone says this but : MOM MODE ONNNN 🤗😌

Literally won't stop making sure you're good

and he's prob the most chill about it, like its not a big deal at all

he's just very mature

"You sure you have everything?"

"Don't be shy y/n, it's okay"

"I don't mind buying them for you"

And he does, bc cool boyfriends arent embarrassed to buy tampons 😎

Oh wait

"Pads or tampons?" "Ah ok" "What size exactly??" "Got it"

Hurries up bc he doesn't wanna leave you alone for too long.

Asks you what you wanna eat and will literally cook you anything

pasta with ice cream sauce? Ok

Pineapple on pizza? Ok

cook you his pet fish? Also ok

Makes you tea before bed, because he insists its good to prevent cramps

Might cuddle up in bed and lets you rest your head on his chest as he reads you a book of your choice.

Jay reading to you in that American accent 😩

♡ Sim Jake ♡

Boi does his research

he knows it has to do with periods and hormones when you start acting up

Is lowkey scared so he relies on google to provide him with answers.

"Ughhh, Jake, my cramps are getting worse" you whine, still laying in bed, scrunching up your face

He smiles brightly as he remembers of his searches

"I've heard that having sex could reduce period cramps" he announces proudly, looking at you like 😏

"You're seriously tryna get your dick wet rn??" you get mad and start throwing pillows at him.

"N-Nah but for real!!" He protests, ducking your hits "Seriously, I've read it online" he says in his defence, trying to catch his breath from that near pillow fight

"Damn, since when did you get so good at pillow fighting?" he tries to compliment but it only makes you wanna punch his bicep playfully.

You whine out in pain again, gripping onto his sitting figure at the edge of the bed. "What I am supposed to do?" he questions, haven already given you one alternative.

"Oh, how about we listen to my boy Justin?" he asks, already whipping out his phone

"Noooo, Enhypen is so much better dude" you reply, glaring at him

he agrees and puts on 'pass the mic'

He pushed your shoulders playfully "You got -pushed -pushed" he sings along

"JAKEEE"

Anyway, ends up buying you mc donalds and ice cream to make it up to you

he rly tries but he's a little clueless tbh.

♡ Park Sunghoon ♡

Bro lowkey ghosts you and avoids you

he knows that you're in a bad mood, and he doesn't wanna make it worse with uncontrollable teasing 😭

when you notice his distant behaviour, it only makes you even more upset

"HOON" you yell at him from the other room

he knows he fcked up and feel like he's boutta get his ass whooped.

He makes it hesitantly to your room, regretting it immediately when he sees your pout.

"H-hi y/n, he stutters, thinking of whatever he's gonna say, not wanting to upset your hormones.

"Hoon, why are you avoiding me?" the first tear rolls down your cheek "I'm literally bleeding and you're leaving me alone!" you burst out crying.

He stand there, biting his bottom lip, contemplating what to do

"C-can I hug you?" he asks, moving closer to you. He wraps his arms around you when you nod, pulling you in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry y/n, I thought you wanted to be left alone" he reasons, making sure you know he's sorry

"Its fine" you so sob into his shirt "Now can we watch your ice skating videos and cuddle?" you smile up at him suddenly, flattering your previously wet eyelashes to convince him.

He sighs, knowing you'll just burst out crying again if he doesn't agree

You reach for the remote, pulling on one of his ice skating videos.

He's already on your bed, hands behind his head, almost drifting off

"You look like a grandpa" you laugh, climbing onto your bed and getting closer to him, when the video starts playing.

"He wants to 'compliment' you back, but he fears he'll upset your hormones so he just doesn't say anything for your sake.

♡ Kim Sunoo ♡

A literal sweetheart

Almost like your bestie tbh

He cares about you so much and clearly shows it when your in these situations.

He doesn't hesitate to literally do everything for you

Take off your make up and does your skin care routine for you

Might even wash you if you're too tired to shower lmao

He pouts at you whenever you get cramps, wishing to take them away from you, just to see you smile again.

"My poor baby" he would say, hugging you close to him, gently, not to hurt you or anything.

He'd also be the best at tittie rubs

Like if your breasts were sore, he wouldn't mind massaging them, his soft hands easing some of the pressure on your chest.

You might even fall asleep like that, his hands on your chest under your top, acting like your bra as he sleeps behind you.

♡ Yang Jungwon ♡

Very mature #2

Cares a lot about you and worries

Studies and researches about it so you won't have bad periods :(

Worries when you wear tampons

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"Is it safe though?"

"Y/n, I don't think you should sleep t-tampons because you know, it m-might get stuck in there or something"

He just wants to make sure you're okay

"Ok gynaecologist 😀"

He doesn't really mind if you bleed on his sheets, as long as you aren't wearing tampons to bed

"It's fine sweetie, I'll clean it up"

Doesn't get mad or anything, changes the sheets and makes you change

Definitely cuddles you to sleep and holds your hand if the cramps get too much

♡ Nishimura Riki ♡

Teases the hell out of you

But also tries to help if you get cramps

If he sees you on the couch, he'll crawl in behind you, placing his hands on your hips.

He squeezes your waist

"My little ketchup bottle" he coos

"Nikiii" you try to squirm away embarrassed by his comment.

Definitely rubs your tummy if the cramps get too much

Slightly awkward at first and he feels a little shy doing it

"This okay?" he asks, rubbing circles in your tummy

You don't have the heart to tell him that it doesn't help but at least its a good distraction.

When he leaves for practise, he'll definitely leave you a plushy, big enough that you can hug it close

"Maybe this plushy will help :]" gives you his favourite plushy :(

He'll overall check up on you a lot, and really tried his best to help you out

I need a sweet boy like niki 😭

Hello! Thankyou for reading! Hope y'all are okay and remember that periods only last about a week! You got it!! For anyone who get cramps, I hope they're not as bad or get better :)

Lyyyy <333

If you enjoyed this post, you can help support my blog by tipping me here! Anything is highly appreciated!

#enhypen #enhypen hyungline #enhypen legal line #enha #enhypen masterlist #jungwon #enhypen smut #jake enhypen #jay enhypen #yang jungwon #enhypen jake #jungwon smut #nishimura riki #niki #heeseung enhypen #heeseung enha #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen hyung line #enhypen fics #enhypen fic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reaction when you're on your period #enhypen reaction when you have periods #enhypen headcanons #sunoo enhypen #jungwon enhypen #lee heeseung #sunghoon enhypen #park sunghoon

[ghostly-clown]

Slashers getting jealous over ur plush bear

This one to be exact (because look at this dude):

Will include: Michael myers, Jason voorhees, brahms heelshire, Thomas Hewett, the Sinclair brothers (all 3 of them)

.

Michael Myers

- he comes home and sees you on the coutch hugging this bear and not him??

- believe what u want but I love touch starved Michael

- will stand there offended before just ripping it out of ur arms

- hug him instead

- if you get up to get the bear first he will be salty for a week

- but if u give him a hug first then he will be ok with you grabing the bear again

- he will still be vry spitefully towards it, with its smug face and soft fur

- if its more of 'just another stuffed toy from the pile on your bed' he would burn it :/

- Michael is ur teddy bear now, u don't need the other one

- but if its genuinely important to you he'll despise it from a distance

.

Jason Voorhees

- totally the opposite of Michael, he thinks it's adorable

- he'll only get upset if u start hugging the bear instead of him

- or if he's next to you and you go to hug the bear first

- he will test you by sitting down with the bear next to him to see what you'll choose

- the right answer is grabing the bear and sitting in Jason's lap

- he would prefer if you just went straight to him but this is also acceptable

- He would also hug it alot when your not around tbh

- it reminds him of his childhood bear

- overall dosnt have a problem with the bear he just thinks ur real cute with it :)

.

Brahms Heelshire

- vry similar to Michael, he would hate it

- but he's more openly upset by it (via throwing tantrums)

- your spending all this time hugging a stuffed bear and not him????

- the betrayal he feels every time he sees you two together

- he will hide it around the house or in the walls and then act like he has no idea what's happened

- but if you start getting srsly upset he'll start to feel bad, your rly gotta pull on his heart strings, huh?

- when he eventually breaks he will knock on your door with it as if he just 'randomly found it'

- give him some reward hugs (but he would probably do it again)

.

Thomas Hewitt

- his jealousy will grow slowly over a vry long period of time

- at first he thinks it's adorable you still like to hug a stuffed bear

- but even after a while it won't ever be that bad

- he thinks it's stupid to get jealous of some inanimate object

- it would be more like, whenever u hug the bear he'll lean on u as his way of asking for a hug

- at his worst he'll just put himself between you and the bear

- let him be included, that's all he wants

- he'll also like to hug the bear, but he won't do it when you or anyone else is around

- hug ur bear and sit in his lap, his day will be made

.

Lester Sinclair

- he wouldn't actually get angry or jealous but he will play it up for funnsies

- like he'll see u hugging it and act like he just found u cheating

- dramatically rip it out of your arms and cry into it

- he also would just love the bear, like look at it

- he would 100% hug it alot aswell, both cause he thinks it's nice and also because it's his way of getting back at you

- he would also talk to it alot around you

- it's slowly just becoming his bear

- it will get to a point where he'll see you hugging it be dramatic again but reverse the rolls

- now he's mad at the bear for being with you

.

Vincent Sinclair

- his jealousy will be silent for obvious reasons

- as much as he thinks it's cute he wants to be in the bears place

- he also just wants hugs, but he finds it hard to ask for them

- he is completely aware of how petty it is to be jealous of a bear but it's not gonna stop him

- but leave him in a room alone with it for like 20 minutes and oh how he'll change

- you'll find him on the floor hugging it like the childhood toy he never got

- now he gets why you always have it

- after that he'll probably also hug the bear alot when ur not around

- it's soft, cute and makes him happy especially since it reminds him of u

.

Bo Sinclair

- he will get vry jealous but won't admit it, like Vincent he knows its petty but he won't voice his feelings cause he thinks it's more embarrassing

- he will just stand and watch the two of you from the door way

- trying to blow-up the bear with his mind

- he will try and play it off as a joke. He's not joking

- he's gonna be pretty passive aggressive about it

- similar to Brahms he will also try and hide it, and again won't give it back until he sees how much you're freaking out

- he'll choke it out in his free time, it his secret way of releasing stress

- man's just hates the bear but loves you so he can't just burn it and that's the relationship

.

I actually have this bear and it's great 10/10

#michael myers #halloween series #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw the beginning #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax #horror movies #slasher #slasher film #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #jealous slasher #ikea bear

[rabbitsrams]

The inexperienced fics are melting me atm. What about them experimenting with different kinks and stuff?! God you’ve changed my life 😭

hey anon wow ur so right...

btw im not really into that many kinks, specifically more hardcore ones, so i will likely leave a good amount of things out and probably won't rly write about them just bc of my personal preferences.

kinks included: praise kink, spanking, bondage/blindfolding, light choking, roleplaying, voice kink, hand kink, hair pulling kink.

(i can do a part 2 of things i missed cuz there's a lot more i wanna write)

(also should i make a masterlist of all of these lc schlatt fics?)

nsfw under the cut, minors dni!! 18+ only.

so to start off lightly schlatt is already very aware of your praise kink and hand kink. he's not dumb, he sees how you look at them. and he sees how you react when you get an answer right in class.

okay but like his hands are so fucking sexy like. you already know. and i feel like he just knew you would go absolutely crazy once he was able to get his hands on you.

you literally spent like 5 minutes examining his hands and his fingers right before he fingered you for the first time. and you have a specific fixation with his long ass middle finger (cuz who wouldn't).

and from there you want his hands anywhere and everywhere on you. including around your neck.

one day while you were doing stuff you just impulsively took his hand and placed it on your neck. and he just freezes.

"you want me to do what?"

"just... you don't need to squeeze. but keep it there, please." oh he's absolutely done for.

going back to praise kink. it's kind of in his nature to compliment you and tell you how good you feel. but i feel like he would just double it because of how much you love to be praised.

when he calls you a good girl for the first time. on the floor. crying. screaming. and he fucking loves how you react when he calls you that so he does it all. the. time.

constantly calling you pretty and beautiful and telling you how good you're taking his fingers/cock. grr bark bark i need him.

okay also he's so into you pulling his hair. like. oh my god. you always find a way to do it whenever he's eating you out and he practically melts every time.

and just in general he loves it when you play with his hair whether it be while you're cuddling or while he's giving you the best head of your life.

asking him to spank you. he's really hesitant and doesn't wanna hurt you but you insist. he starts off rly light and gentle and you kind of have to push him a bit to do it harder but once he does oh boy you're done for. he's just so fixated on how your ass jiggles when he spanks you...

the first time you have phone sex is when you realize you have a bit of a voice kink. just hearing him speaking to you in that low tone about all the things he'd do to you if he was there... god damn.

AND THEN LATER YOU ASK HIM IF HE CAN BLINDFOLD YOU SO HE TAKES ONE OF HIS TIES AND COVERS YOUR EYES WITH IT. AND HE JUST. TALKS ABOUT WHAT HE'S GONNA DO TO YOU AND PRAISES YOU AND EVERYTHING OH MY GOD SEND ME TO THE ER IM HAVING A HEART ATTACK.

i feel like he's really into roleplay but is really embarrassed about it. he thinks it's cringe but is pleasantly surprised to hear you're kind of into it.

you're both really awkward when trying to do it but that mostly results in a lot of giggling bc it is kind of cringe but who really cares.

yeah you also practically begged him to let you tie him up. :) he didn't know how much that turned him on but... wow.

he really wants to touch you while you're riding him BUT HE CAN'T BECAUSE HE'S RESTRAINED!! so he begs and begs and begs for you to untie him so he can touch you but you refuse. gets super whiny and whimpery🥺🥺

one day after he came back from his dorm he was greeted to the sight of you naked and tied to his bed :D oh he went so crazy there he practically came on the spot.

he gave you a taste of your own medicine too, teased you a fuck ton that had you turning into a whimpering mess <3 you had to BEG him to do something arhejghjdfdfvjkfd and after you did? best sex of your life.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfiction #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #jschlatt smut #schlatt x reader #schlatt smut

[slamminslamminmcgill]

joel getting off of a carpenter job all sweaty and smelling like lumber and probably a little beer and uhhhhhhhhh stealing his sweaty shirts and huffing them when he goes to shower. what who said that 🧍‍♂️

rl quick shoutout to my dilf friend who hosts the orgy he smells rly good and i huffed his pits last night so this one’s your fault babes mwah

anatomical terms: cunt, dick

Is this how drug dogs feel?

When some idiot’s trying to sneak weed through customs, is this how excited they get when they catch a whiff?

Well, probably not this excited, and either way, it’s not the smell that hypes them up, but the promise of a treat afterwards.

You, on the other hand, were attracted to the smell itself, or at least the idea of it. Specifically, Joel’s scent as soon as he walked into the apartment, face flushed, brow dotted with sweat, wet patches pooling under his armpits, sawdust sprinkling him from head to toe, ripped jeans with paint splatters on them. He looked gorgeous, so masculine and powerful. Jesus was a carpenter too, wasn’t he? Yeah, that tracks. No wonder he had twelve dudes following him all the time. Joel’s smell was as conspicuous as lighting a blunt in the airport, something that’d surely attract the dogs.

He wiped his Timberland boots on the mat, then knelt down to untie them. You watched, entranced, as he kicked them off and unbuckled his tool belt. You wanted nothing more than to rush him and face-plant into his armpits, but you figured you should show at least some restraint.

“I’m’onna take a shower,” Joel said matter-of-factly, dropping his tool belt on the counter. “Scream if ya need me.”

Shit, if that’s all it took, you’d scream for him to suffocate you in his pits and let you huff that glorious Man Smell™️ until you pass out, but that wasn’t what he meant. He meant “Unless you’re being murdered, don’t bother me for the next 20 minutes”.

No matter. You could easily keep yourself busy in that time.

Once the shower was on, you cloaked your footsteps under the sound of running water. Slowly, ever so slowly, you tiptoed to the bathroom and cracked the door open. Joel wouldn’t have been able to see you through the shower curtain, anyway, but you didn’t want him catching on. You slid your arm through the gap and blindly felt around for the first piece of clothing you could grab. At the first touch of cotton, you hooked your fingers into it, yanked it through the door, and inspected your prize: his t-shirt. Jackpot.

Having snagged your precious treasure, you shut the bathroom door and practically skipped off to your room. You flopped onto your bed, held the balled-up shirt to your face, and took a big whiff. Sweat, lumber, testosterone, and what you guessed to be either Modelo or Corona. Whatever it was, it was just one ingredient, one splash in this hedonistic cocktail that made it all the more intoxicating. Your cunt was already crying for attention, so you slipped your fingers in your underwear to soothe it. Rubbing along your own slit, spreading the wetness around, pinching your dick and stroking it, you tended to your needs as best you could, the musky shirt muffling your moans. You’d gotten so invested, so focused on your task, that you forgot to listen for the shower turning off. You only realized your mistake when it came barging through your bedroom door.

“Hey, have you seen my-?” Joel started, and then stopped mid-question when you answered it for him. Yes. Yes, you had seen his shirt. And now he had seen it, balled up in your desperate fist, while your other hand rubbed your even more desperate cunt.

No fucking shot of explaining your way out of this one. He knew immediately.

Joel snorted at the pathetic sight before him, “Oh my god, that’s… What is wrong with you, kid?”

You laid frozen on the bed as he approached, surely taking his sweet time to let your embarrassment fester. Once he was within range, he snatched the shirt out of your hand, and said,

“Don’t go stealin’ my shit, boy. Next time you want somethin’ from me, use your words and just fuckin’ ask.”

#anon #ask #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #joel miller #joel miller headcanon #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

[wooahaes]

we won’t change (because we’re engraved in each other’s hearts)

pairing: non-idol!joshua x fem!reader

genre: fluff. sappy, sappy fluff.

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: alcohol mentions/drunk shua + reader. one mentioned rebuff towards sex. a very not-sober shua being the sappiest man in the world for readers bday.

daisy’s notes: tbh i should rank the group based on how fun i think itd be to get drunk w them. my lil wooahae man made it easy for me to say someones dead last bc he doesnt rly drink since it makes him sick, so thank u jihoonie

All you had wanted for your birthday was a nice night together with your boyfriend, and Joshua was going to ensure you got it.

Most days, Joshua doted on you, and today had been no different. From the second opinion he gave when you asked for it (which pair of heels to wear tonight, did your eyeliner look alright...), to the way he slowly zipped you into your dress before planting a chaste kiss against your neck, and the way his hand found yours on the trip to and from the restaurant. The first time had been his way of holding onto you, just to keep himself tethered to you with a subtle smile and a question about how the rest of your day had gone. The second was to keep himself close to you while he nearly stumbled over himself at times, the alcohol in his system making his steps a little less certain than before--but with your hand in his, he could at least make sure that you didn’t trip up anywhere.

Which brought him to now. He was lying in bed, having changed out of his nicer clothes, and waiting for the very-exhausted you to make your way from the bathroom back into your shared bedroom. Even if his teasing kisses down your neck had been met with a “not tonight, Joshy, I’m sleepy,” he was still excited to see your pretty face when all was said and done. His face was illuminated by his phone as he scrolled through social media, a pillow in his arms as he waited for you to come and take its place.

“Shua,” you had dragged out his name as you stumbled back into the room. How much did the two of you drink again? Joshua wasn’t sure, but he was already clicking his phone off. “Move over.”

“This is my side,” he teased.

A groan. “So mean.... And on my birthday, too...” But he watched you make your way to his side anyway, and he slid over to give you room to nearly face-plant into the mattress.

From there, he could see how your face was still slightly wet from going through your cleansing routine. He could smell the moisturizer you used, too--fruity, because you always preferred those scents. He reached out, tugging at you slightly as he shoved the pillow back into its proper place.

“Pillow’s gone,” he said. “I’m here.”

Without answering, you moved, crawling into his arms and settling there. He held you against his chest, moving to press a tiny kiss against your neck.

“Josh--” You mumbled, only to burst into quiet giggles as he continued to press quick peck after peck against your skin, “that tickles.”

“I love you,” he said, smiling softly. He could feel himself already starting to drift off, and he stifled a yawn before planting another sleepy kiss against your neck. “Thank you for looking after me,” he squeezed around your stomach a little. “And for loving me.”

Your head dipped back, bumping against him. “You’re sappy tonight, huh...”

He chuckled against your neck, hot breath fanning your skin. “I mean it. Thank you,” another gentle squeeze, “for being a part of my life. And for saying yes when I asked you to be my girlfriend...” He paused, stifling another yawn. “Even though Jeonghan asked you out five minutes earlier to make me jealous...”

“I don’t like Jeonghan like that, silly.” With a few taps against his arms, he let you go. You turned over to face him, one hand reaching up to hold his face. “Josh. I think you drank too much, honey.”

Again, he just laughed softly. “I mean it!” He leaned in, planting one final kiss against your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, you sap.” You snuggled in closer, legs intertwining with his.

With one hand curled around your back, he’d begun to trace hearts with his fingers. “Thank you for being born,” he said softly. “I think... I think we’re soulmates.”

“Joshua...” You squeezed him gently. “Go to sleep, honey.”

“I mean it,” he said again, softer this time. “Happy birthday.” He nuzzled his head closer to your own, eyes fluttering shut. “Thank you for finding me.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao​ @wonuziex​ @synthetickitsune​ @cinnamoroxie​

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #joshua hong fluff #joshua x reader #joshua fluff #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you #wooahaes.23

[luveline]

baby blurb for rockstar!remus :3

maybe a rainy day stuck in the hotel in bed.

its raining where i live right now so this is kinda self indulgent. hope ur day/night is going well jade <3

this one didn't win the poll i just wanted to do it rly bad ty for ur request ilysm. tw really weak dirty joke ♡ gn!reader

You're staying in a hotel in the middle of the city, and Remus can't really leave without getting mobbed by fans these days anyways, so the rain isn't a bad thing after all. You crack the window enough to hear the sound, and Remus turns the thermostat up really, really high to fight the chill.

"C'mere, loverboy," you demand, hands reaching down the length of the bed for him.

He rolls his eyes at your position, your socked feet held up by the headboard and your head in the middle of the sheets, and flops down next to you. The two of you look like interlocked commas, heads bent together.

"Remus," you say softly, because demanding isn't working. "Lay down with me."

"I am."

You implore him to do as you do with a very gentle gaze. Eventually, reluctantly, he does what you're hedging for and puts his feet up on the headboard beside yours. When he lays back, his hair spreads out over the sheets in a small, silky wave.

"Happy?" he asks.

You grab one of his hands and bring it to your mouth, kissing his callused fingers one at a time rather than answer. You lay like that for a while, longer than you should, murmuring to each other until Remus makes a dirty innuendo and his lips quirk up into a lopsided smile. You laugh, sudden and hard, chest aching as you drop your feet from the headboard and curl toward him.

He pulls you into his chest, breath warm in your hair and on your skin as he asks, "What's so funny?"

"Don't play dumb," you protest, shaking with laughter still on top of him.

He rubs your hairline with his pinky finger distractedly. "Don't see what's so humorous about my big affliction-"

"Huge," you interject.

"Charmer."

You turn into his hold and needle your arms behind his back, hugging him so tight that the sound of his heart rivals the pittering rain. "You mean your heart."

"Obviously. What else do I have that's big, warm and throbbing?"

You gasp, scandalised and offended. "That's awful!" You giggle like a hiccup, the facade slipping very quickly. "Throbbing. Ew. Nobody would ever believe that you just said that to me, you know?"

"I know."

You like the insinuation, that you're the only person in the world who knows Remus like this, and who gets to hear his stupid, gross jokes. He must be thinking the same thing. His fingertips slip down your spine until you shudder, and then he takes a big handful of your waist and squeezes.

"Love you," he says quietly.

"Love you. And your huge, warm-"

He kisses you before you can say it.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #marauders #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders fanfic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #rockstar!au #rockstar!remus #bassist!remus

[littledollll]

Quiet time

Larissa weems x none to semi-verbal reader

Warnings: none rly?

Coming back from what you would call a heavy day, most people don’t get it, “Wasnt it fun?”, “I thought you had a good time” some even straight up saying “I don’t get how your brain works” that’s fine. You did have fun, it was a good time, great actually but it’s overwhelming and tiering, surrounded by people and sound everywhere. You just needed to decompress.

You threw your stuff on the nearest surface, that’s for future you to worry about finding, making your way into bed and crashing face-first with a heavy sigh. You didn’t bother picking up your phone you’d just stare at it without actually using it, headphones on but no music playing, they just tuned out background noise that’s all you needed.

You just laid there hugging your pillow, dissociated and humming, to no song nor particular rhythm, you were too busy self soothing when Larissa came in. She actually got it, she’d occasionally enjoy quiet time for at least a few minutes after coming home from a long day. It didn’t always mean that you wanted complete silence, most of the time it was just a few minutes before you were ready to listen just not necessarily talk, and that was alright with her.

Larissa knew you well enough to know that it was quiet time the moment she saw you, and actually it was for her too. She wordlessly moved across the room just getting ready for bed, your unfocused eyes eventually drifted to her and you just watched, there was something oddly soothing about her nighttime routine.

The way she’d sit, how she carefully undid her hair, wipe away her makeup, undress and wrap a robe around herself readying for a bath or shower. Still there were no words said between the two of you, just comfortable silence, and she disappeared off to the showers.

Sometimes words just felt like a chore to get out, sometimes you needed a second to breathe, sleep it off, maybe a whole day, and that was fine with her, after you explained you never got hit with a “are you mad?” or a an angry “so did you have fun at all?”, which made you beyond happy.

Once she was out of the shower you knew her quiet time was officially over٫ she enjoys doing her selfcare in peace٫ who could blame her, which means you now get to happily and silently hear about her day.

“You know about two seconds after you left this morning I got a call that the one and only miss Wednesday Addams was already starting her mission on making my day impossible” You took your headphones off and turned to look at her as she began٫ showing she had your full attention.

She continued on, telling you everything from how she handled Wednesday to what she had for lunch, the coffee she bought that didn’t really taste like coffee which she was very offended at, that made you giggle, she sounded so genuinely insulted about this. “Oh by the way darling I put your keys in the key holder because i knew you were gonna go insane looking for them in the morning, stop just blindly throwing them!”

“mm my bad..” you mumbled out, by now you were both laying in bed, you kinda on top of Larissa, snuggled into her stomach with your arms around her waist. “It’s quite alright, I just don’t want you to stress about finding them later on.” You responded with a hum, playing with the hem of her sleep shirt.

“So when do I get to hear about your day out?” She asked, not really needing an answer just giving you the option of when to talk. You pretended to think about it for a long time with a drawn-out hum. “t’morrow- morning maybe?” She nodded, playing with your hair before she spoke again.

“Darling if you at any point want the blanket to be on top of us you need to move up.” You frown, picking up the blanket and throwing it fully on top of you both successfully reaching her top and hiding you completely. “Are you seriously planning to stay there the whole night?” You nodded. “And if I move?” She turned to her side and you moved along with her, dedicated to your position. “‘m fine here, comfy.”

Larissa sighed, you already decided you’re staying there, there’s nothing that’s going to change your mind, honestly she didn’t mind it, you’re just too far for her to cuddle, correctly anyways. “Goodnight, my darling” you delivered a soft kiss to her stomach. “Night, love.”

#wednesday netflix #Larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa x reader #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie #Spotify

[asimpforyagami]

hai i rly like ur writing matt (mail) x fem reader smut pleaseee :3

yours. (matt)

↷ A/N ─ procrastinated too much on this one but its finally here! thank you for 1k notes :D abrupt ending once more but cough cough you love me

★ COUNT ─ 1.5k

!! TAGS ─ matt x reader, f!reader, smoking, mentions of stalking, cunnilingus, begging, unprotected sex, p in v

★ PROLOGUE ─ your boyfriend assures you that you're his one and only

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

"Did you hear me?" you snapped at Matt.

Matt continued his gaming session as if you were part of the wall, his eyes focusing on the computer screen. The room was a littered mess with food and cereal covering most of the cold hard floor. His foot tapped the ground rhythmically and he sat leaned back against the couch.

"I want you to stop stalking that woman," you said again, louder this time. When he still refused to answer, you shook his shoulders. "Mail Jeevas!"

Matt rolled his eyes and let out a long puff of his cigarette. Then he said groggily, not taking his eyes off the screen, "It's my job."

"To gawk at women on your computer all day?"

"Kinda?" he shrugged.

You were infuriated, to say the least.

"But it's not right!"

"I'm literally loyal to someone like Mello, and you call this a problem," he snorted, still not looking at you.

You kept quiet for some time, trying to come up with a good argument. But in reality, it wasn't the stalking that annoyed you. It was the fact that Misa Amane was a pretty woman. And Mello had himself told you that Matt described her as "cute". Your boyfriend was calling another girl beautiful behind your back. How could you not be upset about something like that?

As Matt continued his game, you felt a whirlwind of emotions; sad, angry, betrayed, jealous.

"Matt," you said in a small voice.

He glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the screen. He seemed unfazed by your tone, almost as if he didn't care about you at all.

"You know what? Forget it," you muttered.

You turned to leave the room. But as you reached the doorway, something inside you snapped. No, you couldn't let this go. Not when he could be a potential cheater.

You marched back to where Matt sat, slamming your hand down on the desk, causing him to flinch slightly.

"What?" he asked irritatedly.

"You think this is funny, don't you?" you yelled. "Laughing behind my back about some other girl."

Matt's expression shifted from annoyance to confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Matt," you retorted, your voice rising. "I heard what you said about her."

Matt blinked. What the heck were you talking about?

And then it clicked.

He felt like he could burst with laughter. Of course, you were jealous.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" he smiled, but immediately dropped it when he saw your face.

Your body shook with fury. "Do you ever take anything seriously?"

He frowned. "You're being ridiculous and you know it, Y/N," he said indifferently. "If you have a problem with the girls that throw themselves at me, take it up with them. Don't drag me into your insecurities."

With that, he turned back to his game, and you stood in shock before promptly turning on your heel and left the room and slamming the door behind you. In your mind, you rolled your eyes. This wasn't over. He'd come back to you, clinging onto you and trying to make up.

-----

The door creaked open and you immediately closed your eyes, pretending to sleep. You didn't want to talk to him. Not after what he told you.

You heard him shuffle into the room and climb onto his side of the bed. He stayed silent, but you could feel him staring at your face in the dark. You closed your eyes tighter.

"Y/N?" he whispered. "Look, I'm sorry."

You said nothing. After a few moments, you felt him lean over and leave a gentle kiss on your forehead - an act he did not usually do.

"I love you, I swear," he said. "I'm sorry."

You wanted to tell him that you loved him too. But you didn't want to give in that easily. He had to work for it.

"Y/N, I know you're awake. Hear me out at least."

"I don't want to talk," you said in a low voice, eyes still shut tight.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded again. You felt him reach out to touch your arm, but you pulled away. "I can make it up to you, baby, please."

"No," you said, opening your eyes and crossing your arms.

"Please?" he gave you the puppy eyes. His hand reached behind your back and under your shirt, toying with the hook of your bra. You kept staring at him.

"Matt..."

"Hm?" he unclasped your bra with two fingers and pulled it off both your shoulders slowly.

"You're gonna regret this," you told him, but you knew he wouldn't. He wanted to make you happy, and all you wanted right now was him.

He smiled sweetly and brought his lips down to your neck, dragging them along your soft skin. Both his hands were now under your shirt, rubbing circles over your breasts.

"Please, Y/N," his tone had turned mocking now as he lifted himself up so that he could straddle you with ease. "Forgive me, darling."

His weight pressed upon you as he kissed various parts of your upper body, pulling your shirt off and probably leaving a large rip on the fabric.

"I'm sorry," his voice turned low and husky, his hand sliding down your stomach to the heat between your legs. Finding your clit, he began circling it with his fingers over the cloth of your shorts and panties, his other hand working to strip you off of those two as well.

"Matt," you breathed, but he shut you up by pressing his lips against yours.

Silently, he took the remaining clothes off you and pulled away merely to admire you for a second. Video games, smoking and you. That was all he wished to live for.

"I'll make it up to you, baby," he poured. "I'll fuck this pretty pussy for you."

Oh god. You were in deep trouble now.

"May I eat you out, baby?"

You felt your pussy throb at the idea of him going down on you. You shook your head hurriedly.

"Please?" He whined, kissing your nipples one by one.

"Ugh, yes, please," you felt yourself finally give jn. You wanted him.

"Thank you, cutie," he shifted his position so he now sat at the edge of the bed near your toes.

He brought his head down to your pussy and gave a single, long stroke of a lick. You arched your back at the wave of pleasure that followed.

"More," you pleaded.

"Relax, darling. I'm all yours."

Without warning, he began lapping, kissing and licking your pussy, making you shake your legs and wrap them around his waist.

"Matt, oh god."

He hummed in response before sliding three fingers inside you all at once. You screamed and quickly muffled it with your palm, not wanting anyone to walk in on you in such a vulnerable state. Matt, however, frowned and stopped his activity before pulling the fingers out from you. He dragged them along your pussy up to your nipples and pinched one of them.

"I want to hear you say that you forgive me," he cooed before bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking on them.

You stared at him and nodded. He smiled and unbuckled his own belt. The look on his face was one of a little child who had finally managed to convince his parents to buy him a new toy. The innocent expression completely contradicted the manner in which he threw his pants and boxers off and pumped his dick a few times with his hands.

"You see this, baby?" He said. "I have to do it myself because you're still mad at me and won't do it for me."

You gripped the bedsheets tight. Oh how you wanted to push yourself onto his throbbing dick right now. You couldn't stand to see his dick being so close to you and not inside you yet.

"No, Matt, please," you begged.

"Please what?"

"Fuck me!" You yelled. "I swear I'm not mad at you. I need you inside me. Please, fuck me!"

He looked at you for a few long seconds.

"Can I smoke while I do it?"

"Anything!" You said desperately.

His face brightened up. "Okay!" He said, before shaking his tangled pants completely off him and thrusting inside you without warning. "Just kidding."

You screamed. It hurt, but the pleasure was enough to mask it. And if you had been in a better state right now, you'd have confiscated his video games for playing that dirty prank on you.

"So tight for me? Loosen up a little, can't you?" He joked, lifting both of your legs and tapping your ass gently. "I can barely fit in!"

You groaned. "Shut up."

He fastened his pace. "Do you forgive me, mommy?"

"Don't call me that," you snapped.

"Answer," he said sternly with a particularly hard thrust.

"Oh! Fuck, yes," you moaned as he continued pumping his pulsing dick in and out of you. "Matt! Yes!"

"What was that?" He raised his eyebrows and doubled his speed. "You forgive me?"

"Yes, yes, ugh, I love you," you kicked in the air multiple times.

"I'm flattered," he half-smiled.

© asimpforyagami, 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

#death note #mail jeevas #matt death note #death note manga #manga #mello #mihael keehl #misa amane #death note smut #death note short stories #Matt #death note matt #matt smut #answered

[daisyful-gvf]

✿ little wing ✿

part 3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pairings: jake x reader

word count: 7.5k

notes: finally!! god i love this chapter. and i can’t wait for the next :)

warnings: sexual situations, marijuana use, drinking, angst :(

playlist (which i’ve become rly attached to lol)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

-✿-

You’re insane if you think The Beatles are better than Cream

You laugh to yourself at his message. It’s a very Jake thing to say. Your answer is playful:

i think you’re just stubborn

It’s been nice texting Jake here and there. During the long stretches in the cramped sprinter van, between braiding Violet’s hair and plucking absentmindedly on your acoustic, it’s an exciting little activity. He’s witty, and also somehow awake most hours of the day.

That could be. But consider this:

He sends a Youtube link to a live performance of Crossroads, and you know before you even listen that he likely has you beat. You watch it anyways and smile at the thought that he shared it with you.

alright, i’ll concede

You answer. After another moment you add

for now

“What’s that about?” Paisley’s voice catches you off guard in the seat row in front of you. Her eyeliner is still half on from the show the night before, and she rubs at it as she smiles at you, “The giggling at your phone. Jake?”

If you act surprised, she’ll see right through it. You just nod, and try not to blush too hard. She offers you a knowing smile and you wave her off.

“I’m just saying…” she laughs and plays with the wooden beaded bracelets on her wrist.

“Well don’t,” you smile and pick up your guitar again, putting Jake out of your mind for a moment.

“Come on,” she grins, “What’s going on?”

The air seems stuffy in the van suddenly, so you crack a window. The summer Texas air is inviting on your skin and through your hair.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, “Truly, I don’t. I think we’re just friends, I think…”

She gives you an anticipatory look as you gather your thoughts.

“He’s a flirt, but he seems to tone it down with me. I think he’s just being nice. Professional, even.”

Whether or not she means for it to, the boisterous laugh that comes out pangs at your chest. As your face falls and you resort to playing a riff on the acoustic, she notices.

“Hey,” she soothes, “I’m not trying to be mean. I just wish I should shake some sense into you.”

You raise your brow at her as you play.

“I don’t know that even if I spelled it out for you, that you’d get it, babe,” she says gently, “But if he’s making you happy to be around, go with it.”

“Just don’t leave us in the dust for some rockstar dick, please,” Carol chimes in from the front. She gives you a wicked grin and then smacks her gum.

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes, “It’ll never be like that.”

Paisley reaches over and ruffles your hair before she turns to lay her head against the window, and then you’re left with your own thoughts again. The buzz of your phone on your thigh startles you.

What do I get for winning? :)

You roll your eyes at his cheeky message.

well, what do you want?

He reads the message instantly, and after about a minute of silence your stomach starts to knot.

And then it hits you. You’re in it. You haven’t felt nervous over a text from someone in god knows how long, and it’s almost embarrassing how plain it is for yourself to see. And maybe, it’s not such an insane thing to like him. Maybe you’ll let yourself see where it goes.

Smoke with me again?

You don’t notice you’re smiling at it until your cheeks ache a bit.

if you insist, kiszka

The beds of your nail starts to bleed as you chew at the skin anxiously. You send the next message with your breath held:

time & place?

He answers quickly

After the show? I think our hotel’s right across from the venue. Meet me at the lobby bar?

Trying your best not to overthink it, you reply

see you then. good luck with the show tonight! big crowd.

Oh yeah? You think I need luck?

Your stomach turns at the playfulness of his response.

so humble, you are

The bubble of ellipses taunt you for a moment as he answers.

;)

You stare at the small winking face for a while before you decide it’s probably bad for your cardiac health, and set the phone face down on the seat. The Texas wind knots your hair, but you smile as the breeze hits your face.

-✿✿✿-

You find yourself in a trance as you watch the crew pack up Greta’s equipment from the side stage. Fog still curls through the edges of the room from the machines. After you let yourself watch for a bit, you take a deep breath and make your way back to the girls.

Outside by the van, you find Violet with a leg propped against the small metal barricade, puffing on a cigarette.

“Hey,” she says gently, “We’re gonna go get pizza I think. Coming?”

You lean into her and give her a sloppy half hug, shaking your head, “M’gonna go hang out with Jake for a bit if that’s alright.”

She grins like a cheshire cat and puts her cigarette out on her heel of her docs.

“It’s sweet, y’know,” he clears her throat.

“Mm?” you shuffle your feet around, acting oblivious.

“I can tell you like him. It’s sweet.”

You shrug and lean against the barrier, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She laughs softly and leans next to you, “You don’t have to, that’s the fun of it. Just see where it goes.”

Her words seem so obvious, yet so hard to abide by in the moment.

You nod anyways, and then stand back up, stretching your hands up into the warm evening air. The crop top you’re wearing exposes your stomach to the breeze, and it’s unexpectedly grounding.

The rest of the girls round the corner and motion to Violet, and she leaves you with a soft wave and a smile.

After a deep breath, you turn on your heels and begin to walk around to the front of the venue, making your way to the hotel. The streetlights are warm orange against the dark sky, and it comforts you in an odd nostalgic way. The hotel is nice, a tall, shiny building, just a block away. You enter the lobby with your breath held.

He’s laughably easy to spot in a crowd. He’s in a black cutoff tank, and his brown hair spills in waves over his shoulders.

You approach the bar slowly and tap him once on the back. He turns with an already gentle smile on his face. He never seems caught off guard.

“Hey, little wing,” he grins and turns to bring you into a side hug,

You head reels, all at once hit with the smell of him, the warmth of him. In your head, his voice echos:

little wing

If he didn’t have a soft hold on your torso, your knees surely would buckle.

“Little wing?” you try to sound casual as you slide into the barstool beside him.

He nods, then is quiet for a moment as he adjusts back onto his stool.

“Seems fitting,” He finally says, taking one of the final sips of his drink, “That alright?”

You hum your approval, trying desperately to relax.

“I don’t have a nickname for you,” you blurt out.

He shrugs and signals the bartender for his tab, “You’ll think of one m’sure.”

“You want one?” your smile is genuine.

He smiles at his drink and takes the final swig, then shrugs as he sets it down and swallows. His eyes finally meet yours. “If you wanna give me one, yeah. ‘Course.”

“Hmm,” you bite your lip, “I’ll get back to you.”

He nods and takes the check from the bartender, exchanging his card and finally signing the receipt before he motions to you to exit.

You follow him across the white tile floor of the lobby to the elevator, where you’re met with a silence that is shockingly comfortable. Finally, he breaks it.

“Have a good show tonight?”

He’s standing in the opposite corner of the elevator, waiting your answer intently.

You nod, “One of the better ones actually. You?”

Instantly, he’s smiling, “Yeah, I felt good tonight.”

After you nod, he continues, “I watched your set.”

The comment makes your chest flush. You try to remember that he’s just a musician after all, too.

“And?” you bite your lip nervously.

The steel elevator doors creak open and he gives an ‘after you’ wave of his arm. He exists, then leads the way down the red-carpeted hall.

“I enjoyed it,” he answers, turning slightly to you as he walks, and he fidgets with his rings, “Your band is talented, that’s undeniable.”

You smile, thinking of the girls. The bond you all have is intense, and you can’t help but be proud on their behalves from the compliment.

“You especially,” he grins as he tugs his wallet from his jean pocket and retrieves the key card.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes.

“I’m biased, as a fellow guitarist,” he opens the door and lets you in, “But I’m serious. It’s good.”

You spin to face him once inside, once again taken by the slight smell of shampoo and moisture from his pre-show shower.

“Thank you,” you say genuinely, “Really.”

He hold eye contact as he nods and smiles, and you suddenly don’t feel so on edge. He’s sweet.

“So,” he drums the tops of his thighs and moves to sit on the bed, “You were crazy for trying to argue The Beatles over Cream, y’know. You had this coming.”

You laugh, turning to make your way to the couch, and then—

There is no couch. Just the king bed, large and white in the middle of the room. Your cheeks heat.

“You good?” He asks, as you’ve fallen silent. Your head whips back around to him and you nod.

“You’re gonna make your whole room smell like weed, y’know,” you say, trying to talk yourself into normalcy.

He shrugs, “I don’t care. Better weed than stale hotel.”

You smile and make your way to the edge of the bed. You sit on the very corner, unsure of what else to do. He giggles, you’re pretty sure at your nervousness, but then he gets up and goes to his bag that sits on the desk.

Out of it he retrieves his metal tin and a lighter. He also pulls out a small bag of starbursts, and when he makes his way back to half-lay on the bed, he extends the yellow package to you with his eyebrows raised.

“M’good,” you smile. He nods and sets them aside, opening the metal tin and pulling out a pre roll. He lights up quickly, and the smell calms you instantly.

“You can lay down if you want,” he rasps as he holds in the green hit, “M’not gonna bite.”

The laugh that trills out of you is loud, and it makes him giggle in response.

“I’d hope not,” you try to ease the tension, and then let yourself lay down. You face each other, propped up on your sides a few feet away on opposite sides of the mattress.

He hands you the joint and after you take it, he plops flat onto his back, sinking into the weight of the mattress. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as you inhale.

When they open, his eyes a bit sleepy, he feels his pockets for his phone. You watch him scroll through it as you take another deep hit, and then finally he sighs and sets the device aside.

“I know I said I don’t usually watch movies when I smoke, but I’m not really feeling music right now,” he says. He stretches for the remote on the nightstand, revealing a strip of his stomach above his jeans that makes you blush. “That okay?” he asks.

Nodding, you cup your hand under the joint as the ash accumulates. He notices and gets up to grab an empty cup from near the ice bucket, passing it to you as he settles back onto the bed. This time, he lays up by the headboard, an arm stretched up behind his head casually.

He looks so good. A glimmer of hope crosses you, that maybe he will take this further.

“You wanna pick the movie?” He says, clicking at

the remote, stealing you from your thoughts.

You shake your head, “Go ahead.”

He bites his lip absentmindedly, and yeah, this is bad for you. There’s no denying that you want him, but you know yourself, and you can’t make a move first.

“Pirates?” He smiles at you and points to the TV with the remote.

You swivel your head to find Johnny Depp’s charming, dirty face grinning at you. After a short laugh, you nod. Jake nods back.

Passing him back the joint, you roll to lay on your stomach, parallel to him.

“How you gonna watch the movie if you’re faced this way?” He smarts. You shrug, swiping your hand along the soft plush of the comforter.

“Maybe I just wanna lay here,” you counter.

“Fair,” he puffs on the joint. There’s smoke in the air now, clinging to the mild humidity that seeps in from the summer evening, “So when did you start playing?”

“Guitar?”

He nods, hitting it again.

“Mm,” you ponder, again and again brushing your hand over the fabric, “Maybe twelve or thirteen?”

He nods and passes you the joint. As he holds the smoke in his lungs, he rasps out, “It shows.”

You can’t help your eye roll—while it’s very polite of him, it’s comical in some way that you feel such validation from it.

“What?” he giggles.

“Nothing,” you laugh, “Nothing, thank you.”

“You have a favorite song to play?”

“On stage?”

He shrugs, “Anywhere.”

You scoff, “You should know that’s an impossible question.”

His giggle is effortless, and he shrugs again, “Maybe. Try.”

Taking your last hit, you answer him upon exhale, “Right now? Maybe Red House.”

“God,” his smile is wide and toothy as he takes the joint back.

“What?” You blush at his response.

“Nothing,” he parrots your earlier response, “Good song.”

“You?”

He finishes off the joints and puts it out in the bottom of the cardboard cup; likely a fire hazard, but one that will be disregarded. He pops another starburst into his mouth.

“Right now it’s Orchid,” he smiles, as he talks around the candy “But it changes about every three days.”

“Mm,” you hum in acknowledgement. A gentle silence blankets the room, and in the background, Pirates plays on. You stare are your fingers, mostly, as they play with the edge of a down pillow now. Jake’s eyes flit between the screen and you.

It’s quiet for maybe ten minutes before he finally speaks, his voice now a little more hoarse.

“Wanna drink?”

You look up to him. His eyes are heavily lidded, and he looks relaxed. Only after you’re looking somewhere other than your hands do you realize you’re starting to feel the weed. You nod.

“Like water, or like whiskey?”

Blinking at him, you can’t bring yourself to decide.

“Whiskey it is,” he laughs, “Took too long, silly girl.”

Unable to help it, you bite your lip at the name. It’s laced with affection, or at least you’re pretty sure.

He slides off the bed easily, his jeans making a soft noise against the comforter. You don’t know how he’s always in jeans; perhaps for the aesthetic. The moment your set had ended earlier, you opted for some soft, flowy pants and a cropped shirt to cope with the temperature.

“Just one,” he’s handing you a can before you know it.

“This is soda,” you furrow your brow. He giggles.

“Not just,” he eases the can toward you, “There’s no more cups in here. I poured it in.”

The smell hits you then; the sweet dark liquor mixed with the sugary cola smell. It’s enticing.

You take a heavy swig, and yeah, he was right. He settles back on the bed, feet crossed, back against the headboard. You’re still parallel to him, you head about in line with his waist. As he sips from his drink, he plops his right hand down on the bed freely.

Quickly, his bracelets catch your eye. There’s four, a couple metal and a couple textile. You wonder how he came to have them, and why they all look like they’ve been on him for years.

“These old?” You ask, reaching up to tap one. Your fingertips brush his wrist, but he doesn’t flinch. Unable to think better of it, you continue to toy with one of them. It’s braided cord, very worn, frayed at most edges. Your trace the braided pattern over and over, occasionally bumping his skin. The feeling is electrifying, like you’ve just held hands with your childhood crush for the first time. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Mmhm,” he answers. He takes another drink and then watches you play with it.

“Tell me about them,” you touch another one, a thin silver chain with a small gem pendant.

He takes a soft breath.

“Well. The cord one is from Josh. I’ve had it on about a year. Guess he thought it ‘suited my aesthetic’ or whatever,” he chuckles to himself, “The silver one is from my sister. Think I’ve had that one for three or four years.”

You nod and spin it around his wrist, all but holding his hand at this point. The weed has left you without embarrassment as a crutch, and it feels nice to let your fingertips skirt over his skin.

You point to another woven one, a blue and green friendship bracelet.

“That one is from some gas station in Michigan. A few months ago, before this tour started.”

You nod at his answer and point to the last one, a solid silver bangle with a small, ancient looking symbol.

“From my dad,” he smiles, “No idea where he found it. But I love it.”

The bracelets and your fingers graze his skin gently, and you wish you could stay in the moment forever. It’s tender, and it feels safe. You spare a glance up at him and he’s looking at you like he feels the same. Somehow, it’s more intimate than if he were to just kiss you.

“How bout you, hm?” He lifts his wrist and taps the small woven bracelet on your wrist, “Good story?”

“We all have one,” you say, and then realize that you’ve given very little context, “All the girls. Violet made them in the van during one of the rides in between shows.”

“That’s sweet,” he says softly. If it were anyone else, you’d think they were making fun of you. But not him, with the way he says it.

You nod and keep playing with the bracelets on his wrist, spinning them around and around, tracing them. You’ve mesmerized yourself with them. Eventually, the hair tie on his middle finger catches your eye, and you trail your finger down to circle that. His hand twitches slightly under your touch, but then relaxes.

It’s a natural progression, or at least it feels that way, as you begin to trace up and down his fingers with the nail of yours. The touch is gentle, and you intend for it to be soothing. Just when you’re unsure if it’s too much, and you consider stopping, he murmurs,

“Feels nice.”

You look up and his eyes are closed, his head leaned back against the wall. You take the cue and continue to trace over and over the tan skin with care.

Finally after five or so more minutes, you peek back up at him, and he’s grinning at you.

“Hi,” he barely gets it out before he giggles. You laugh back.

“Hi,”

“I’m high.”

“I had no idea,” you burst into an uncontrollable laughter at the sight of him, eyes heavy. He laughs with you.

“Feels nice,” he says again, though you’re not sure now if he’s talking about the high or you touching his hand.

Your arms tired from propping yourself up, you slouch down against the bed, your hair brushing over his hand. Quickly, you realize you’re cold.

“Cold,” you get out, rubbing the goosebumps over your arm. He lifts his hand to skirt a finger over your arm and feel the goosebumps.

“Get under the blanket,” he says, as if you were dumb for not thinking of that solution. You eye him hesitantly, unsure if you should be reading into this.

“Little wing,” he sighs, affectionately rolling his eyes, “Just get under the fucking blanket. You think too much.”

A little shocked, you laugh, but do just that. You slip off the bed and he does the same, and as you both sink under the plush of the down comforter, you realize how close you are.

For a bit you try to focus on Davy Jones and Will Turner, but then the high leaves you craving to touch him, and you can only ration with your brain in its dazed state for so long. You’re pretty sure he won’t freak out, so you let your head fall against his shoulder.

You can feel and hear him inhale, and you brace yourself for rejection, but all he says is

“C’mere,”

It’s soft, and he’s easing his arm behind you, allowing you to sink into his side if you wish. You look at him, and he’s close, and he still looks very high.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we just cuddled,” he says quietly, “S’no big deal.”

You wish he hadn’t said that, because you wish it could be a big deal. You wish it could snowball, with hands and lips everywhere, a culmination of all the little moments. But if he’s letting it be casual, so be it, it’s better than nothing at all.

Like you’ve just crawled through the desert, and like he is a pool of cool water, you fall into him, slotting perfectly against his side. His arm comes around you and rests on your waist.

“This okay?” He murmurs, barely audible over the TV and the blood rushing in your head. You nod against his chest. “You high too?” You nod again. “Good,” he says quietly.

Try as it might, the movie doesn’t hold your attention whatsoever. All you can focus on is the soft rise and fall of his chest, his body heat, his fingertips and their gentle pressure on your side.

It’s unclear when you drift off. When you wake, the TV is playing some 90’s sitcom at a soft volume. The blue glow from the screen washes over Jake’s face, which you’ve propped yourself up to look over.

He looks dreadfully sweet—lips parted slightly, eyelashes creating small shadows in their wake. His hair is messy, like he raked his hand through it shortly before dozing off.

Your eyes land on the digital clock on the nightstand to his side, where the time glares red: 3:34. Jesus christ, you have to be on the road at 7:30.

One last time, you look at him. The irrational part of you, the part of you that craves warmth, wants to curl back into him and say fuck it. But a few deep breaths later, you know that’s not what this is.

Carefully, you try to slip out from under the comforter, shivering as you slide the cover off your torso.

“Hey,” his soft voice breaks through the night air.

Blinking, you turn to make quick eye contact. He’s rubbing one of his eyes, stretching.

“I don’t know when I fell asleep,” you chuckle softly, “Sorry.”

“No,” he shakes his head and plops his hands back into his lap, “S’fine, I did too. You…”

He looks like he wants to say it, too: stay. Or maybe you’re delirious from the late hour. But he chews on his bottom lip a moment, and then pick back up,

“You gotta leave early too, huh?”

You nod, and he nods back.

“Let me walk you down to the lobby,” he murmurs, sliding one of his legs from the comforter. Then he stills.

Suddenly, like a wave of nausea, you are hit with an emotion so unpleasant you fight tears.

If he doesn’t do something now, with you in his hotel bed during the witching hour, craving his touch and so clearly willing, maybe he never will. Maybe it’s just not like that, and this intense and well-fed crush you have is girlish and dumb.

“It’s fine,” you choke out, quickly putting your feet on the ground and searching for your sandals.

“No, I can—“

“It’s fine,” you reiterate, finally kicking on your other shoe and pivoting to the door.

“Hey—“

“Goodnight, Jake,” you get out, hand finding the room door in the dark only based on the rectangle of light coming from the hall.

“Little wing, hey—”

It’s the last thing you hear as the door latches behind you, and barely three steps into the hallway, the hot tears roll down your cheeks.

The bartender in the lobby gives you a concerned look as you rush out the front doors, where you walk a far too long twenty minutes back to your own hotel room.

When you sink into the bed next to Paisley, head pounding, sleep takes you quickly.

-✿✿✿-

In the stark light of the morning, with your head against the bus window, Paisley nudges you about twenty minutes into the drive. Her grin is devilish as she whispers,

“Why’d you come back to the room so late?”

Her look is expectant, much like you were last night. You answer her shakily

“Just lost track of time. Nothing happened.”

She nudges you again and says, “Okay,” with a knowing tone. Instead of arguing, you let your head fall back again my the window. Two more tears escape you before you fiercely wipe them away, determined not to let it get to you. He’s just a boy.

-✿✿✿-

You really should have just gone to the hotel tonight. The lack of sleep from the night before plagues you still after the show, especially on the adrenaline comedown.

But in the spirit of touring, you are convinced by Violet to accompany them to a bar, where you throw back a second vodka cran quickly and accept a hit of Carol’s cigarette.

And then there’s Jake. You can’t quite manage to peel your eyes away from the girl on the bar stool beside him. Her and her charming little grin, the way you can see her lipgloss sparkle from across the way.

Most infuriatingly, the way that Jake gives a wolfish grin back, and his eyes seem darker as he turns to her. The final blow is a flash of his hand skirting over her thigh, dancing over her skin.

Your head snaps to Paisley, “I need a fucking shot.”

She scans your face and seems to sense the panic, but like the sweet being she is, she places a gentle hand on your shoulder and gives a reassuring smile.

“Thought you’d never ask. Lemon drop? Green tea?”

Your head is shaking before her questions are over.

“Whiskey.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip and looks at you, and softly, she starts, “You okay?”

You shake your head again and she nods, going to fetch the shots as you take a shaky breath.

After one more fleeting glance at Jake, with his hand trailing over and over her knee, you swear it off the rest of the evening. There’s nothing you can do; there’s no need to stare at him and cause yourself misery.

“Cheers,” Paisley’s voice is in stereo as she swings around your right side, plopping 4 whiskey shots on the bar table in front of you. “Girls,” she says to get the other’s attention, divvying up the shots.

“Whiskey?” Carol scowls, holding it up in front of her.

“Oh hush,” Paisley smarts, “I said, cheers!”

You clink shot glasses and throw it back, willing the tears away in your eyes. The burn of the liquor does just that, and when you slam the glass down, a small smile finds its way to your face.

When you meet Paisley’s eyes, she’s giving you an inquisitive look. She must read your face.

“I’ll go get some more,” she says, turning back to the bar. You nod and take a sip of your third drink. You can absolutely feel it, so you should probably slow down, but it’s helping squash the anger that had bubbled up in you.

After Paisley returns with the second shot, and after it trials a warm path down your throat, you give her a wide smile. You feel fuzzy and nice.

“There we go,” Paisley giggles and tussles your hair, “Better?”

You nod, giggling.

“Good,” she smile. Her next words are softer, “Forget about him, babe. He’s an idiot, and you’re a hot rockstar.”

She means well, but it makes your chest ache a bit. You push it away with a nod as she pats your shoulder.

Not long after, the room spins. You really should have seen it coming, perhaps you even did, but it hits all at once.

“Paisley,” it slurs out of you, “Gotta go outside.”

Her hair whips everywhere as she spins her head to look at you, her eyeliner smudged and her eyes heavy from the presumable weed she smoked in the bathroom.

“Need me to come?”

You shake your head, giving her a salute as you back away.

“Be safe,” she points a serious finger at you, “Go straight to the hotel.”

Nodding, you make a swift exit into the warm air of the night. You’re somewhere in the desert now, and the air is dry and cool. You inhale it as deep as you can as you watch the neon from the bar signs across the street flicker. They’re pink and green, and it feels like outer space, which makes you giggle.

Willing the nausea away, you begin the short walk to the hotel, and try not to think about Jake. Inevitably, your inebriated brain does not listen, and you’re stuck between wanting to hate him, and wanting his hands all over you.

It’s still on your mind as you open your hotel door, as you slip inside the room and kick off your boots. You stare at the hotel bed, the empty, glaring white sheets. And you don’t want to lay in it alone.

Instead, you squint to look around the room for the ice bucket. You’ll waste some time getting ice and a drink from the vending machine, and perhaps by then, your mind will settle down.

Slipping the key card in the pocket of your denim skirt, you enter the hallway, barefoot and pleasantly drunk. You trudge to the ice room, offering the empty bucket to it for filling. Unable to resist the urge, you pop one of the cold cubes into your mouth and crunch. It’s refreshing, and you smile to yourself as you make your way back out.

There’s a figure in the hallway, about half way down and blurry, and you wonder to yourself for a moment if it really is him, or if you’re that drunk.

You turn to disregard it, to head to the vending machine, but sure enough;

“Hey.”

His voice is warm, and so wonderfully gentle. You hate how gentle it is.

You turn back, against your own will. And there’s Jake, wandering the few feet down the hall to you, dragging his hand through his messy hair.

“Hi.” You answer back, popping another ice cube in your mouth. He stops a few feet ahead of you and gives you a once over, and that shit eating grin appears on his face.

“No shoes?” He nods down at your feet.

Swallowing the water in your mouth, you nod and hold up the bucket, “Just wanted ice.”

He nods and rubs his hand over his flushed cheek. He’s drunk too.

“Wanna come in? I have drinks in the mini fridge,” he jabs his thumb in the vicinity of his hotel room.

You are silent for a long time, far too long for a normal conversation. You’re attempting to weight all of the options: should you, shouldn’t you, who cares, should you care, etc, until finally he breaks the silence:

“I’m just offering you a nightcap, I’m not gonna eat you alive, doll.” He smirks, and jesus christ, you wish it didn’t make your stomach turn the way it does.

You try to stay upset at him as he winks. Reluctantly, with an eye roll, you move to follow him to the room. He holds the door open wordlessly.

“Did you have a fun night?” you ask with a tone, walking in and setting the ice bucket on the desk. Might as well get the dig in before the liquor catches up to you fully, and you’re too drunk to be witty.

He nods and throws his phone and wallet on the bed, “You?”

You give a curt not back.

“You want a drink?” He offers.

“No liquor,” you sigh, “Already drunk.”

He nods and starts to fetch a sprite from the fridge, cracking it open as he hands it to you. His hands are large, you notice for the hundredth time. His fingers are long.

“So, why’d you ask like that? He says, reaching for his own soda. You step close to him, probably too much so, but it’s like he’s got his own god damn gravitational pull. When he comes back up from the fridge, you’re a few feet away.

“What?” you ask.

“How my night was,” he clarifies, cracking his soda can open and leaning with one arm against the hotel furniture. He takes a long sip.

You shrug at his question, “Just seems like you had a fun time,” you raise your brows and take another sip. You’re being petty, but you don’t care.

He studies your face for a moment and scrunches his brow down, pressing his lips together. After a second, he shakes his head,

“Just say it, whatever it is you’re not saying.”

You blink at him. You should leave, probably. But the words pour from you before you can stop. You set your soda down on the desk with some level of aggression. He sets his down too, softer.

“You played with my hair,” you say, emotion creeping up in your voice.

He watches you, his lips parted, his drunk mind trying to understand what has just come out of your mouth.

“You said I have a sunset aura. We fell asleep together.”

The thoughts are disjointed, but it’s what comes to your mind.

“I thought you liked me,” you finally get it out—the meat of what you’re trying to say. You feel embarrassed, childish and petulant, “I thought—”

Your throat begins to shut as tears start in your eyes. The embarrassment is combusting into anger, fueled by the alcohol.

“I thought—”

“I do,” he interjects before you can say it again, “I do like you.”

You’re in stunned silence for a moment at the admission, but then the words find you.

“Then why the other girl?” You force the words out through your tight throat, though they wobble, “Why—why do that when I was in your bed last night? You had me.”

He winces at that, barely, but you see it. He licks his lips and furrows his brow more, standing with a hand hooked through one of his belt loops. He doesn’t seem angry, though, maybe confused.

“Little wing,” he sighs finally, with such a genuine regret in his voice that you almost soften, “I don’t know,” he rubs his face over his hand, “I just flirt, I don’t—”

“You could flirt with me,” you know it comes out harsh and borderline desperate, but the liquor has ripped down your walls, and your frustration is glowing hot at the surface.

“It’s not just that, I just—,” he sucks in a breath and shakes his head, “I’m fucking drunk, doll, I don’t—“

“Spit it out, Jake,” you have no patience for niceties.

“I just wanted a hook up,” he blurts, “But I didn’t, I mean, obviously, I’m here,” he holds his hands out at the room, “I just—”

“What is this, Jake?” Forget soft, you’re angry now, “You like me but don’t want to hook up with me? I didn’t ask you if you wanted to be friends, I asked if you like me—”

“I do,” His voice is soft and his eyes are sad, and as he says it, he steps forward and touches your cheek. Try as you might to maintain your anger, the touch takes your breath. You want it: you want him to be soft with you, to touch you like that.

“I do,” he repeats as he strokes over your cheek with his thumb, gentle as a breeze, “You do remind me of a sunset. Little wing, I fucking—” he laughs, breathless, and you can do nothing but watch, “I’m damn near obsessed with you.”

Out of your stunned silence, you manage a hushed response, “Then why not me? At the bar…I…your hand…”

He shakes his head solemnly and strokes your cheek again, “Because I don’t—I don’t know how to do that, doll. I don’t really…I just usually fuck girls and then that’s it. I’m not really used to much more, y’know, with the touring, and,” he sucks in a breath, collecting himself, “And I don’t want to do that with you.”

“I…” you search for words that never come, “Jake…,”

“You’re too sweet,” he’s suddenly so close, leaning in with whisky on his breath. His cheek nuzzles yours, “You’re so fucking…sweet, fucking beautiful, and feminine,” his lips drag over your cheekbone, “talented, special, pretty little thing…”

“Jake…” it’s all you can manage.

“And I can’t…” he nips at your jaw and your head is spinning, “Fuck, I can’t do… that… to you,”

“Why?” it comes out as a whimper, “Why can’t we?”

You can’t bring yourself to care about any of his cryptic warnings: you just want him.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t—I’m drunk, this isn’t—“ His hand leaves your jaw and he pulls away.

You tighten your fist into his jacket lapels, strangling the black leather fringe, and he suddenly comes to, his eyes locking on yours.

“What are you scared of?” You bite out.

He sucks in a breath and his eyes scan over your face.

“I’m drunk, doll, I really…we should really talk when I’m not.”

“Why? So you can phrase it better? Just say it,”

He licks his lips, “I don’t want to mess this up. I like my time with you, I like how we just…how easy it is. It’s sweet. I don’t wanna ruin it. I don’t wanna fuck and then never talk again, or make it all complicated, or…” he shakes his head, “I just wanted it to stay sweet.”

The admission is gentle, and you ease up on him, speaking softer.

“I didn’t take you as careful.”

“It’s just you, little wing,” his eyes scan your face, soft brown and kind, “Just with you.”

The silence invites a palpable tension, suspended between both of your anticipating glances.

As precautious as he speaks, it seems his body cannot help but surrender to the temptation, and he leans in again. Feather soft, his lips brush yours. You can feel his breath, and the scent of him is dizzying.

“M’sorry,” he’s slurring suddenly, “I’m—um…” he falls silent and he moves to rest his forehead against your temple. You can feel his shaking breath.

Your heads are pressed together, breathing against each others necks. In your chest, your heart is a drum.

You know you should be sorry too; this isn’t how you want to kiss him for the first time. But he smells so good, and his skin is warm, and his hands on your waist are making your spine tingle, and you can’t care about anything that should or shouldn’t happen.

“Jake?” you sigh.

“Yeah?” his voice sounds strained.

“Can you stop being sorry and just fucking kiss me?” you hiss against his jaw.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, slamming back into you. His lips are hungry, and you’re needy.

His hands are against your bare ribs as he licks into your mouth, and his palms pressed warm against your skin makes a heat flare in your stomach.

He backs you up a couple feet to push you up against the wall as he kisses down your neck. His hands are wandering, skirting hesitatingly over your breasts, his thumb dips under your skirt hem into your navel and then retreats. His hand falls to your hip, flirting with the hem of your skirt. Your legs open for him and it makes him whine.

“Can I—“ he swallows.

“Please,”

His hand moves along the front of your thigh, and then it’s between them, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin slowly. Then, it moves up to your panties, touching softly over you.

“Warm,” he breathes, like he didn’t even mean to say it aloud.

“Jake,” you whine, “Please.”

“Oh,” it’s nearly a whine, and his eyes are squeezed shut, “Don’t say my name like that, doll, or this is gonna get out of hand quick.”

The words make your legs clamp together around his hand.

“You like the thought of that, huh?” He nips at your ear, “Don’t tempt me. Let’s not—“ there’s a sharp inhale as his thumb brushes the hem of your panties, nearly dipping his finger under the fabric, “Let’s not get carried away.”

“Why can’t we?”

“Jesus christ, little wing, you’re makin’ this hard for me,” he withdraws his thumb and skirts it over the front of your panties, “You don’t—“ his breath hitches, and he looks directly into your eyes, “You don’t wanna wait?”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, “I just—fuck, I just didn’t want it to be like this,”

“What do you want?” You ask, and you mean it. He draws his hand away from your thigh.

“I’m not good at this, like I said, I just—I don’t know what this looks like tomorrow if we do that tonight.”

“I want you to want me bad enough to not care about any of that,” it comes out of you before you can decide better.

“Oh, doll,” he’s breathless, shaking his head. He meets you in another desperate kiss, and okay, maybe you’ll believe him.

“I want you,” he says it with a shudder in his breath. The back of his hand graces your cheek, “God, do I want you,” he looks at your for a long moment in silence before he takes your hand and brings it down to the front of his jeans, where you can feel the hard warmth of him beneath the clasp. It makes your cheeks hot.

“See?” He slots your fingers with his, then, “ But I can’t not care…” he kisses your cheek, “Even drunk, I know that.”

“Please?” You give him doe eyes, and you reach for his hand, placing it back on the hem of your skirt, “Jake, I…please, touch me.”

“Listen to you,” his eyes roll back in his head, “Fuck, I don’t even recognize myself, I normally…mm, jesus you’re hard to resist,”

He takes a deep breath, and then removes both of his hands, holding them up in the air as he releases the breath. They come back to cradle your face.

“Doll…,” he says softly, “Not tonight. I’m sorry, I wish—“ he clears his throat, “You’re welcome to stay here, but I can’t do that tonight,”

He shocks you with the display of reservation, and suddenly you’re hit with a wave of embarrassment.

He can tell.

“Hey,” he kisses you softly, “It’s alright. Just—I can’t do that with you like this. It’s not fair to you.”

You nod softly and embarrassed tears begin to sting at your eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he wipes them with his thumb and kisses you again, so tender your heart aches, and you want to be mad but all you can do is kiss back.

“You can stay here,” he says against your lip, “I can hold you.”

The thought of laying there with him after all this makes you almost frantic, you wish it could go any other way.

For the second night in a row, he’s sighing as you turn away.

“Little wing,”

It’s sad, and in the pit of your stomach, nausea brews. You’re already walking away when he repeats it, and because your body cannot help it, you turn back to him.

“What?” it’s far harsher than you meant; you can see it in the way he recoils that it stings.

“You can stay,” he offers again, “Please—I—It’s alright, I promise.”

A thousand replies run through your mind, but you settle on a heavy breath. You don’t think even if you could put the disappointment into words, that he might understand, or that it might make any difference. You don’t want to spend the night chastely laying beside him while you wonder again if he wants you the same way you want him. So you don’t.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you say softly, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes.

And for the second night in a row, you let the hotel door shut as he’s saying the nickname again.

“Little wing—”

fin.

-✿-

tag list <3

@starshine-wagner @dannywagners-chesthair @writingcold @kels-gvf @aconfusedhippie @fearless-wanderer @thehourbeforesunrise @madz-0217 @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @rhythm-of-space @milkgemini @st4rdust-ch0rds @myownparadise96 @gretavanfleas @josh-iamyour-mama @spark-my-nature @saltydogkiszka @jordierama @sammiejane22 @jakekiszkastaurussuit @jake-kiszkas-smirk @babyhoneygvfarchive @gabyvanfleet @gretavanslutz @dannyandthekiszkas @freckled-wonderland @why-ami-on-here @kay-jordan @pr41sethemoon @watchingovergvf2 @gretavandann @cornychip @gabbiegvf @almost-a-ladybug @gretavanbear @laurenlovesgretavanfleet @jaketlover @dykejake

#gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fics #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #little wing jake

[here2bbtstrash]

look down on me like that - 6 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 6.2k

contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! alcohol mention, some mildly twisty conversations about consent/regretting sex (everything in this series is very consensual tho just wanna reiterate), teasing, dirty talk, VERY semi-public sex with risk of being heard/caught, fingering, lowkey fingerwarming, hold the moan, light choking, finger sucking, dumbification if you rly squint, protected sex (in the office... oop 👀), fucking against a door lmao 🙌🏻

A/N: sooooo excited to post this hehe 💜 i know this chap is a lil bit of a shorty but they can't all be 11k, and i'm trying to give y'all a mild refractory period before we launch into even more chaos 💀 AND SORRY NOT SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER ENDING..... i promise i won't keep you hanging for long 😘

read on AO3!

chapter five | masterlist | chapter seven

~*~

“So… it’s been nearly a week,” Jimin prompts just as you tip your head back to take a long swig of your beer. The bratty tone in your best friend’s voice only encourages you to chug another swallow before you set the glass back down. He doesn’t even have to say the since you fucked your coworker part out loud.

Using the provided scissors and tongs, he starts to cut up the strips of pork belly laid flat on the grill between you. “When’s the wedding? Have you named your kids yet?”

“I can’t stand you,” you whine, torn between wanting to kick him under the table and wanting him to share the meat he’s been so carefully preparing. The aroma is making your mouth water as it sizzles on the hot surface.

You settle for fixing him with your best death glare.

Jimin shrugs, unbothered. “That’s fine. I just wanna know how you’re handling the fact that you are now officially sleeping with the enemy.”

“Aht aht. Slept with.” You raise a finger to correct him, using your other hand to maneuver your chopsticks to pick up a marinated cucumber and pop it into your mouth. “Past tense.”

Jimin purses his lips, looking unconvinced. “Is that so?”

“Are you kidding me?” You make a face. “It was a moment of weakness, and now it’s done. What would be the point in letting him have it again? In letting him win like that?” You wave a hand dismissively. “Absolutely not.”

“You are so dumb,” Jimin laughs as he starts to extoll pork onto your plate. “I cannot believe you found good dick and now you’re actively declining it. After how insane you nearly went? You think that won’t happen again?”

“I got it out of my system,” you say with a proud shake of your head, popping a piece of meat into your mouth. It’s so hot it nearly burns your tongue off, but the flavor is well worth it, and you continue with your mouth full. “And I’m good. Moving on with my life.”

Jimin hums like he doesn’t believe a damn word. “And how’s that gonna work out for you in a couple weeks, when you and Suga are in Los Angeles together, breathing that sweet American air? And sharing a hotel room that just so happens to only have one bed?”

With the pork belly successfully secured on your plate, you have no reason to hold back from kicking him this time. “You watch too much TV.”

“Speaking of!” He pauses with food halfway to his mouth, dropping it back onto his plate as he digs into his pocket for his phone. “My comps finally came in for the show I’m dancing in this weekend. I’m not even going to ask if you have plans because I already know the answer, so you better fucking be there.”

You pick up your phone to see his text come in, face scrunching up as you chew. “Two questions,” you prompt. “One, I fail to see what this has to do with watching TV. And two, why did you send me two tickets?”

Jimin rests his elbows on the table, fingers laced together under his chin, somewhere in between posing cutely and looking like he’s about to read you for filth.

“Out of the kindness of my heart, because I am such a good fucking friend, I am giving you a chance for a little Business Proposal moment. Bring your Suga, see what happens.” He shrugs a shoulder. “One concert could change everything, you know?”

You grind your teeth together and reach for your drink as he uses your favorite show against you, humming the theme tune under his breath. “I really hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately. But I am not bringing Suga to your fucking concert,” you clarify, glass halfway to your mouth. “There is a world of difference between wanting to fuck someone and wanting to spend an evening with them.”

“So you do still want to fuck him,” Jimin presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows. “Very interesting.”

“Don’t make me leave you with the bill.” You roll your eyes and down the rest of your beer in one swig.

An hour later, you’ve eaten your body weight in grilled meats and have thrown back enough beers that the world blurs gently at the edges, vignetted, as you slip out onto the sidewalk and say goodnight to your best friend.

You’d managed to convince Jimin to meet at the place that’s just a few blocks from your apartment, and it’s not a terribly cold evening, all things considered. The alcohol certainly helps keep you warm as you make the short walk back home, the still-busy streets humming and blinking soft around you.

It takes a concentrated effort to use your phone without tripping in your current state, and you thumb slowly through your texts until you land on the concert tickets from Jimin. When his words echo again in your brain, you do your best to chase them off with a frustrated sigh.

It will be a cold day in hell before you voluntarily spend an evening with Yoongi, you tell yourself. But it’d be nice to go with someone.

You’re scrolling down your contact list and lifting the ringing phone to your ear before you can decide whether or not it’s a good idea.

After two rings, the line connects, and a voice answers. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jungkook.” You giggle a little despite yourself. You’ve never spoken to your coworker in any state of inebriation before, and once his name leaves your mouth, you realize you’re a little more fucked up than you bargained for. But it’s fine, you tell yourself. You’re fine.

“Hi— is everything okay?”

You double-blink, not expecting the check-in. “Yeah, no, everything’s great.” It only occurs to you now that maybe you’ve interrupted whatever his post-work plans might be. “Sorry, I— were you in the middle of something?”

He lets out a sheepish laugh, and you imagine that his cheeks are flushed pink, the way they sometimes get after boxing class. “Nothing important. I was brushing my dog’s teeth, actually. You just, uh, usually text—”

“Wait,” you fully interrupt him. “You have a dog?”

“I have three dogs,” he corrects, with another light laugh that’s almost musical. “My sons.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in mock-anger. “I am hurt and betrayed that you have kept this information from me!”

“I’m sorry!” He giggles back, clearly flustered. “It didn’t come up! I’ll send you some pictures, I promise. They’re very cute.”

“You better,” you huff. “And here I was getting ready to be nice to you.”

“Oh?” Jungkook sounds intrigued. There’s a soft shifting sound on the line, and you find yourself wondering if he’s laying down in bed, phone pressed to his cheek. The image makes your heart sink a little, and you shove the feeling away to process when you’re less tipsy. “How were you going to be nice?”

You pause for a moment to cross the street, letting your fake-hurt charade drop. “Well, my best friend is a dancer, and he was booked to perform in this concert that’s happening tomorrow night. He gave me a free ticket and an extra, and I was wondering, if you’re not doing anything… if you want to go with me?”

“Yeah, for sure!” You swear you can hear Jungkook’s smile light up the phone. “That sounds awesome.”

You linger at the front of your apartment building, phone tucked to your ear, watching cars and bicyclists roll by in the neon smear of the city at night. “Awesome,” you repeat back. “I’ll text you my address if you want to come pick me up after work?” A little bubble of excitement floats up and pops in your chest.

“I can definitely do that.”

~*~

“You need to fill all this out for the Grammy’s trip.”

The large stack of registration paperwork lands on Yoongi’s desk with a resounding thud, but he doesn’t so much as bat an eye. Though you’ve put on a brave face and moved back to your desk in the lobby after the happy hour incident, you’ve still avoided any alone time with the genius in his lab, as much as you can help it.

Today, it could not be helped. Especially given your need for a change in schedule.

“And I’m leaving early tonight.” You add, trying to feign confidence, just be direct and to the point. “I need you out of here at five, Yoongi.”

He grunts a noncommittal response, but doesn’t look up from the screen of his computer. His eyes are squinting slightly at the tracks on his mixing software. You wonder for a moment if maybe he needs glasses.

You furrow your brow as soon as you process the thought—what the fuck do you care about this man’s eyesight? You give your head a subtle shake in hopes of dislodging the idea.

Yoongi waves a hand silently, as if to imply you’re dismissed.

You really don’t know what makes you say it. “Jungkook and I are going to a concert.”

At this, Yoongi’s concentration seems to falter. He glances away from the screen, head tilting slightly to one side as he eyes you. “A date with Kookie, huh? Cute. I knew you two would get there eventually.”

You’re not sure what other conclusion you expected him to draw from the information, but suddenly your face is hot. You have to suppress the physical urge to squirm in frustration, to literally stomp your feet like a toddler.

“Can you just be normal?” You snap. “It’s not like that. Not everyone wants to fuck their coworkers all the time.”

He spins a quarter-circle in his chair to fully face you with an eyebrow raised. “Does Jungkook know it’s not like that?”

You stammer at being put on the spot. “I-I’m sure he does.”

Yoongi blinks lazily at you. “Uh huh.”

Rage flares up in your gut before you can stop it. “Jungkook is a nice guy. He’s not a boundary-crossing creep like you.” The words sting like acid as they leave your mouth. 

Yoongi gets to his feet so quickly you barely have time to process it.

For every step he takes towards you, you take one towards the door of his lab, walking backwards. “You know,” he mutters darkly, “I liked your mouth a lot better when it was on my cock.”

Your back finds purchase against the closed door, and you swallow hard, refusing to show fear.  “Well, remember it fondly, because I’m not making that mistake twice.”

Yoongi falls quiet for a moment, eyes searching yours. You’re a little surprised when he takes a step back. “Do you really feel like I violated a boundary?” His voice is flat, nearly monotone, when he asks the question.

You fumble for your words, for the truth; both are hard to find. “I-I don’t know.”

He surveys you with an expression you can’t decipher. “I gave you plenty of opportunity to say no. Do you feel like you were too drunk?”

“No. I mean, I consented. I’m not saying I didn’t. I just… we’re coworkers.”

“I’m aware. You called it a mistake. Do you regret it?”

“Do you?”

He huffs a dry laugh. “You keep acting like I’m not stating it plainly here. I would love to fuck you senseless again any time, sweetheart.” The pet name is biting. “I’d take you right up against this door, if you wanted. But not if you’re going to regret it.”

Your mind swims as you try to make sense of this conversation. “What if I don’t?”

Yoongi takes a single step closer to you. “Well, then I’d ask you when you want it again.”

The expression on his face, as if he’s won some smug game, is endlessly infuriating. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “And what makes you think I’ll just give it up again?”

He just keeps smirking, eyes locked on you. “You tell me. I’m the one asking permission here.”

You tilt your chin up towards Yoongi, suddenly very aware of how close he is to you. Something in you pulls taught as you recall your conversation in the bathroom after he nearly came in your mouth.

“If you want it so bad, then beg for it.” The words spark between your teeth as you say them.

There’s a glint in Yoongi’s eyes, and a muscle in his jaw jumps, as if he wasn’t expecting that response. Then he slowly starts to nod. “Is that what you want?”

You refuse to look away. “Did I stutter?”

His tongue darts out briefly to wet his lips, and then he laughs an exhale, a single indignant breath. Eye contact never faltering, you watch as he drops to his knees in front of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asks. The silence of the room hangs heavy between you, roaring in your ears like white noise. Yoongi blinks once, dark lashes fluttering. “Please?”

You feel some last mechanism of inner restraint shatter as you nod.

Yoongi’s touch is deliberate but, surprisingly, not rough. His palms meet the backs of your thighs and begin to slide up, encouraging you to pull your hips off the door and allow him room, your shoulders still pressed flush against the wood behind you.

His hands keep moving, slipping under the back of your dress with no hesitation, only stopping when he finds what he’s looking for: the band of your panties, which he hooks his thumbs under and swiftly pulls down your legs, leaving the lacy fabric to pool around your ankles. You shift to kick them off and suddenly realize your mouth has gone dry.

“Do I have to use my words?” Yoongi asks, voice low. His hands retrace their path back up your thighs, but he takes his time with it now. You hate the way your breath is starting to go shaky from his touch.

“What else would you use?”

“My tongue.”

Yoongi has pushed the hem of your dress up, his mouth devastatingly close to your center and his hands cupping your ass. He stares up at you, waiting patiently for a response, dark eyes brimming with want.

You’re still not even sure of your answer as you start to say it, but then a firm knock at the door cuts you off, loud enough to rattle your brain inside your skull. Ice floods your veins as your eyes go wide.

“Min Suga?” Jungkook’s voice calls from the other side.

Your breath hitches in your chest. This can’t be happening.

“Hey, JK,” Yoongi calls, not moving from where he’s knelt on the floor in front of you, both hands still firmly grabbing your ass. “Sorry, I’ve–” he glances pointedly up at you, and it takes everything you have not to slap him when he continues, “I’ve kinda got my hands full right now. What’s up?”

“No worries, you gave me the code, remember?” Your stomach twists violently as you hear the distinct beeping of Jungkook starting to type into the number pad.

You tear your gaze away from Yoongi to your lacy underwear, in plain sight, too far away that you can’t possibly retrieve them in the mere seconds you have to react.

Adrenaline surges through you, enough to make you lightheaded, to make your limbs go numb. There’s no time to do anything. You flatten yourself against the door as the handle starts to turn and the overwhelming urge to cry rushes up into your chest.

Yoongi seems to finally take the situation seriously, because in a flash, he’s on his feet, arms caging you in on either side to push firmly back against the door. His forearms peek out from under the short sleeves of his black t-shirt— you can see the defined muscles there flex and work, the way his veins bulge under his pale skin as he presses all his weight into the door with a look of real, concentrated effort.

Fuck. You’re not sure you’ve ever been simultaneously aroused and on the verge of tears before.

“Sorry, Jungkook,” Yoongi tries again, and you can hear him attempting to keep the strain out of his voice. “I’m, uh– redecorating a bit in here. I’ve got some stuff blocking the door right now. Can we just talk like this?”

“Oh yeah, sure, okay!” Jungkook answers brightly. You squeeze your eyes shut, desperately willing this nightmare to be over. While you’re pretty sure Jungkook won’t try the door again, an animalistic part of you is still too terrified to do anything, frozen in fear at what nearly just happened.

You’re only distantly aware of Jungkook babbling on about work. “I’ve got a few questions about upcoming release scheduling, so I can know what content we need to get ready. Can you talk me through the rest of Q1 real quick? Just so I know what’s coming when.”

A shiver runs through you at the feeling of a touch, so barely-there that at first you think you might be imagining it.

Your eyes flutter open to find one of Yoongi’s large hands pressed to your throat, delicate fingers splayed over the column of your neck.

It could be aggressive, but it’s not. Decidedly not. His touch is featherlight, and he applies no pressure to your windpipe. If anything, the gentle weight of his hand is oddly… comforting. A word you would never have thought to associate with Min fucking Yoongi before this moment.

The silver chain bracelet on his wrist winks in the soft purple glow of his studio lights, and you stare at it in a daze, entranced. You can feel your adrenaline high beginning to crash: the world feels muted, faded, far away.

“Go ahead, Jungkook,” Yoongi prompts, and you wonder if you’re imagining that his voice has softened just the slightest bit.

You drag your gaze up to him as he starts to talk through scheduling with Jungkook, his tone all business. He’s not looking at you, eyes instead fixed firmly on the door in front of him, occasionally rolling up to glance at the ceiling when he’s trying to recall something.

As your heart rate starts to settle, you take a moment to drink in Yoongi’s features unobserved. The line of his jaw. The slight furrow of his brow. His full, pink lips.

Your throat jumps when you swallow under his touch, and he doesn’t look down, but his hand begins to move. His palm stays heavy over the slope of your throat, but his fingers and thumb move smoothly, tracing faint patterns over your skin, stroking along the muscles of your neck and setting every last one of your nerve endings alight.

Your eyes are heavy-lidded with lust now, and your head tips back against the door, all thoughts blotted out at his touch. Fuck, it feels good.

A gasp slips past your lips when you feel Yoongi’s other hand brush over your leg, and you pray the door is thick enough that the sound doesn’t carry. He’s still talking through scheduling with Jungkook, answering questions as calmly as ever, as his whole palm comes to rest on one of your thighs below the hem of your dress, fingers just barely teasing under the fabric.

When Yoongi finally meets your gaze, his dark eyes pierce straight through you, as if to pin you to the door. He raises one eyebrow in a silent question, and the meaning is unmistakable: another request for permission.

Arousal rolls through you like a riptide, and you’re dragged under before you can even think to fight it. The dramatics of the previous close call linger— it feels like you’ll die if he doesn’t touch you right now. The fact that you shouldn’t be doing this only makes you want it more.

You don’t look away as you nod your consent.

You spread your legs to allow him room, hips tilting up, and Yoongi slips his hand under your dress to snake between your parted thighs. Fresh desire mixes with the cotton-numb fuzz of dwindling panic in your brain, the knowledge that Jungkook is still inches away from you and talking as Yoongi’s hand approaches your center. You have to bite down on your bottom lip at the first brush of contact.

Their conversation continues on, but you don’t process a word of it.

Yoongi traces two fingers gently over the lips of your cunt, teasing devastatingly close to your clit before moving down to circle at your entrance, where he slicks them in the wetness that has already started to pool there.

He keeps his movements so slow, his touch so light; your mind belatedly catches up to realize that anything more will surely start to elicit an audible sound.

You wonder if maybe this is it, if he’s just going to torture you, his fingers running through your folds in long strokes that have your core throbbing until you can’t take it anymore. And then he laughs a little at a comment Jungkook makes and uses the moment of sound coverage to deftly press those two fingers into you.

You bite down even harder on your lower lip in an attempt to stay quiet. Yoongi’s fingers push in to the hilt, long and thick enough to fill you up entirely. It’s all you can do to keep your breathing steady— the feeling of him inside of you jolts through you with every inhale.

Desperate for movement and nearly shaking with hypersensitivity, you clench your pussy around his fingers in a silent plea for more.

As if in response, the hand around your throat just barely tightens. You don’t know whether to read it as encouragement or a warning, but it makes your eyes flutter closed all the same.

His fingers begin to curl at a truly torturous pace, and then they press so firmly into your g-spot that your knees nearly buckle.

You’re hardly cognizant of the room around you anymore, or the wood of the door digging into your back; nothing else seems to matter in this moment except the weight of Yoongi’s fingers and the way your walls grip tightly around them.

Your eyes snap open again when his other hand suddenly leaves your throat. You feel exposed without it, but you shiver all over as the warmth of his palm trails along your collarbone before traveling down the slope of your body to settle at your waist.

As soon as that hand stills, the other pulls back from the heat of your cunt, and he brings his fingers up to brush over your bottom lip. His eyes roam hungrily over your face as he asks another silent question.

You open your mouth like a reflex, and you willingly let Yoongi pet the taste of you over your tongue. Your lips close around his fingers, and your gaze stays locked with his as you hollow your cheeks to suck diligently, swallowing down your own slickness.

With a heady groan, he withdraws, leaning forward to brace the same hand against the door just next to your head.

It occurs to you now that he’s no longer speaking, no longer afraid of making noise. Jungkook must have left– you can’t say when that happened.

The returning silence of the room pulses like a heartbeat. Yoongi is hovering over you, lips slightly parted, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath, and you swear the distance between you is narrowing by the second.

“Nervous?” He murmurs, so quiet you easily could’ve imagined it.

“Fuck me.” Your voice comes out a little hoarse.

“Hmm?” Yoongi freezes where he is, sounding almost dazed when he hums the question. Just shy of your mouth but invitingly, dangerously close.

Your hands are already fumbling to undo the buckle of his belt. “I said fuck me, Yoongi,” you snap. “Up against this door. Before I change my mind.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth just barely pulls up. “God, you’re bossy,” he murmurs, but then his arm is no longer caging you against the door, and he makes quick work of getting his pants and boxers pushed down.

When he backs off, you draw in a breath that’s like coming up for air.

Your head reels a little when you see that he’s fully hard and starting to drip precum: you’re not sure when that happened, either. He retrieves a condom from his wallet and makes short work of tearing it open with his teeth.

The thought of his mouth so close to yours again is terrifying in a way you don’t have words for. Before he can step back towards you, you turn and press both hands flush with the door. You reach down briefly to hike the hem of your dress up over your hips.

It’s mildly humiliating to present yourself like this for him, exposed, back arched, your pussy aroused enough to slick your thighs and just waiting to be filled again. And yet, not unlike the risk of getting caught, the shame only makes it hotter, in some twisted way.

​​Yoongi braces one hand against the door, gripping your hip tightly with the other. You breathe in shallow gasps as his cock teases your entrance, and then he slowly starts to press into you.

“Shit, Yoongi,” you whine softly, overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you open. The stretch of him makes your eyes roll back in your head, just as perfect as you remember, and all you can do is take it. When he bottoms out, you do your best to bite back a moan, wiggling your ass to fully sheathe him inside of you, wanting every inch.

“Fuck,” he hisses. You whimper again in response.

“We still have to be pretty quiet— these walls aren’t that thick. Guess you can’t scream my name this time.” His voice is dark, sardonic, and you grit your teeth as you look at him over your shoulder.

“Will you shut up and fuck me?”

“Didn’t realize you were my manager,” he huffs, but then he starts to thrust, hard and fast, and you choke on a barely-suppressed noise. You arch up higher to push back on him, your body begging silently for it, your walls fluttering as the thick head of his cock drags over your g-spot again and again.

Yoongi’s hand on your hip shifts, fingers splaying over the soft flesh of your ass, digging in hard enough to bruise. You inhale sharply at the sweet sparks of pleasure-pain, already edged close and losing the fight to stay quiet.

“How does it feel?”

You’re surprised by the question, and even more so at the sincerity with which Yoongi seems to ask it, voice low in his throat and a little raw. You have to scramble to find words through the haze of your impending climax.

“I-it’s good,” you manage. His hips snap into you even harder and you gasp again. “Fuck, really good.”

He exhales a dark laugh. “Yeah, I can tell. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, shit.”

Your head nearly smacks against the door from how forcefully his cock is now pounding into your tight heat. You roll your eyes– of course he wasn’t sincerely asking. You want to kick yourself for even entertaining the idea that Min Yoongi could be anything other than a selfish asshole.

Despite that fact, his rough, relentless thrusts are enough to leave you breathless, and the pleasure builds hot and fast in your core. Your head is spinning, and a shiver rips through you when you suddenly feel his breath over your neck, hear his voice in your ear.

“Gonna think about getting fucked like this on your date tonight?”

The stifled whine you let out and the way your pussy throbs around him betray any denial you could’ve tried to make. You look back over your shoulder at him, attempting to say something, anything, and then Yoongi’s hand slips down to circle your clit and you lose the ability to think coherently at all.

“Wanna feel you come on my cock,” Yoongi murmurs, and you swear your legs almost give out.

It’s just white-hot pleasure now, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth and sob into it as your orgasm crests, your thighs shaking violently under his touch.

“Fuuuck,” Yoongi groans hoarsely as you start to pulse around him, over and over. His breathing comes in ragged gasps that match the pace of his hips as he keeps rutting into you, until he pushes all the way in with a last grunt of effort and you milk his release out with yours.

You slump forward, heart racing, and brace your forearms on the door to let your head loll between them. Yoongi stays stationary for a moment too, the hand on your hip absent-mindedly kneading into your skin, before he finally shifts and withdraws from your still-quivering cunt.

With a steadying exhale, you slowly right yourself on shaking legs while he steps away to deal with the condom.

Once your path is clear, you don’t wait around to suffer any small talk. You move to retrieve your panties off the floor and pull them back on with the last scrap of dignity you can manage. Then you shove your dress down over your hips and cross back to the door.

You leave without a second glance back at Yoongi. 

When you emerge from the Genius Lab, you make an immediate beeline for the bathroom, which is thankfully empty. It’s only once you press your palms flat against the cool marble countertop of the sink that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to make a conscious effort not to hyperventilate.

Your mind is racing as you take in your reflection in the mirror and attempt to put yourself back together, trying your best to look like you didn’t just get fucked against a door.

A door in the office. Because you are at work. Where you just had sex with a coworker you hate.

The realization of what you just did, how stupid you just were, hits you like a train. Fuck. You’re met with the overwhelming urge to scream at yourself. What is wrong with you? Your eyes roam over your own face, as if you might find the answer hidden there somewhere; your bottom lip is slightly swollen from how hard you were biting down on it.

Can you call something a mistake if you’ve voluntarily made it twice now– and while stone cold sober the second time, no less? And what if it’s a mistake you want to make again?

That can’t happen, you firmly tell your reflection. You won’t let Yoongi get a third strike on you, and you certainly won’t let him fuck up this job for you any more than he already has. He is now officially out of your system.

You gently smooth out your hair, and then you pause, fingertips lingering over the skin of your neck. You tilt your chin up slightly to get a good look in the mirror. There aren’t any visible marks, but you can’t quite shake the memory of Yoongi’s hand closed over your throat— the way everything in the world seemed to blink out of existence under his touch, if only for a moment.

It’s over, you tell yourself again. It has to be.

With a resigned sigh, you run your hands down over the front of your dress, then check the back to confirm there aren’t any weird stains. As much as you want to hide away in the bathroom for the rest of the day, you force yourself back out the door and down the hallway towards the lobby.

Your heart creeps into your throat as your footsteps bring you closer to the Genius Lab, and you forcefully tell yourself that it’s not a big deal. You’re just going to walk right by and head to your desk to proceed with the rest of your work day, thoroughly unbothered.

At this point you wonder why you’re even surprised when the door swings open and Yoongi practically runs into you. You jump out of his way, startled— and you are surprised to see that he has his bag slung over his shoulder and his dark sunglasses on.

“Just heading out,” Yoongi mutters, and your only answer is to keep your gaze fixed on your shoes when you brush past him and continue down the hall.

You’re sure he must be following after you, and you have to swallow the urge to interrogate him— ask why he’s leaving so early, where he’s going. You don’t care, you remind yourself. Not having him around is a good thing.

As you approach the office lobby, you glance up to see Jungkook walking towards you from the other direction. He holds up a hand in a lazy wave, and you come to a dead stop.

It’s the first time you’ve ever felt anything other than happy to see your coworker. Now panic rises in your chest, a wonder if maybe, somehow, he knows what happened on the other side of the Genius Lab door.

“I was just coming to find you,” he says as he crosses to meet you where the two hallways join and spill into the lobby.

You can tell from the look on his face that he means it. There’s no hidden agenda. Nothing to hold over your head. It’s enough to make you exhale a small laugh of relief.

“Well, you found me,” you say.

“Leaving already, Min Suga?” Jungkook’s gaze jumps to look behind you, and dread pools in your stomach. You couldn’t imagine a more mortifying exchange right now if you tried.

Yoongi doesn’t dignify Jungkook with a response, only hums noncommittally as he slips past the two of you and heads for the exit. Your stomach clenches as you wait to hear the doors open and close, praying there’s no sarcastic remark coming, praying he’ll just leave.

His hand presses flat against the glass, and then he turns over his shoulder, as if he’s just thought of something. “You kids have fun tonight,” he quips dryly. Then he pushes the door open and slips out into the hallway.

Jungkook looks a little lost. “Oh, uh, did you tell Suga that we��”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, it sort of came up. When I said he needed to leave early.” Jungkook nods, and you’re eager to change the subject. “What did you want to ask me?”

“I realized we didn’t agree on a time for me to pick you up tonight. I was thinking seven, if that works?”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest as you take in Jungkook’s sweet smile, the expectant but patient look on his face, Baby-Star-Candy eyes blinking. Your earlier conversation with Yoongi echoes in your mind like a knife to the gut.

“Actually, JK, can I talk to you? About tonight?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah, I, uh– I just wanted to make sure you knew that…” You tense up as you prepare to deliver the blow. “This… isn’t a date. I was asking you as friends. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply. His face betrays no hurt feelings.

You’re rambling, unable to believe it could be this easy. “I mean, I-I just… don’t think it’s a good idea, you know? For coworkers to date.” Or fuck, a snide voice in your head adds.

Jungkook nods. “No, I totally get it, but seriously, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really like being your friend.” He shrugs, as if that’s all there is to it. “So, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Relief floods through you like a balm. “Seven sounds great.”

“Cool.” He’s already reaching into his back pocket for his phone. “Can I show you pictures of my dogs now?”

~*~

At 6:55, there’s a firm knock on your door, and you squeak as you dig through the bottom of your closet in search for the right pair of shoes.

You spent most of the last hour on FaceTime with Jimin, who did what a good best friend is meant to do: viciously tear apart nearly everything in your closet while bent forward in a straddle split, warming up for his performance.

The two of you had eventually (more or less) compromised on a black t-shirt dress with a denim jacket thrown over top. Though Jimin had derided the look as “basic”, you’ve decided you’re just fine with that.

You finally find what you're looking for, retrieving your white Air Force Ones and stumbling to pull them on your socked feet as you trip out of your room and towards the front door.

You lean down to tie the laces as quickly as you can, then flip back upright, blood rushing to your head so fast you feel a little faint. You’re not sure why your heart has started to pick up speed, but you let out an exhale as you reach for the door handle, hoping it might help offset these strange sudden nerves.

You turn the handle and swing the door open to greet Jungkook with a smile– and your jaw drops at the sight waiting for you on the other side.

chapter five | masterlist | chapter seven

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

[cupid-styles]

ok but theoretically

all ur h’s seem like they go to the gym

so what would their reaction be if their girl was like ok im goin with u today or if he asked and they said fuck no like how would that play out

WAIT I LOVE THIS AND IM ANSWERING FOR MULTIPLE HARRYS WHETHER YOU WANTED THAT OR NOT

-grumpy h: I can imagine him wanting to workout on the weekends bc their schedules are so busy during the week and she's just like wait can I come!!! bc she wants to spend more time w him and he's like :) ofc baby but the second they get there and harry's lifting weights and she's walking on the treadmill she's soooo distracted by his muscles and she's just so heart eyes for him that within like 15 minutes she's by his side tugging on his tee-shirt like 🥰🥰🥰🥰hi can we go home pls🥰🥰🥰

-sugar daddy h: he definitely has a rigorous workout routine (like getting up at 5 am to go on runs and goes to nighttime yoga classes and meditates before bed) and one day mia's like sure! yeah! I'll go on a run w you tomorrow morning!!! but when his alarm goes off the next morning he literally cannot get her to wake up gjdkkdgjrgkj and she eventually just peeks an eye open and croaks out "I'm not going"

-silk and rope: idk why but silk and rope harry is def a yoga/pilates type of guy and goes to classes a few times a week and convinces his girl to come with bc he wants her to live a healthy happy life<3 and it actually ends up being something that they enjoy doing together!! it's a little hard w her schedule bc she wakes up so much earlier for her shifts at the bakery but when they have the time they really do like going together :)

-tattoorry: hmmm he's actually the one I see being into working out the least but if anything I feel like he'd do it more for mental health reasons than caring about what he looks like. I feel like bc he lives in a city he's v big on walking everywhere. like if y/n finds a bakery or a coffee shop she wants to try and it's a 40 minute walk he's like oh let's just walk !!! it's not far at all! but by the time they get there y/n is exhausted and he's like wow that was a great walk we should do that more often

-ymls harry: this man is in the gym every day. he's going to yoga, he's meditating, he's running, he's lifting. and YOU KNOWWWW he signs y/n up for pregnancy yoga classes and she's like im not going to those and he's like but :( the baby will be so happy :( and ofc he goes w her bc she's a lil nervy (maybe she's never done an in-person yoga class before) and it ends up being a good experience for her, like just slowing down and doing mindful movement w lots of breathing is rly calming and when class is over he treats her to ice cream or something and he's like so what'd you think??? and she's just "...it was fine. thank you. we can do that again sometime."

-abo frat harry is in the gym w his douchey frat brothers multiple times a week and y/n asks for sweaty gym selfies and then promptly replies to them w "so you're coming over after that right?" ejrgjktekrjt

#THIS WAS A LOT OF FUN THANKS FOR SENDING IT!!!!!! #bestie asks #writing #I guess

[writingsofwesteros]

hi!!! i rly love your work so this idea suddenly popped into my head and i just had to request for it if it’s possible!!! 🥺

so our girl rhaenyra is a little tipsy/drunk (but still sober enough to consent to anything) and going back to her room. then f!reader (like in the place of alicent at the younger age) sees her struggling with her balance, goes to her then rhaenyra just gets all clingy and confesses to her. ANDDDDD then she just drags the reader into her room and do the nasty cause damn that girl has BIG DICK ENERGY. 😩

thank you in advance 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

AN: Hi, I hope you like it ;) She really has BDE for sure!! x

NSFW

You watched from across the room as the realm’s delight had another cup of the wine they were serving. A soft giggle escaped you as you shook your head. It would seem you would have to go and rescue her. “Excuse me.” You gently whispered to a Lady of the court that you couldn’t remember the name of now.

Your dress flowed behind you as those long locks of yours were tied neatly in a bun. It showed off your neck and shoulders so prettily. The ruby necklace adorned your soft skin; a gift from the Princess you were trailing after. The guards bowed their heads as you walked past and you politely smiled.

“Rhaenyra..” You called out as the Princess seemingly picked up speed. Your soft, sweet breasts bouncing as you moved; not that you realised. “Oh, Y/N..just who I was looking for.” Rhaenyra hummed. Her arms were already reaching for you; her face moving to nuzzle into your neck.

“Nyra…” You giggled out; her breath tickling you as you tried to move from her embrace. She only tightened her arms around you; her giggling joined your own now. “We should get you to your bed.” You whispered into her ear. “Hmm, you should come with me..” Rhaenyra whispered into your ear.

Your eyes widened at such scandalous talk and you chose to ignore her even as a bright blush came over your cheeks. You watched as she got that glint in her eye that meant mischief. You knew she was not going to take no for an answer; nor was your refusal true. It seemed Rhaenyra was aware of that even in her state.

“You will need to rest now.” You hummed as you allowed the Princess to take you into her chambers. Thankfully, the guards seemed to move towards the end of the corridor to give you some privacy. For what, you were unsure of as you looked towards the door that now closed on you both.

Her hands were on you instantly. “Rhaenyra..” You giggled out as you tried to ignore the tingling sensation she could only give you. “Hmm, I have missed you.” She whispered; her lips brushing against your neck that had you shivering. Goosebumps were already littering your soft skin as you tugged from her embrace.

“Let's get you in bed.” You whispered gently to her; stroking those bright locks of hers as you turned her towards the bed. “Yes, let's go.” She hummed and you had to shake your head in amusement as you followed her. Your eyes widened as she slipped from her gown without thought.

“Nyra..” You gasped out; fighting against staring at her too long as her soft body came into view. “I am getting into bed..I can’t sleep with my gown on.” She hummed as she looked over her shoulder at you. “Do you not want to do the same?” Rhaenyra whispered, gracefully stepping closer to you.

You locked eyes with her so they would not wander anywhere else ever as her hand slowly moved to your hip. “Hmm, do you not want to stay with me?” The Princess asked so innocently as she looked up at you from under her lashes. You were always so weak for her and this time was no different.

“It is improper for me to stay.” You whispered out; her hands slowly moving up and down your sides whilst the Princess only hummed. You imagined she was hardly listening to you as her so soft lips found your own. You whimpered with your eyes widening. Of course, it was not the first time you had kissed but her bare body brushing against your own had you tingling. It was not long before your own dress easily fell to the floor with her help.

“Nyra..” You gasped out her name once more, your eyes widening whilst she only giggled; pulling you towards the bed. “I like you better without the dress on you.” Rhaenyra whispered to you. “Stop it..” You whispered out; a bright blush made its way over your body as you ducked your head.

Her fingers gently moved your head up to lock eyes with you once more. Before you knew it, her soft lips were on your own. “Nyra…” You still whimpered out as her hand moved into your locks; deepening the kiss. The Princess completely ignored you as her hands travelled over your soft body.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you leaned closer; your soft bodies brushing against each other as you gently fell onto the bed. Rhaenyra’s eyes only became more greedy as she followed you. The Princess hovered over your body as she took your beautiful form in. Her eyes only darkened in desire. “You are so beautiful.” She whispered out, causing you to blush madly.

“Stop it..” You whispered out and you wondered if she could hear your heart racing as she softly manoeuvred you both. Before you knew it, your bare, weeping pussy was brushing against her own. “Oh gods…oh,” Your eyes widened whilst Rhaenyra only giggled into your ear before beginning to rock.

Her hands slowly moved up your stomach now; her hands gently palming your bouncing breasts. Your head easily fell back to the pillows as you began to whimper her name. “We shouldn’t do this..” You whined; soft moans echoing around her chambers as she pinched your nipple in punishment for your words.

“Nyra…” You gasped out; your inner thighs became soaked with your wetness already as your sensitive clit was rubbed by her own. Your hands shyly reached for the Princess, trailing down her sides before resting on her arse. A chuckle escaped her at your eagerness for more pleasure.

“Close, sweet girl?” She purred down at your; half in delight and half taunting as you moved to hide your face into the pillow. “Princess…” You whispered out her title; something she only enjoyed in the bedroom. The words were enough for her own movements to quicken whilst your stomach tightened.

Her hands reached for the headboard to move against you even more. Your soft, ample breasts bouncing as you tried to move with her. “So good…Nyra…” You were babble nonsense now as you whined and wiggled underneath her. Rhaenyra enjoyed the sight of you like this a little too much.

She promised herself to keep you now; you were hers to take and keep forever. “Good girl.” The Princess whispered her praises as you shook once more; your climax easily ripping through you as she continued to rock against you. Your legs shook at the oversensitive feel rushing through you.

#rhaenyra targaryen x reader #request

[skunkes]

omg not sure if you've been asked something similar before, but whilst I had covid recently a Guy In My Head sprouted into existence (who, lore-wise, was a little cat who lived behind a minesweeper board and set up all the mines...) and it reminded me of your mind guys, and I was wondering how exactly you interact with them? : O Do you imagine them interacting with you physically, do they react to all of your thoughts (like little 24/7 bystanders) or can you wave them away at will/have privacy? Do they feel like they have full autonomy or do you sorta have 4th wall breaks of adjusting them? I'm just very curious...!

ive answered smthng adjacent before but i can answer it again!

I imagine em interacting with me physically, but not 24/7, only when my brain wants or needs that distraction. like they're not with me at my desk rn, but they could be! only until i start focusing again.

when i go to bed i usually imagine em There but that's just an achor point for the daydream, the thoughts can wander to dif locations, real or imaginary (i also switch between my POV and theirs in my brain sometimes, acting out their emotions etc). I mentioned this recently, it's much harder to get out of bed when your brain is almost convinced there's a guy who needs your warmth resting his head on your chest.

Both on the last one! ive discussed this before, a lot of the time it feels like theyre their own people talking to me, BUT with the acknowledgement that they're still imaginary and in Cheye's Brain...so i wont control the content of what they're saying (im learning more abt talon every day from this) but sometimes i have to pause, adjust, rewind, because hey, that sounds too Cheye, he wouldn't say that because [x y z character trait], and hit play again. its rly fun ^_^

#skunk mail #Anonymous #long post