#but at home there’s handsome mark and he is handsome and has a lovely smile

[corrodedcoughin]

When I went to university, there was a guy a year or so above me who was famous across the whole department because he was super nice, super gorgeous, and went jogging regularly while shirtless and wearing very tiny very short bright red shorts. And so everyone called him Beautiful Dave. Genuinely! Not an insult in the slightest. He was Beautiful and people needed to know!

And listen. LISTEN. That's Steve.

Hot college student who loves to get up early and go jogging shirtless and in his old basketball shorts.

Him, Robin, and Eddie all move up to Chicago together. Robin studies languages, Steve studies to be a paramedic or a physical therapist or something, Eddie fucks around and gets a job bc he has had enough of academia. They all get a shitty apartment near their college campus together and Steve finds he likes academia a lot more when it's something he cares about. He joins the swim team, he makes friends, and he finds out one day that people have started referring to him as Beautiful Steve.

He worries at first that it's another King Steve thing, but it's not!  People genuinely think he's absolutely beautiful and super nice and friendly. And so he kind of... goes along with it. He'll go jogging in his short shorts and people will greet him as Beautiful Steve and he responds with a smile and a wave.

Robin and Eddie find out while on campus one day when a group of people call him Beautiful Steve and he responds. Steve tells them that people started calling him that and It's the best day of their lives. Because that's their Steve! Their Steve is Beautiful Steve!! And they're nice about it because I want fluff and silly happiness and people are too mean to Steve

MOMO I CANT COPE. YOU ARE TRULY WIRED DIRECTLY TO THE SOURCE

Robin and Eddie FULL SCALE endorsing beautiful Steve!!! They get so into it they get the student to eventually treat him like a cryptid in that there’s sticks and badges of ‘I believe in beautiful Steve’ and it’s over a pair of illustrated red shorts. It’s a fun way of making some side income for them all and Steve gets a kick out of it.

Campus legend Beautiful Steve but it never becomes a creepy or uncomfortable thing. Everyone just enjoying what has organically grown from it all. He ends up as a ‘wheres Wally’ situation on the campus brochure. Never centre stage, always in the background and happily so.

He goes out on placement for his course and get a warm welcome on his return. Getting nods and waves and feeling like he has a Place here in his own way. Eddie and Robin observing it all and delighting at the smile it brings to Steve’s face every time. He may be Beautiful Steve to the uni but he’s Their Steve first and he won’t let them forget that

#MOMO MOMO MOMO!!! #that’s what goes through my head when I see a message from you #PURE JOY #and I am so sorry I’m so late in answering this SO HUGELY SORRY #you just ASTOUND ME #everything you do is CHEFS KISS #i CANNOT give you even half of the praise and adoration you deserve WOW!!! #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stobin #momotonescreaming #momo #ask #he’s beautiful Steve!!!! #we had a guy but he was called baldy prick…. #but at home there’s handsome mark and he is handsome and has a lovely smile

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/ a Petite S/O

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Protective Miguel, Flirting, Fluff, FLUFF, Size Difference, Petite Reader, Implied Size Kink, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Miguel LIVES to make you flustered.

He jumps at the opportunity to trap you against a wall or in a corner, using his height and his frame to block you in, his arm leaned above your head, his eyes red, bearing down on you. 

He towers over you, his shadow encompassing your smaller frame as he tells you what he plans on doing to you once you get home.

He used to be really insecure about his body – namely his shoulders – because he thought he looked disproportionate. Wrong.

But, after you showed him love, compassion, and unconditional appreciation for all that he is, he learns to love them. And all because you always tell him how wide and handsome he is, how safe you feel whenever he’s around.

He adores how small you are; he feels like he can keep you safe just by wrapping himself around you.

Yes, he is the big spoon (most of the time). This is non-negotiable.

He just curls around you like a shell and holds your back to his chest, revelling in how small you feel in his arms, how you snuggle into him and make him feel warm. Alive.

Miguel melts whenever you get up onto his shoulders – it makes him feel strong and useful. Especially if it’s to reach something that's just too far away to reach.

Admittedly, he does like to tease you about your height.

He’ll hold whatever coveted item you’re questing for above his head, his chest fluttering at the feeling of you leaning into him, frantic in your reach for your conquest.

“Hmm…I may be able to help you out here,” he says, looking down at you, eyes gleaming with an idea.

“But, it’s gonna cost you.”

You sigh, clamber down from him and cross your arms. You huff. “Fine,” you say. “What?”

Miguel gives you a look – the look – an eyebrow cocked, his lips pouted ever so slightly.

You can’t hide your smile and oblige his silent request.

As you press a soft kiss to his lips, you both know where this is going. Especially when he’s pressing his lips to yours with a feverish fervour, his front to yours, something catching your hip.

And, as your favourite mug lays abandoned on the kitchen counter, you and Miguel continue your little game – your compromise – in the bedroom.

Miguel loves having you up on his shoulders and will look for any given chance to do so.

“Aww, did you miss me, or are you just missing the feeling of my thighs around your face?” you say. Joking, of course. The crinkle around your eyes says it all.

Miguel smiles. Smirks. His hands come to rest on your waist.

“Oh, I don’t need an excuse for that.” He squeezes you, lowering his head until his mouth is to your ear. “Not when you begged me to do it last night. Bet you can still see the marks where I had to hold you down all night long–”

He’s also scared of how fragile you look, though.

If you even seem to be in the slightest danger of being knocked or pushed, he’s around you like a cloak, blocking any and all hazards from coming into contact with you.

One may call Miguel overbearing. But you just call him protective.

Then again, you don’t see the way his eyes gleam over your shoulder at whoever – or whatever – has nearly hurt you. Nor do you see them again, either.

Initially, when you were intimate for the first time, Miguel was terrified of hurting you – that he wouldn’t fit. Though, when he felt how tight you were, he almost lost every sensibility he had and nearly finished right there and then (as ashamed as he is to admit it). Now, he secretly gets off on how you whine when he stretches you out, telling him he’s “Too big – it hurts,” 

It makes his chest swell and his ego bloat.

He also knows you enjoy it, too. You’ve never been very good at hiding your smiles at inopportune moments.

You have names that only you are allowed to call each other.

You call him your “Big Boy” and he calls you his “Little One”.

Anyone who has heard these nicknames – or dares use them – does not retain their hearing ability for much longer.

To Miguel, your petnames are sacred – an insignia of your relationship; of your ownership of each other.

And he exercises this sentiment over you frequently. Literally.

You fit nicely beneath Miguel when he’s working out, so whenever he’s doing press-ups he lays you beneath him and kisses you whenever he descends. And it’s you that has to tell him to keep going with the push-ups when you feel him becoming a little too invested in the kiss.

Whenever you ask him why he does this with you – especially when he can be easily distracted – he gives you a smile.

“Because you’re the only thing that can motivate me to do better. Be stronger.”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles, his fangs peaking out beneath his drawn lip.

“After all, I am your Big Boy.”

There is nothing in this universe – or any universe – that can hurt you. Not while Miguel is alive, your shadow.

And everyone knows this, too.

Though, you may just think the crowd you’re currently wading through is parting simply out of respect rather than fear.

And it is Miguel who affords you this luxury, this constant protection and adoration for whom it is you he holds. And only you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #yandere miguel ohara #spiderman astv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider verse #into the spider verse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman x reader

[skipper19]

Imagine this..

Gojo absolutely loves the look of his pregnant wife wobbling around the home. He loves it a lot more than he thought he would. Gojo takes so many pictures of you. From the day of the big news, all the way to today.

"Satoru sto-Op!" You squeaked and giggled as you spoke. "I am allowed to dote on my pregnant wife, thank you very much." His low voice spoke very smugly into your ear. Despite your outward complaints, you still looked to the phone sitting on the kitchen counter and smiled. You blinked when the flash went off, and you rubbed your eyes.

"You take too many pictures of me.." You grumble. "Especially when I look like shit." You pouted and rested your hand on your swollen stomach. Gojo gasped and put a hand to his chest. "Shit? You're the most gorgeous woman I have ever met," He leans now and cups your jaw in his hands. "Especially in the mornings." He whispered softly before kissing you. You smiled into the kiss and felt your shoulders relax.

"Mm..if I wasn't already pregnant, I would drag you to bed until I am.." You mumbled happily against his lips. Gojo snickers and rolls his ocean eyes. "Keep talking like that, and I will drag you back to bed, despite already being pregnant." He smirked with lidded eyes. "Even if I'm 5 months pregnant?" You whispered. "Especially when you're 5 months pregnant." He pulled you into a passionate kiss after the words left his lips.

You both didn't leave the bed again until 6 pm.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

Gojo hurriedly washed his hands and ignored grabbing paper towels as he left, deciding to wipe his wet hands off on his pants instead. He was in too much of a rush to care anyway. His pregnant wife was all by her lonesome in the grocery store as he dealt with his bladder problem. He hated to leave you alone. He hated leaving you alone around other people even more.

Gojo sensed your cursed energy in the nearest aisle and quickly returned by your side. He smiled when he spotted you looking at the baby shoes that were huddled in a small pile on the corner of the shelf. Gojos eyes glanced to the clearance sign above the shelf and playfully rolled his eyes. "Didn't I say I wanted our baby girl to have the best quality clothes? Why are we in the clearance section?" He playfully scolded as he leaned his shoulder against the shelf with the shoes.

"Well, I remember saying that it doesn't have to be expensive, as long as it looks adorable on our baby boy." You retorted with a sly smile. Gojo huffed and shook his head. "Our baby girl has the best, strongest, and wealthiest father in all of Japan. I think she deserves to be spoiled." He crossed his arms, making you glance at the faint sight of his veins popping out. Amusement laced his eyes behind the dark shades adorning his handsome face.

"And I think our baby boy will care nothing about being spoiled, as long as it's comfortable." You shot back and quickly looked back down to the pair of shoes in your hand. Gojo felt his heart leap when you placed the boy shoes in the shopping cart before reaching back onto the shelf and grabbing a feminine pair of shoes as well. Gojo pushed himself from the shelf and walked behind you to wrap his arms around your growing belly.

"You are going to be an amazing mother." He whispered softly into your ear. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. "You think so?" You placed your hands onto his. "I really do."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

It didn't take long for Gojo to realize you weren't in bed with him any longer. He was normally hyper aware when you would leave the warmth of his arms at night, but he had been even more of a light sleeper after you hit your 7 month mark.

Gojo didn't want to think of what he would do if something had happened to you.

He threw the covers off of himself before leaving the inviting warmth of the sheets. He quickly makes his way to the kitchen, only to find you quietly sitting at the marble island in the center of the room. You were minding your business as you nibbled away at your odd snack, a soft tune playing from the radio nearby. Gojo always insisted on buying speakers. That way, he could blast music from the TV, but you denied him every time. You always said that the radio was much better.

Gojo sighed and quietly walked up to you, his eyes grazing over your plump form. He couldn't help but smirk. You just looked so lovely as you sat there, munching away on your food, his shirt barely covering your body. Gojo was head over heels in love with you, that was obvious.

"Sneaking away from me just to get you a snack? How rude." Gojo softly said as he pouted. You jumped as his arms snaked around your body. You swatted at his muscular arms and shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Dont sneak up on a pregnant lady! You nearly made me drop my pickles.." You mumbled. Despite your annoyance, your body still leaned back to relax against his warm chest.

Gojo glanced at the food in your hands and resisted the urge to shiver. Pickles and marshmallows. "Mm, I wouldn't want to have to throw that snack away.." You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and plopped the pickle and mini marshmallow in your mouth. "Shuddup."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"You're doing so good, baby, just a few more pushes." Gojo encouraged you with soft spoken words and swift fingers caressing your hair. You wanted to yell at him to just shut up, but the pain you were feeling inhibited anything other than pained sounds.

Gojo hated seeing you in so much pain. Especially when he couldn't do anything to quell it. "Just one more push." The doctor said. If it weren't for the situation, Gojo knew better than anyone how embarrassed you would be right now. He leaned down closer to your ear. "One more push, sweetheart, and then we can meet our beautiful baby." He whispered softly. You gripped his hand tighter, thankful that his infinity was lowered, his touch grounded you. It kept you sane on a normal day, and you needed him more than ever right now.

"I can't.. I can't!" Your voice was hoarse and weak as you sobbed aloud. Gojo shook his head and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your skin as he spoke. "Yes, you can. I know you can. You're strong, the strongest woman I have ever met, I know you can do this." His words replayed like a symphony. You can do this. You are strong. You can do this. For your baby.

One final push, followed by a shout of pain, led to the cries of your baby echoing in the room. Gojo smiled and gulped down his nerves as he watched the nurses take away his baby to be cleaned.

You weren't in the same condition.

Your ears rang as your head pounded. You know your baby was finally delivered, so why couldn't you hear them? Your glazed eyes panicked to search the room for your child. "Sa-satoru?" Your voice weakly called out. His ocean blue eyes cast down to your face to see the concern and tears. His hand moved from your hair to your face as he wiped away your tears and tilted your gaze to meet his.

"I can't hear them crying. Are they okay?" You hiccuped. Gojos eyebrows furrowed slightly, yet he kept a warm smile on his face. "They are fine, don't worry." He reassured and kissed your sweaty forehead. His eyes glanced to the doctor, only to see a reassuring smile sent back his way. "It's normal for the mother to be disoriented after giving birth. It's a lot of strain on her body." The doctor said quietly.

Gojo sighed and briefly closed his eyes as his lips lingered against your forhead. His attention was directed to the nurse as she walked back with a small bundle in her arms. "Mrs. Gojo," the nurse called softly. Your eyes fell to her, then the bundle of life in her arms. A wobbly smile formed on your lips as you weakly reached out your arms for your baby. The moment the baby was rested against your chest, tears fell from your eyes like a waterfall.

Gojo couldn't help but tear up.

"It's a boy." The nurse spoke up. You tearfully giggled and gently ran your finger over your baby's cheek. "My baby boy.." You mumbled, a soft kiss landing on his head.

After a few moments of skin to skin contact and appreciation, you looked to Gojo. He didn't need you to say a word. He eagerly held his arms out for you to gently place his baby boy in his warm hold. On instinct, the man handled his son with nothing but gentle touch. You just knew he was going to be an amazing father. "God, look at you.. beautiful, just like your mama.." He cooed. You rested your hand on his arm. "Handsome, just like his daddy." You whispered with droopy eyes. He shakily sighed.

This is his family.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"Thank you.. Thank you so much." Gojo mumbled into your ear. Your mind, despite being fogged, was able to register his words. "F-for what?" You gasped, your nails drawing blood from his pale skin. "For giving me a family." His words reverberated in your spine, causing your ears to tingle and your eyes to close in pleasure.

"I want to be selfish.." He spoke again. His movement picked up speed, quickly sucking the words from your throat. "I want one more. Give me one more -please baby, just one more.." But Gojo has always been a greedy man. One was never enough, and you knew this all too well.. "Please~" He begged, almost pathetically. You moaned aloud and grasped his face in your hands, pulling his lips to your own from where they once were on your neck.

"Give me it, Satoru.. give it to me."

#jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #pregnant reader #fluff #fanfic

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when they caught you fangirling over them.

Mark Lee ; listening to his songs

Mark would be super casual when he goes home and hear "Child" playing in the speakers. He'll be embarrassed at first but you seem chill as you bop your head while cooking. He'll take the opportunity to sneak on you and grab you by the waist. You'll be startled especially when he pulls you for a hug. He knows that his songs are your comfort songs so he'll make it special by singing it to you too.

Huang Renjun ; watching his "Fools" cover

Renjun will be eyes wide when he opens your laptop and his cover of "Fools" is open in your browser. His ears will turn red and you'll caught him sneaking on your laptop, that's why you were quick to close it before he snap out of it. But Renjun will never let you live after that incident. "If you want I can sing it to you live," he teased which made you embarrassed. 

Lee Jeno ; you buying his expensive photocards

Oh this poor samoyed, Jeno will be very confused on why you're trying to buy an expensive photocard of him online. He can't believe that his photocard cost a lot and would even convince you to not waste his money on his photocards. "You know you have me right? okay if you want my photocards I can ask the company --- please, just don't waste that much money." 

Lee Donghyuck ; watching a fancam all over again

He'll be surprised that you're watching a fancam of him during a concert. He'll be confused because you seemed to be smiling nonstop at his fancam when it's just him waving around the fans. "Oh it's nothing, you look like you're made to be on stage," you said nonchalantly but Donghyuck acted like his heart burst like a bubbles because of what you said. He'll be dramatic but found the thought of you watching his fancam endearing. 

Na Jaemin ; buying a jaeminbun doll

Jaemin will be having a staring contest at the HUGE Jaeminbun doll on your bed. He's confused as to why the funny-looking fanmade doll is in your room. "Are you replacing me with a doll?" he asked but you shared that it'll be your cuddle buddy whenever your boyfriend's outside the country. "Okay fine, since I'm here, it has to go inside your closet." 

Zhong Chenle ; you watching his pre-debut videos

Chenle would be curious as to why you find the joy in watching his pre-debut videos. "You look cute," you reply and Chenle's forehead will crease more. "why? do I no longer cute anymore?" he will ask, and you have to assure him that he's now more handsome than cuter. He'll bought it and will watch along with you, even sharing you stories of his childhood. 

Park Jisung ; posting his instagram updates in your ig story

You accidentally post your boyfriend's instagram post in your private account's ig story with a love song as a music background, and before you could delete it, your boyfriend saw it already. "why do you have post my instagram post when you can just post a photo of me right now?" he will ask you nonstop until you give in and eventually post a real-time photo of him in your ig story. 

#nct dream #nct fic #nct imagines #nct #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct mark #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

[tonicandjins]

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan fic #haechan au #haechan scenarios #nct dream #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck fix #donghyuck fic #donghyuck smut #donghyuck angst #haechan x reader #faye's moving castle

[rae-writes]

An Angel...

om demons x reader (+Simeon, Solomon)

wc : 1.k

warnings : simping bois, humor, some sprinkled suggestive comments

synopsis : a deviltok trend has the boys on their knees for you (though that’s nothing new)

a/n : this audio scratches an itch in my brain and I needed to do something with it

angel ver. 

<Asmodeus> GUYS!!!  YOU HAVE TO WATCH THIS!!!! NOW!!!!! LIKE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

[attachment sent]

Casually clicking on the video file, his interest peaked immediately when he saw you. Clad in your RAD uniform, you were positioned in frame a couple steps back. 

“Who are you?” 

He watched you slowly stalk forward with a smile on your face; it was both reassuring and off putting. Only someone like him would be able to notice. 

“An angel…”

You held out your hand towards the camera gently, as if beckoning someone closer. 

“What’s your name?”

The transition was fast— smooth. In an instant, your hand came up and grabbed the phone, like you were choking someone, causing the frame to shake. 

“Satan.”

Once the shaking transition stopped, with your hand still in its previous position, his mouth dropped. You had completely transformed yourself into what he assumed is your version of their demon form. 

Realistic black sheep horns protruded from your head, curling backwards around your ear and ending at your middle jaw. There were light purple extensions added here and there, blending with your hair perfectly. Your free hand had come up to splay over your malicious grin- showing off the fangs you’d added and the sharpness of your new nails. The outfit you wore was revealing- black with shiny accents and shiner jewelry - easily showing the intricate marks you’d drawn over the exposed skin. 

[8 people saved a video attachment] 

Lucifer

His stupidly handsome face forms the most obnoxious smug smirk imaginable 

Don’t get me wrong, he was absolutely flustered. On the inside. 

On the outside though, he radiated pride and smugness 

Like ‘yeah. That’s my Mc. mine. Eat it.’ 

Not that he would ever speak those words. Totally not

Was he also slightly bugged that Asmo seemed to be the only one who had access to this video? Sure. 

Was he gonna make sure his brothers, Diavolo, and Barbatos deleted this from everything they owned? Of course. 

But first, he’s gotta get you to dress up like that for him in person 

Mammon

Mans was astonished. Eyebrows had shot through the heavens, mouth was dropped down to sea floor level, cheeks were a blazing inferno— he was in awe 

First thought : ‘HELL YEAH, MC, YA LOOK HOT!’ 

Second thought : ‘WAIT HOLD UP, THE OTHERS ARE SEEIN THIS TOO-‘ 

Really though, Mammon is just so in awe at how gorgeous you looked 

especially in that gold he knows he bought you

Immediately takes a screenshot of you in that getup and makes it his home screen wallpaper

Then he texts you, begging demanding you dress up like that again because he wants to make videos with you in his demon form too!

I mean, if he doesn’t get to have his hands all over you and his mouth on you like that, how will anyone get the message you’re only for him?

Levi

Someone call the equivalent of 911 for the Devildom, Levi might just be coding 

Actually- don’t even worry about it, he’s just a big puddle on the floor! No worries! 

He. Is. FLUSTERED! Flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it really- 

Levi can't breathe, can’t talk, can’t even wave his hands around frantically to express his lost words

Irl version of a windows restart. 

But as soon as he does reboot, he’s doing his best impression of Oprah into his pillow with how high pitched he’s screaming 

Would love to take a picture with you in that outfit while he’s in his demon form or have you sit on him 

He’ll send you a bunch of emojis in show of his approval but his normal skin tone still isn’t visible under the blush for hours

Satan

Smug as fuck about the audio itself. Definitely silently bragging

Aside from that, Satan is absolutely willing to kneel for you in that outfit 

He’s studied with you on seductive speechcraft but this? He was not ready

Has to take a minute to get his bearings together and to wipe that blush off his face

Satan’s actually pretty speechless for a good 30 minutes 

Not that he’d let you know. He will, however, be telling you how fucking good you looked

Wants to ask if you’ll walk around town with him in his demon form too so everyone can see 

Power couple ™— Take that Lucifer 

Asmo

Azzy is on his knees in an instant- pliant and ready for you to fucking step all over him 

The moment he saw the video he was liking, favoriting, commenting, saving, sharing- everything 

He’d suggested something similar for you to do in the past but you just. 

You went light years beyond what he was expecting the outcome to be and he is here for it 

#1 supporter and immediately is coming up with different- sexier -outfits for you to wear

Will ask, beg if he has to, if you’d come have a photo shoot with him (surprisingly he mainly wants to take photos of just you) 

Admitting to anyone who listens that your beauty is absolutely on par with his 

On his way to your room right this instant- but only after he shares the video with the others 

Beel

Choked. 

You’d think he hadn’t ate in years with how much he was drooling but no

He was just looking at you in that outfit. Which he thought was amazing. 

You are easily the most delicious thing he’s ever laid eyes on (“Gorgeous too…”) and he can’t wait to tell you to your face 

Wonders if you’d have a tail or wings if you really did have a demon form 

Wants to ask Diavolo if there’s magic to make you a real, temporary demon form to find out

Please come to one of his Fangol games dressed like that. He’d promise to win for the rest of the season- and succeed

Overall flustered with his cute blush present, but unlike Satan or Levi, he doesn’t mind showing you 

Belphie

Two words : “holy. fuck.” or alternatively : “fuck. me.”

He is sprinting- yes, sprinting- throughout the fucking house and barreling straight through your door

On his knees faster than Asmo was and is ready at light speed to crawl at your feet and wrap his arms around your leg 

All of his usual curt expressions are thrown out the window without a care in the world

No pure thoughts behind those doe eyes. Not a single one. 

Convinces you to let him take a picture from underneath you while you’re choking him to put as his lock screen because he needed it

Will not be letting you go for the next 24 hours or longer

Fakes innocence like a pro when the others accuse him of hogging you to himself (“they are mine” he snips, even though you have the metaphorical leash right now)

Barbatos 

Mmmmmm, the silent simping is strong in this one

He was simultaneously so fucking ready and so very much not ready for that

Does not know what to do with himself for the next 2-7 business days

Had to put down shit he was cleaning multiple times before he broke something (because you actually broke him)

Straight up doesn’t even ask to show up in your room this time, he just does and immediately beelines to shove his face into your neck 

No, his ears are not red. I believe you might be color blind Mc…

Won’t outright admit how badly you affected him- he just lets out a small ‘you look lovely’ like yeah, Barb? Just lovely? 

Please wear this to the next formal event you attend to watch him lose his cool for split second intervals all night

Diavolo 

If he didn’t have millennia of training on composure, he’d been screaming as loud as Levi 

Instead he settles for slamming his hand on his desk like that meme Asmo showed him 

Concerning his butler a bit, but Diavolo is a proud simp- he ADMITS it

Please come sit on him. Let HIM sit on YOU, for all he cares

You look so good?? What the fuck?? Marry him?? (<<exact texts he sends you)

Tries to find ways to give you a real demon form before getting scolded

Volunteers whole heartedly to let Asmo take pictures of both of you while you’re dressed like that

Ring, ring, Lucifer, he’s coming over ASAP, don’t be alarmed when he shows up at the door

Bonus : 

Solomon

Fuck this man is so down bad for you

I mean, he knew that before but this is just something else, Mc, what have you done to him? 

Knows you’re still human but god does he crave having your pact mark seared into his body (it’s a guilty pleasure of his)

Maybe you’ll just create one and tattoo it on anyway

No second thoughts, teleports to your room immediately to yank you into a kiss

Door is locked- Solomon refuses to let the brothers snatch you away from him rn

Please get on top of him and show him how real your fake fangs and nails feel

Will actually beg without a fight

Simeon

Thinks he should not find this as attractive as he does but the heat flooding through his body disagrees

Gets so hot and flustered, it would be concerning if he wasn’t an actual angel 

Drinks a whole ass cup of water in less than 2 seconds 

Personification of ‘hold my mf halo’ as he makes his way to your place once he calms down a bit

Yes, he’ll take pictures with you with his wings on display and yes, he may or may not be into this (and if you start a little roleplay with him? He’s ascending.)

Don’t tease and make fun of him, he can’t help it! He’s not trying to blush- though he isn’t trying to hide it either

Lies through his teeth without hesitation when he gets questioned about the faint lines on his shoulders 

Heaven’s filthiest angel, on brand

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me headcanons #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #leviathan x reader #obey me levi #satan x reader #obey me satan #asmo x reader #obey me asmo #beel x reader #obey me beel #belphie x reader #obey me belphie #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos #diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #simeon x reader #obey me simeon

[ushiwhacka]

time skip! ushijima wakatoshi + fem! reader | mdni | 1,127 words | established relationship, rough sex, creampie, cockwarming, ushi with a clingy girlfriend <3

“you’re just gonna leave like that?” 

hand hovering over the doorknob, wakatoshi stops dead in his tracks at the sound of your voice, surprised to find you standing behind him with your arms folded across your chest and an expression that can only be described as petulant. 

“you didn’t even say goodbye!” you whine. 

ah. he takes a step towards you, and before you have a chance to complain further his hand settles in the crook of your neck. thumb gently rubbing circles into your delicate skin. “my love,” he’s so apologetic, so sincere even though he knows “i’m just going to the store.” you both know you’re just being a brat. but he can’t help it. you look too cute with your eyes closed and lips dramatically puckered, impatiently stomping your feet. his hand slides to cradle your neck as he pulls you towards him and slots his lips gently against yours. and though your attitude might be a bit sour, there’s nothing sweeter than the taste of you on his tongue. 

“kiss me again.” this time it’s just a quick peck, barely touching as he tries to escape your grip. but you’re basically hanging off his neck, still pouting, still not satisfied. “again.” 

“what is this one for?” the way his eyes soften melts your heart a little.

“damages.” you quip. “because you forgot.” 

and you’re gasping as his body crashes against yours, large hands catching you by the waist, guiding your legs around him. “i’m sorry,” close enough to share the air that you breathe before he pays his damages. firm and claiming, “i won’t do it again.” now you’re the one dumbfounded. limbs trembling and limp like jelly as he leaves your home with a soft smile and a promise to be back right away.

wakatoshi has learned that you’re clingy, and he doesn’t really understand. he has never asked anyone to share much with him. and he’s never given much of himself to anyone. and, well, no one has ever asked. until you asked, no, demanded. like the first night you spent together when you shoved your finger in his shoulder just moments after he had turned his back to you and demanded to be held. your hands wrapped around him and face nuzzling into his neck. mumbling something about how he’s so mean to just leave you like that. peppering little kisses down his throat until your breathing deepened. and the realisation that you’ve found comfort in him, his body going rigid at the very thought of disturbing your sleep. the months of back pain before he finally understood that you’d just wanted to be close, feel his skin on your skin, the warmth of his body, that was all the comfort you ever needed.

this unfamiliar feeling of being wanted and desired so greedily. after his morning run, salty with sweat and strands of hair sticking to his forehead. and, still, you make grabby hands from your shared bed, asking for a kiss to start your day, your due. sitting next to the sink, a coy smile on your pretty face, watching him shave because he looks so so handsome when he sticks his jaw out like that. 

perched on top of him, your paws on his chest, pinning him down on the bed as if he’s prey. and the way you’re looking at him with darkened eyes, he just might be. insisting he lets you bite him. “i could just eat you alive.” fingers dig into muscles, squeezing around his pecs.

“then i would be dead and you would be sad about it.”

you scoff, “not if i just have a tiny little bite.” and your gaze turns calculating. “hmm, your thigh.”

“no, i need my thighs.”

“your butt?”

“no.”

ugh. “your cheek then.” wiggling your hips, preening and purring into his ear, mouth grazing over his cheekbone. so determined to get what you want. then sinking your teeth into the plane of his cheek when he doesn’t say no. not deep enough to leave a mark, but long enough so that his skin is slightly red and shiny with your drool. 

you can feel his cock twitch against your clothed pussy as you lick over the bite mark, slowly and with intent. “ah!” you’re gasping and giddy at the thought of flustering him. “you liked that!”

“that’s not-” 

“but you did!” there’s nothing to deny as your hand wraps around his cock. sitting so heavy and pretty against his abs. “are you hard?” he is, and you’re giggling. 

acting so innocent as you move your panties to the side and rub his tip through your soaking folds. then slowly, too slowly, sink down his length, taking as much of him as you can. the flush spreads from his chest, to his face, to the tip of his ears. and he just looks so adorable underneath you. as you make him feel every inch of your pussy, hand still firm around the base. 

gasping every time you go down a bit further. the way your lips part and eyes glaze over makes his balls ache. he lets you toy with him until he’s heard one too many “baby, i can feel you here,” as you drag his hand up to your belly button, “in my tummy.” and he loses all manners, ruthless in the way his hips are rutting up into you. fast enough to make you grab onto his shoulders, and brutal enough to have you drooling on his chest. words long replaced by tiny sobs and some incoherent form of oh my god, ’s too much repeated over and over and over again. helpless against the strength of his grip. 

your little pussy spilling with his cock and cum that it’s all dripping from the sides. and even as you lay on top of him, motionless and sticky and sloppy, you won’t let him pull out, walls tightening around his sensitive length at every attempt. because you need to feel him go soft inside you, to feel so close and so full of him until you doze off in his arms. 

then he finds himself being away from you for the first time. and the silence that should feel peaceful is suffocating. and shaving his face feels pointless when you’re not there to ogle him. the spacious bed feels a little cold and very empty. and he decides to ask. phone in hand, a strange anxious feeling swirling in his stomach, hoping that you’re awake. the relief that washes over him when he hears your voice. his shirt on you and his pillow in your arms, whispering about your day like it’s some great secret. and he learns something about himself that night. maybe he’s also clingy.

thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushijima wakatoshi x y/n #ushijima smut #ushijima fluff #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima wakatoshi smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you

[moonstruckme]

need more shy remus. please. begging. hands and knees. ANYTHING. i loved it so much genuinely.

Ask and you shall receieve. Thanks gorgeous! <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 794 words

You open the door to find Remus with a handful of what look to be carnations. 

“Well,” you say, smiling as you hold up your small bunch of dandelions, “this is awkward.” 

Remus blinks. You love to fluster him, amusement mingling with fondness in your chest until you can’t tell which is which, they’re both so big and happy. It’s your three-month anniversary, and despite your agreement just last week that neither of you would make a big deal, he’s clearly put extra effort into his appearance. There’s evidence of comb marks in his hair though it seems to have gotten tousled on the way to your flat (even better, in your opinion), he’s wearing that mossy green shirt you’d once told him makes his eyes look especially handsome, and you’re willing to bet that if you crossed the couple feet of air between you, you’d be able to smell the faintest whiff of his cologne. 

“Remus Lupin,” you tease, “have you put on chapstick just for me?” 

He blushes, rubbing his moisturized lips together self-consciously. “What,” he says quietly, “too presumptuous?” 

You laugh, taking him by his free hand to encourage him inside. You let him get close before stepping back, and there it is—a whiff of what he swears up and down is cedar cologne but has always smelt to you like frankincense and orange. Maybe by six months, you’ll be brave enough to stay right by his collar and take a big sniff, but for now you inhale as subtly as you can before moving out of his space. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of what you’d do with yours if you were picking me up,” you say, trying not to skip as you go into the kitchen, grabbing a vase from under the sink. “Do you want me to put them in water and you can grab them before you go home, or would you rather take them with us now?”

Remus looks at you, expression wavering between befuddlement and awe. “Those are for me?” 

You laugh again. You can never seem to stop doing that around him, it just comes spooling out of you like a pulled thread. “Course they are. You like dandelions, right? Or did I get that wrong?” 

“I do.” His voice is soft, tentative. “How’d you know?” 

“You mentioned it once.” You shrug, arranging your carnations in the vase. It doesn’t take much work to make them pretty, all fresh and upbeat and still undoubtedly invigorated from Remus’ touch. They look like you feel. “You said there used to be a ton in the courtyard of your school, so I assumed they have some nostalgia value. So, vase?”

“I’ll take them,” he says, wrapping his hand around the stems tenderly. His forefinger touches your pinkie, and you both let the contact linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away. The scar on his cheek stands out starkly against his blush, pushed up by a bashful smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Warmth comes to your face in tandem with your chest, and you beam at him. “No problem.” The carnations look lovely in the center of your table, which reminds you that you’ve forgotten to tell Remus how lovely he looks. “You look really nice, by the way.” You give the words just long enough to find their mark, his flush worsening, before moving on so he doesn’t go mute on you like he has on a couple of occasions when you’ve laid on the affection too heavily. “Where is it we’re going again?”

Even with the subject change, it takes him a second to get his wits about him. “Um, I was thinking the cafe a couple of streets over,” he all but murmurs, doing that adorable thing where he seems to turn his eyes up to yours despite being taller than you. You’d kiss him on his pinkened cheek if you thought he’d ever recover. “We could go somewhere else, though. They have this chocolate torte I thought you might like, but if—”

“You like it there?” you ask, grabbing your keys from off the counter. 

Remus does a funny shrug-nod thing, as if to say Well, yeah, but what good is that?

“Then I’m sure it’ll be great,” you promise him, grabbing his hand to pull him out the door with you. “Chocolate torte sounds amazing, actually. How’d you know I was craving chocolate today?” 

“Figured it was the same as any day,” Remus mumbles, giving your hand a light squeeze. 

Another laugh startles out of you, and you can’t help yourself, going up on tiptoe to dot a kiss just beside his scar. 

Remus doesn’t speak again until you sit down at the cafe, but he never lets go of your hand. 

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fluff #the marauders #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[lovelyghst]

is there a kink for saying “i love you” a lot during sex cause if so kyle garrick 100% has it. he’s so fucking soft and i’m obsessed.

i can just imagine him coming home to his cozy apartment after a longgg day, to his sweet girlfriend who’s never seemed to let him down. recruits defying orders, drills lasting hours longer than originally intended, mounds of unnecessary stress added to his job; it all become obsolete when he lays eyes on you. when you greet him with a huge bear hug and so many kisses at the door, he can practically feel his muscles melt. there’s barely enough time for him to set down his duffle bag and take off his boots before he’s walking you backwards into your shared bedroom, embracing your head in his hands and nearly suffocating you with the return of affection.

he can’t take his time undressing you like he normally does, not when you’re both so eager to feel each other for the first time in so fucking long (like three days). he can’t pay mind to the mess you’re making by peeling his jacket and shirt from his torso and throwing them haphazardly so you can shamelessly cop a feel of his muscles. and he can’t possibly remove his lips from yours as you lay back on your bed and shimmy out of your pants with his help, your sugary giggles reminding him he hasn’t even said a single word since he walked in.

“missed you, love,” he mumbles whilst moving to lean over you, a hand planted beside your shoulder as the other cups your cheek, and now it’s your chance to return the endearment. you repeat his words with a smile and pull him in for yet another kiss, miles different from the previous ones though still equally as desperate.

“missed waking up beside you, feeling your body pressed up against mine… can’t sleep for shit whenever i’m away from you.”

he makes quick but sensual work with kissing down your body, from your neck to the fat of your hip. wet lips leaving their marks along the way, until his impatient fingers slip beneath the band of your panties and pull them down your gorgeous, goosebump-clad thighs.

“missed these pretty tits… ‘nd this perfect, little cunt, fuck…” he breathes. “missed how good my sweetheart tastes, all f’me.”

his murmured words seem foggy, damn-near jumbled as he comes onto you strong. hot tongue lapping at your seam, licking your clit in upward motions like a dirty dog with impeccable manners. you gasp and claw at the nape of his neck, squeeze your thighs and allow your noises to fall freely. you’re so sensitive and he’s already overstimming you despite having just started. he’s been apart from you for long enough; he’s clearly not wasting any more time. “so fuckin’ sweet.”

and he can’t rip himself from that dazed headspace ‘til you’re a panting mess, arching your back into his space. until he gets to feel you finish on his tongue hard, and ride out your high with a selfish grip on his skull, begging for more you know you can’t take.

crawling up your body as you fight to ground yourself through starry vision and a heaving chest, capturing little, vulnerable you in a kiss.

he shushes you through the stretch of his cock, cooing your winces away with quick and chaste kisses plastered everywhere from the corner of your lips to your temple. pausing there for a moment to remind you of how well you’re doing, get you finely adjusted and calmed down a bit before he’s rolling over to his back and bringing you with him, a surprised yelp being pushed from your lungs.

you land on his chest, hands planting themselves on his shoulders to catch you mere inches from his stupidly handsome face. your visual scolding only turns him on more, cocky look never depleting as he wraps his meaty arms around your waist and pulls you oh, so close.

“love you, princess.” he can’t stop tugging you in for more kisses, so much so you’re unable to reciprocate the words. “go ahead ‘nd make up for lost time, yeah? show me how much you missed this, us.”

with that, you try your best to sit up straight as you begin rocking your hips against him. lifting them a bit the more you go on, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock stretching your soft walls out. knocking at the deepest parts of you your fingers could never reach while he’s away, ensuring you go slow to keep it from turning painful.

“that’s it, there ya go, baby. a beautiful sight you are, eh?”

you nod along with whatever he says, getting yourself drunk on him as his big hands paw at your waist. not missing a beat as he pulls you closer, tongue and lips pressing against the center of your chest before spanning out and praising your hard nipples individually.

“you’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. so fuckin’ proud’ve you… fuck, i love you so much,” he can’t help but pant.

“l-love you, too,” your voice trembles, thoughts overwhelmed by the amount of bodily contact and stimulation he gives you. he’d hate to admit how his heart flutters every time he hears you say those words. “love your cock… i love it, kyle— i want more—” you choke.

begging for more despite being fully sheathed on his cock, perched on his lap with full control? christ, he knows what you want instead.

“i know baby, i know what you want. just make me come like this first, ‘n then i’ll fuck you real nice after.” his promises do well enough to spur you on to keep going, turning your little pout into a grin.

you nearly fall to shambles when one of his hands slides down from your ribcage and falls to where the two of you meet. his thumb reaching your sensitive clit whilst the rest of his fingers and palm presses up against your lower tummy, applying pressure.

“love my pretty girl… this perfect pussy wrapped ‘round my cock.” his other hand rubs up and down your back until he’s forced to drag it back to your hip and aid your movements when you begin slowing, due to both the added pleasure as well as the stinging in your thighs.

he refuses to relent in chasing his high, and neither does his thumb on your clit to push you overboard. giving him all those telltale signs, every nerve in your body responding to finally being back with your beloved partner, and he brashly seeks it out. “y’gonna come, baby?”

you don’t have the lungs nor will to tell him before it’s happening, and you’re squeezing down on his cock with a loud moan as your brain and body goes numb atop him. he wraps both arms tightly around your waist to catch you when you fall into his neck and shoulder, lifting you on and off his cock like a pliant toy to guide you past your extensive orgasm as well as aid his own impending one.

“shit— princess, ‘m gonna come…” he warns you, and your body responds with constricting down on him impossibly tighter.

you feel so good around him, so fucking perfect, and he just…

“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you—” he murmurs right up against your temple, holding your hips down as he finishes deep inside you. a low, broken moan contrasting your complacent hums at the feeling of his hot cum warming your tummy, pulling him in tight with your arms wrapped around his neck so securely.

taking a minute to breathe and recollect, revel in being back with the one you care so much for. peppering kisses all over his cheekbone as you repeat his lovely mantra.

you’re left exhausted as he cards his fingers through the roots of your hair and he holds your head close, rough and deadly hands gentle for once. he eventually mumbles, “did so good for me, love. you tired?”

you nod against his shoulder with a sleepy hum, and he chuckles faintly. maneuvering you to look him in the eyes, sharing a kiss once more before he’s slipping a hand up your spine and flipping you over to tenderly lay you on your back with spread legs.

sitting upright to fist his soaked cock that’s still just as hard, right in front of your drooling pussy leaking his pearly cum. his jaw would be at his sternum in admiration if it weren’t for his trained self-control.

he takes a moment to smile down at his pretty mess, admiring that confused look in your hazy eyes. “i made you a promise, didn’t i?”

#i love him #kyle garrick #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick smut #gaz smut #cod mw

[cevansbrat0007]

On the Clock

Summary: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead.

Warnings: Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Oral Sex (fem rec), Finger Fucking, Ass Slapping, Ass Grabbing, Handcuffs (mentioned), Overstimulation (implied), Cursing, Pet Names, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are sincerely appreciated.

___

“Oh God, I–Beast!”

Your fist slams down on the desk as your legs threaten to give out from under you. It was all too much. Between each sinful flick of his tongue, and the delicate precision of his thick fingers roughly pumping in and out of your dripping pussy… 

You weren’t sure if you were actually going to survive. 

“Gimme one more, Bird. Just one.” Ari’s free hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp crack echoing through your tiny stockroom and spilling out into the shop. “You can do it.” 

A muffled sob escapes as you cling to the cool, flat surface for dear life while that same hand delivers another blow – this time giving your cheek a hard squeeze after it lands. His punishing grip all but ensuring that you’ll be heading home with fresh bruises, although he has yet to hear you complain. 

Especially after he just got done telling you that all your sweet curves belonged to him anyway. A fact that you were no longer as interested in disputing as you once used to be. Maybe it was because you enjoyed wearing his marks almost as much as he enjoyed giving them to you.  

The filthy wet squelch of his fingers as they ruthlessly fuck your cunt, along with with the sounds of your desperate cries, has you feeling grateful that there’s no one around to witness just how pitiful you must look. 

Of course you have Ari to thank for that, whose quick thinking brought you to this very moment. 

Which involves him kneeling between your parted thighs, eating your pussy from the back. Devouring you as if his life depends on it. And for all you knew, it did.

Because when Ari had sent you a message at 11:57am asking if you were free for a quick snack, you’d had no idea that he’d been referring to this. But then again, you also hadn’t had time to respond, what with you trying to box up orders for several waiting customers. 

Which meant that you’d been just as surprised as anyone when he strolled through the doors of Baubles & Quills less than ten minutes later, with his badge displayed on his hip and a scowl etched across his ruggedly handsome face.

Confused by his sudden presence, you’d offered him a brief smile before suggesting that he might be more comfortable waiting for you in the back. Of course your bounty hunter had declined, muttering something about “being on the clock”. And then he’d stood off in the corner glowering at the small group of patrons that were steadily occupying your time. 

Precious time that was apparently reserved for him.

Shaking your head, you’d simply returned your attention to running your business. If Ari had questions that needed answering before you were slated to see him tonight, then he was going to have to wait his turn. Afterall, you had bills to pay for both this place as well as your own home. And providing quality customer service was one way to ensure that you would be able to do all of that on time and in full.

However, that’s not to say that you weren’t affected by his presence. It was almost impossible to ignore the weight of his heavy gaze. Especially since your body felt the need to respond accordingly against your own best interests.

From your quickening pulse and pebbled nipples, to your slightly shaking hands and damp panties, your bounty hunter was not the type to be so easily relegated to the background. Nor was he the kind of man who would allow himself to be forgotten either.

Which was why you then witnessed Ari escort your last patron, the lovely Ms. Greta Thurman who was also pushing 80, out to her car with all the patience of a saint. Only for him to return seconds later, this time locking the door behind him and flipping your sign around to signal that the shop was closed – without your fucking permission.

You’d opened your mouth, fully prepared to protest such gross mistreatment. Only to swiftly think better of it the moment you’d gotten a good look at his face. And then he’d motioned for you to join him back in the stockroom, which had been roughly twenty minutes ago. And now…

Now, you were growing increasingly convinced you were going to die. And yet, the Beast at your back had the nerve to keep demanding that you give him one more. Always just one more. 

“Poor little Bird.” Ari hums, sounding slightly out of breath. But he doesn’t let that stop him, especially when he feels you clench around his fingers when they strum over that special spot inside you. “You might be done, but your pussy wants more.” His pointed tongue goes back to rhythmically lashing at your sensitive clit. 

Again and again. It was enough to drive a woman crazy.

“It’s so good, Beast! S’good!” You mewl, your short, blunt nails scraping against the desk. “S’goo–fuckfuckfuck!” Your ability to form coherent sentences has long since abandoned you, leaving you a sweaty, blubbering mess as your body works overtime to process the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“My greedy girl.” His harsh growl has your knees about ready to buckle. “Greediest pussy I’ve ever had.” Sensing you’re about to collapse, he removes his fingers from your wet heat, making you whine. And then he goes back to squeezing and kneading your ass, loving the way you rise up on your toes as he holds you open for his assault.

“Ari!” You continue to whine, wishing you still had his fingers buried deep in your cunt, even as your impending orgasm looms. He growls again in response, the heady vibrations pulsing through your entire overly stimulated body.

You try to run – attempting to climb over the desk in search of refuge – only for your bounty hunter to drag you back. 

“Try that shit again and I’ll cuff you.” Is the only gruff warning you receive before he goes back to lapping at your honeyed folds. The vulgar sounds he makes as he sucks and slurps at your heated flesh, demonstrating just how committed he is to his task.

And he positively hated being interrupted. Your vision blurs when he reaches around to stroke talented fingers along your swollen nub, taking special care not to send you over the edge until he felt you were ready.

Asshole.

Your hips continue to writhe and buck beneath his assault, but you don’t try to run again. And this time when your orgasm washes over you, it feels so good it hurts. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream as wave after wave of bliss sends your nerve endings buzzing. 

It was hands down some of the most exquisite pleasure you had ever experienced. 

Eventually Ari relaxes his hold, albeit rather reluctantly, before giving you a minute or two to get your bearings. “Thank you, baby.” He murmurs, the husky timbre of his voice sending another small jolt of white-hot electricity pulsing through you as he goes to stand up. “That should be enough to get me through.” 

“Huh?” Comes your weak reply. Frankly, he’s lucky to even get that. Right now you could barely function, let alone string together a damn sentence. But then it registers that he’s leaving. 

Even though he hadn’t –

“I really hate to eat and run, but I’m afraid I’m on the clock.” He winks at you, taking a moment to twirl your ruined panties around his index finger. “Just needed a taste of something sweet first.” He then tucks the garment into the back pocket of his jeans. 

At this rate, your entire underwear drawer was going to be empty before the month’s end. Which meant that you were going to have to put your foot down and demand he return them. At least a few pairs anyway. The brute wouldn’t be happy until you were walking around this town going commando. 

“Oh.” You mumble, feeling a pang of disappointment as you push your damp curls off of your forehead. “Um, okay.” But as quickly as it comes, it’s replaced by a fresh surge of heat in your belly when you finally notice the wetness still darkening his beard. Something he didn’t seem too worried about fixing.

“Aw, don’t look so disappointed, Bird.” His big hands go to frame your face, pulling you close to capture your lips in a heartfelt kiss that has you practically melting. And you can’t help the sliver of female satisfaction that slowly unfurls inside of you when you catch a hint of your warm, earthy scent on his skin. 

Because whether you realized it or not, you’d just marked your territory in a way no other woman could possibly compete with. This Beast was all yours for the time being. 

“There we go.” Grinning when you finally relax, your gentle giant pecks your lips one last time before stepping away from you. He winces slightly, adjusting his straining erection through his jeans, inwardly cursing the fact he had an appointment across town that he was probably already late for. “I’ll be at your place no later than 8:00pm with takeout from Mi Patron. Text me what you want and then be sure to call when you’re locking up, okay?”

“Okay, Ari.” You breathe, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip. “It’s a date.” On impulse, you raise up on your toes and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down for one last kiss – which he eagerly accepts without an ounce of fight. 

“Sorry.” Is all you say when you finally allow yourselves to come up for air. In truth, you weren’t feeling even remotely apologetic. But you did have an image to maintain so… “Must’ve lost my balance.”

“Right.” Ari whistles low, shaking his head as he pins you with a knowing look. “I’ll see you later. Behave while I’m gone, sweet girl.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads in the direction of your front door. Leaving you alone to make peace with the fact that you were falling for this man.

“I’m doomed.” You mutter, staring down at your bare toes while you debate your next move. On one hand, you supposed you could always skip town. But given his profession, you reasoned he’d be able to track you down with relative ease. 

Well, there went that option. With a sigh you bend down to pick up your capris so you can go about making yourself look presentable again, sans panties. The way you saw it, the only choice you had left was to go down swinging. Which made sense. And if that was the case, then…

“I’m taking you down with me, Levinson.”

END

___

Unofficial Tag List

@daykrisr99

@identity2212

#cevansbrat007 Sweet Renegade Series #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x you #ari levinson x you #chris evans x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #chris evans x black reader #ari levinson x black reader #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female!reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #ari levinson x yn #chris evans x yn #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans x y/n #ari levinson girlfriend!reader #chris evans x fem!reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x poc!reader

[frenchkisstheabyss]

🖤 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖆𝖓 🖤

🖤 Pairing: ex boyfriend!choi san x chubby!fem!reader (mingi's spoken about but doesn't appear)

🖤 Genre: angst/fluff/smut

🖤 Summary: You make a living stepping on men's necks, literally and metaphorically speaking. Men spend every dime they have for the chance to be your lapdog. You are their weakness. Your dirty little secret? You have a weakness of your own, one you've tried your hardest to leave in the past, but you've managed to make him jealous and, oh, I think he's knocking on your door right now.

🖤 Word Count: 2.3k-ish

🖤 Warnings: reader works as a dom so she does qualify as a ✨sex worker✨ & it's treated as a positive cause slay queen, jealous /possessive San, unprotected sex, fingering, nibbling, scratching, reader for sure has a lil praise kink, this man does not pull out, San's giving dom vibes & reader's quite subby for him, pet names (baby, my girl, good girl) & that's all darlings

🖤 A/N: My chubby girl smut agenda continues with this fic as it will with all others and the best part is, no one can stop me. Mwahahahaha. No, but really, I hope you lovelies enjoy reading it.

Also a big thanks to @anyamaris for test reading everything my brain throws out all of the time. Love of my life, truly.

Your night routine is sacred. Never more so than on nights like tonight when you take extra steps to make it particularly romantic for yourself. You treat yourself like a lover, running a nice warm bubble bath and preparing your favorite fruits to snack on while you soak in it. You don’t rush to cover your body afterward, instead taking the time to find pleasure in every stretch mark and every curve as you massage rich tropical oils into your skin. 

The rain is your companion, singing to you in the form of raindrops patting at your window. Candles burn on your windowsill, tiny lanterns reflecting shadows in the darkness of this place you call home. Crawling into your bed, you slip beneath your freshly washed sheets and scroll through your phone to find the right song. It doesn’t take long to find it. You hit “play” and close your eyes, ready to be swept away by the sweet notes emanating from your phone. 

This is serenity. This is heaven. This is—

“What the actual fuck?” you shout, shaken by an unexpected knock at your door. The knocking is impatient, the agitation of the person on the other end undeniable. You jump from your bed, the sheet still clinging to your figure, and cautiously approach the door. You specifically didn’t schedule any sessions for tonight and your clients know better than to pop up unannounced. 

“Whoever you are, go away! I have a gun!” You do. You have to. In your line of business being able to protect yourself is a necessity. It’d be silly not to have one and if ever there were an example why, this has to be it. The knocking stops. A brief moment of silence passes and then—

“You have a gun?” San asks, more confused than he is threatened. You don’t notice until now that you’ve been holding your breath this entire time but at the sound of his voice, you can miraculously breathe again. “San? What are you doing here?” you frown, cracking the door enough to get a good look at your ex.

The look is, in fact, good. Better than good, it’s wonderful. For all of this mysterious frustration he seems to be carrying, he still manages to be the most handsome thing you can imagine finding in your hallway near midnight. 

San pushes past you, marching into your cozy studio apartment as if it were his own. “We need to talk. Now.” You roll your eyes, holding back laughter as you close the door behind him. “Someone’s sassy tonight” you tease, watching as he removes his wet boots and coat. He places them exactly where they’re meant to go.

You smile to yourself, finding it sweet that he still remembers how things go after nearly a year apart. “Don’t patronize me.” “I’m not patronizing you,” you say, approaching him with a hand outstretched to stroke his cheek, “Sannie—” 

San takes a step back, the darkness in his eyes intensified by your attempt at affection. “And don’t call me that!” “Lower your voice! This is my home. You can respect me in it or get out.” Seeing you upset cools him down a bit. Enough to question the emotions that led him to drive over here to begin with.

He shouldn’t be here. He has no right to confront you. To care what you do or who you do it with. But it’s been eating him up inside for days, plaguing his every waking thought. Some part of him is still tethered to you and that’s why, against his better judgment, he’s here.

“Are you…” he stutters, the anger bubbling up once more at the thought of what he’s about to ask, “How long has Mingi been coming to you?” “Ah,” you gasp, fully realizing the awkwardness of the situation. Dodging eye contact, you head for the kitchen, busying yourself with the tea kettle. “You want some tea? We should have tea.”

Raking his fingers through delicate strands of pitch black hair, he approaches the kitchen and lets himself, for the most fleeting of moments, enjoy seeing you like this again. He’s missed you making him tea late at night. This would be everything he ever wanted under any other circumstance than this. “I don’t want tea. I want you to answer my question. How long?”

“A few weeks” you sigh, abandoning the kettle on the counter, “We ran into each other at the club one night and we started talking then, I mean, I don’t know, it just sorta happened.” In an instant, he’s on you, fingers squeezing your wrists as he presses you against the counter. “Things like this don’t sorta happen!” “Oh, come on, San. I have bills to pay. If I don’t take on clients, who’s gonna pay them? You?” “Haven’t I before?” Something about being reminded of before makes you as breathless as he is. “That was a long time ago.” 

A long time ago but why does it feel like yesterday when he last had your body pressed against every wall in this apartment? So many hours were spent using your fingertips to traverse every exquisite muscle on his body. There are new ones now, you see them flex when he readjusts his grip on you. How good they must feel to touch. God bless the gym.

Shaking yourself free of your lust fueled daze, you break your wrists loose from him. “If that’s all you can go.” Why are you doing this? Why are you so stubborn? You don’t want him to go. Your body—your heart—begs him to stay even if it’s just to argue for the rest of the night. 

“Fine, I’ll leave, but not until you tell me one more thing. Does he touch you? Like I did?” he asks, his expression cold as he tries to contain his jealousy. “Touch me like you did?” you giggle, reaching to stroke his cheek again. This time he doesn’t step away. He lets you touch him, your soft hand warming the cool raindrops on his cheek. A fire ignites in his eyes, not unlike the flames dancing atop the candle wicks. It’s distant, buried somewhere deep, but you see it and it makes you smile.

“I never let anyone touch me like you did” you whisper, “Mingi just wants someone to boss him around. I happen to be good at that. There’s nothing sexual. I could…” San tugs the sheet tightly around your body, gathering the two loose ends at your hip where his knuckles just barely graze the plush of your thigh. You let out a sound that’s almost a moan but not quite. He smirks, bringing his other hand to your side to massage the softness of your love handles. You're so cute when you’re flustered.

“I, uh, I…” you stutter, watching as his lips grow nearer to yours, “I could stop seeing him if you want.” “You’d do that for me?” San asks, teasing your lower lip with his. “I would do anything for you. You know that.” This is what he does to you and this is why you broke things off with him. San’s love brings you to your knees. You fold for him in a millisecond. You’re supposed to have every man in the palm of your hand yet you find yourself, delicate and fragile, nestled in his. 

“Will you do something else for me?” “Like what?” “Kiss me.” And you do. No hesitation. No time for second guesses. Anything for him. A rush hits you, threatening to knock you off of your feet. San only holds you closer, his tongue tangling with yours, indulging in the taste of you. A craving much overdue to be satisfied. 

“Do I still have to leave?” he pants, his voice a low rasp as he kisses his way down your chin. He buries his face in your neck, his kisses growing more passionate with each passing second. You smell good enough to eat and he almost does, nibbling at your neck sharply enough to send chills down your spine. You shake your head, wrapping a leg around his waist to grind against him. The simple act of kissing you has him hard enough that not even the few layers of fabric between you can suppress his need. 

“Fuck, baby” he groans, his eyes nearly rolling back from the rhythm of your hips. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him back up for another kiss. “Don’t leave me, Sannie. Please.” You’re prepared to beg more, as much as he wants you to, but your words turn incoherent at the sensation of his thumb stroking your clit. His other fingers dance dangerously close to your entrance, happily collecting the juices dripping from your core.

You look down to find that the sheet barely clings to your body, except for a small corner stuck between you and the counter. Everything has fallen away leaving you completely exposed. San’s favorite way to have you. “You’re so wet for me. My girl” he coos, easing two fingers deep into you, “Still my girl? Hmm?” You’re trembling, gripping his shirt as you ride his fingers in time with the flicking of his wrist.

Only he could do this. Make you feel this unbelievably good with just his fingers. "Always your girl. Always—ah” you moan into his mouth before he’s kissing his way down your neck again. The way your back is arched makes your breasts sit so deliciously that he has to taste them. San needs to feel the weight of them in his hands as he captures your perked nipples between his lips, circling them with his tongue. 

His mouth is so full of you that every moan that leaves him vibrates through your chest making sure that you never once underestimate the intensity of his longing. Your thighs are soaked, your pussy dripping—pulsing—clenching around his fingers. Your little squeaks and moans are too pretty. Too addictive. San picks up speed, his only mission to make a complete mess of you or to make you make a complete mess of yourself. Either or both. Definitely both. 

“Sannie. You’re gonna make me—fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cry, feeling the pressure build within you. “Mmm,” he hums, releasing your nipple but not without taking one last lick of your overstimulated bud. You didn’t need to tell him. You never do. He knows when you're close, down to the second, which is why his timing is perfect when he pulls his fingers away leaving you hanging on the edge of oblivion.

You whine at the unexpected loss, your clit twitching and your walls greedy for something to hold onto. San moves out of reach, taking his time to shed his clothing. “Not on my fingers, baby,” he says, flashing that devilishly handsome smile of his, “On me.” He disappears around the corner and you trail behind him like a bright eyed puppy who wants more than anything to be the object of its owner's affection.

San sits on the edge of the bed, admiring the way your body jiggles as you skip over to him. He takes you by the hand, lowering you onto his lap, and the skin to skin contact sends a shot of adrenaline coursing through both of you. “I could just look at you all night. So beautiful” he muses, palms slapping your ass. His fingers dig in, keeping your hips raised enough that the tip of his cock almost presses at your slit.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, kissing him on the bridge of his nose, “You can look at me all you want.” One of San’s hands disappears beneath you, stroking his length as he lowers you down onto him. He stops at the tip, letting your arousal run down his shaft. “All I want because you belong to me?” You bite down on your bottom lip, eager to take him. “Yes,” you mewl and he feeds you another inch. A reward for being his good girl.

“No more Mingi?”

“No more. I swear.” 

Another inch and your heart skips a beat. This is evil. “No more anyone else” he demands, taunting you with one more inch before taking it back, “I’ll take care of you, my sweet girl. Only me.” “Only you” you promise, unintentionally batting your eyelashes in the most innocent way. San grabs your hips, slamming you down onto him, “Good now cum for me.”

Being stretched by him, full of every thick rigid inch of his cock, is intoxicating enough. But the feeling of handing over control, of letting him have you completely, has you buzzing. San bounces you in his lap, kissing you everywhere his lips can access, whispering every praise he’s saved up for you over time.

Precious. Perfect. Never letting go. Love you. My everything. My world. Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Sannie—” you draw a breath in. A flash of heat hits you and you’re lost to pleasure. Your body explodes and implodes. Heavy and weightless all at once. You gush down his length, every inch of him drenched with your juices. San doesn’t stop, not even when your nails dig deep into the skin of his shoulder. He only goes faster and harder, wanting to break you, his precious girl, and put you back together then do it again. 

But his body’s as sensitive as yours and he can’t hold back, spilling into you to the point of overflow. There’s so much warmth and fullness. It’s comforting, soothing you as you gradually float back down. Lying back on the bed, San cradles you in his arms, not wanting to be anywhere else than right here with you.

You rest your head on his chest, feeling his love for you in every breath he takes. How you ever pushed him away you can’t understand but you know, as he softly kisses your forehead, that you never will again.

#choi san x reader #choi san x you #choi san angst #choi san smut #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x female reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

[missglaskin]

Yan!Targaryen Men (Jacaerys, Maegor, Aemond, Aegon I, Baelon, Daemon, Viserys III, Aegon II, Rhaegar) with sister!Darling 

Note-I hope this doesn’t get a rating like my other posts. Also, I don’t specify if the reader is adopted or not to be exclusive  

There’s no greater love than one found at home 

Tags: Pure filthy smut, unhealthy/toxic relationship, obsession/possessiveness, a kinda bloodplay, breeding kink/fantasy, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), pussy slapping/spanking, marks and cuts (sexual), co-dependency, skincare (don’t ask) 

Jacaerys 

Any lady would wish to have a brother like yours. So sweet and gentle. A brother who listens to every word of his sister. Always dancing with her at feasts. Giving her flowers just to make her smile. They find his protectiveness over you to be adorable. Not knowing it’s from a fear of losing you to another man. 

Naturally, like everyone else, you were an admirer of many handsome bachelors. Whether it was a lord, a knight, or some blacksmith. Yet each turned you down. They made sure to be careful with their words, as you were a princess. And each time you ran into your brother’s arms in tears. Utterly unaware, he whispered threats into their ears.  

The two of you shared a bed. Something your mother disapproved of. But no matter her attempts, the servants report finding you wrapped in each other’s arms. There was a reassurance it was merely innocent and harmless. The act under the sheets begs to differ from the way your brother is humping you from behind. 

There was a sense of shame in Jace’s actions. But who else deserves to take your maidenhood other than him. Though he waited and waited. Still, the two of you found a way. Light shared and moans shared between-his hardened cock covered by loose fabric as you grind your pussy against it. 

There’s also you two tangled in the sheets, messaging your tongue with his own. You clench tightly around his fingers that’s buried deep inside your core, pumping you relentlessly. All while his hips thrust into the grip you have on his cock. Groaning louder each time you squeeze at the head. 

When it finally happens. Jace has become addicted to the warmth of your pussy. He was already addicted to the feeling of his fingers playing with your dripping folds. Already addicted to his tongue lapping up your pussy, drinking in your juice. This was nothing like he ever experienced, and if Jace could, he’ll die with his cock buried deep inside of you. 

Learning Valryian was necessary. It is your mother’s tongue. The lesson, however, becomes difficult when Jace presses the head of his length against your entrance, slowly filling you up as you sit down on him. You and Jace try to recite what you know. Resisting the urge to roll his hips and your squirming doesn’t help, either. It all ends the same each time with Jace having enough, gripping your waist and moving your hips. 

Jace sometimes dreams of seeing your belly swollen with his child. He can't imagine being with anyone else but you. He wants the perfect life, to be an adoring husband to a devoted wife surrounded by children who resemble you more. It will all come due in time.

Maegor 

To you and everyone else, your brother let it be known of his desire. It is within his right to want you, to have you. What man would have a better claim for his sweet sister than her own brother. Even more who dares to refuse him, to refuse the dragon. 

Your brother wanted to be the first of your everything. Your first love. Your first kiss. Your first fuck. From your mind, to your body, to your heart, to your soul. They were all his. Every inch of you belongs to him. He will give a fate worse than death to a man who dared to steal his ‘right’. 

Maegor breeds you at every chance he gets. Filling your little cunt with his massive cock. Tears coat your eyes at how he pounds into you so mercilessly. Broken moans slip from your bruised lips, feeling his hot cum flood your insides. Numbness taking over your senses. 

There’s no rest even in your sleep. Waking up to Maegor buried deep inside you. It happens so often that you merely lay there and have him do all the work. His cock squelching into your heat, moaning his name as the two of you inch closer and closer to an orgasm. Maegor loves the sight of your pussy as cum oozes out of it, pushing the tip right in front of your  entrance to keep it all in-not wanting to waste a drop of his seed. 

As much as he hates wasting his seed, he also loves the view of you on his knees, eagerly taking him. A hand on your head guiding you up and down on his cock. His sheer size makes you choke and gag every time. When it’s done as a form of punishment, you’re pulled until your nose nudges against his balls. 

Obedience is expected from you. Not only is he older than you, he’s your king. Disobeying him will result in your ass feeling sore, a burning sensation from his assault. You’re to count each one, otherwise, he’ll start all over again. Your pussy is also swollen and drenched from his hand, slapping it when you move too much. 

After making such a mess of you, he has you join him in the bath. The water so warm, it almost stings your skin. Sitting in Maegor's lap, your head resting on his shoulder as his hand traces your back. It’s an intimate moment filled with silence. Peace. 

His wives mean nothing compared to you, and they were reminded of this every day. Any night he spends with one of them would be returned tenfold. A whisper in his ear is all it takes to get rid of each of them. A sweet sister is all he needs to love him, to satisfy him, to bear him heirs.

Aemond

You and Aemond standing side to side may have looked nowhere alike, but the two of you were attached to the hip as though you were twins. Even when each had different duties. Your brother being taught to wield a sword while you were taught to courtesy and dance. 

Your brother believed the two of you were meant to wed one day. It was tradition with Aegon wed to Helaena, so it’s only fair for him to wed you as well. The two of you shared a bond like no other and who else understands, loves, and cares for his sweet sister as he does. 

Aemond wants the best for you. It’s his duty as your brother. Demanding that you read, that you study philosophy and history. That you learn the language of your ancestors. Though you’re not to blame when finding those lessons to be boring, your brother is furious when you refuse to pay attention. Your stomach on his lap, ass sore from the strikes of his hand. It’s for your own good, he tells you. 

When it comes to reciting what you know, your brother makes you lay over his lap. His hand on your cunt. Fingers caressing your folds when you get the answers right. Halting his movements when you forget or get the answers wrong. But in the end, he’ll give in to your begging, helping you reach your release. 

Aemond likes to believe he’s giving. Cheeks messy with slick as his tongue laps up against your sensitive pussy from the many times you reached your release. Reaching it once more when his fingers thrust in and out of you all while his mouth sucks on your clit. But it’s never enough for Aemond, continuing to sloppily feast on your cunt until you can no longer take it. 

Your brother wasn’t only obsessed with the taste of your tongue, but the feeling of it wrapped around his cock. There should be shame; Taking your maidenhood, but it’ll be bound to happen so why not indulge himself now. Besides, you tempted him like a seductress, latching onto him, yearning for the heat of his cock, and who is he to deny you. 

There’s no greater feeling than this. The feeling of his cock sinking into you, filling you up so well, and stretching you with every thrust. Pushing his hips as deep as he can, wanting to drown himself in your cunt. Groaning when the blunt head of his cock grazes your cervix. Your nails dig into his back, and Aemond hisses when feeling lines of blood-forming. It arouses him even further. 

Aemond was a man whose actions were said better than his words. But there are times where confessions are made. Bodies drenched in sweat, calming itself from the violet highs. And in the dawn of night, you hear the whispers, so faint. And you realize just how deep the love Aemond has for you. The madness in his eye showing its blazing intensity.

Aegon I

Your brother Aegon, as he did with Visenya, married you out of duty. His true love was Rhaenys. A sad truth you must accept. As the youngest sister, you looked up to your big brother, always following him around, eager to please him, to make him happy. 

Aegon finds himself indulging in your eagerness. Allowing you to scrub his body in the bath or undress him late at night. His most preferred is when you’re helping him shave his beard. Seated on his lap with his hands on your waist, and Aegon can’t help but watch you be so focused and take great care to be careful. 

Unlike your sisters, Aegon didn’t want you to fight. Even preferred it if you didn’t claim a dragon. Insisting your purpose was to wait for him when it was time to visit your chambers. And when he did, Aegon smelled like dragon and his eyes widened in lust at the sheer nightgown wore. In mere seconds, it was ripped to shreds. 

His reason for visiting you late at night is before you was Visenya, and before Visenya was Rhaenys. The night is spent with you bent over, his hips ramming into yours. Hands gripping the sheets as his cock pumped in and out of your tight hole. And when it was all set and done, the two of you reaching your high. He always left, and you knew deep inside, it was right back to Rhaenys. 

But soon Visenya notices Aegon’s presence lessens and more shocking when Rhaenys does. The chambers of your room are filled with everything your heart desires, from the rarest of books to every instrument and painted color imagined. The dresses becoming more and more lavished, all in the house of colors. What catches most attention is the valyrian steel necklace placed around your neck. 

His jealousy was one of fire. Easily ignited and hard to put out. Pushed to the wall with Aegon lifting your dress up. A dark look on his face as he lines his cock to your entrance. Making you adjust to his size and brutal pace. He demands to not hold in your moans, to let every single person in the castle know who you belong to. The poor bastard that caused it is currently residing in Balerion's stomach. 

In the throne room, where the halls are empty. Safe for the King and his sister-wife who’s on top of him, bouncing on his cock. Your hips gripped by Aegon, moving you up and down as he drives himself deeper into your aching cunt. Moans, groans, and skin slapping echo through the great halls. Some cuts occur, a few stings, but the pleasure helps in numbing them. 

A true testament to your brother’s love was when the two of you were standing in a mirror. Both bare as you gazed at your reflection. Stunned when Aegon places the crown, the king’s crown on your head. It’s all yours, the kingdom, the throne, him; they all belong to you. His hand reaches down to your belly. It also belongs to them. What if it’s a girl, you ask him. It’s still theirs, he claims.

Baelon

Such a sweet and kind princess you were. Loved by the court and the common people alike. Your parent’s pride and joy, a sentiment your brother shared. Baelon’s fondness for his sister was well-known around the realm. If one needs to find Baelon, they must first find you, as your brother rarely left your side. 

It doesn’t arouse any suspicions when your brother shoos any of your suitors away. Nor when his hands are on your lower back as you dance. Not when he kisses your cheeks at your name day. Neither when he rubs his thumb on your lower lip to wipe the frosting or cream. They all believe it’s just Baelon looking after his innocent and sweet sister. 

Then again, there are no eyes under the table where your brother’s hand is buried between your legs. Your thighs squeeze the hand to restrict its movements, but all it does is make him dig his fingers even deeper into your core. Baelon has the nerve to have those same fingers in his mouth afterward, tasting your release all while his eyes are on yours. 

With Baelon, most of your mornings are awakened by a sensation between your legs and a knot in your stomach. Opening your eyes to see your brother sucking the clit into his mouth. Pulling away with your arousal coating his lips as he teasingly greets you with a ‘good morning’. 

Any time you are soaking yourself in warm water. It’s almost as if your brother has a sixth sense. Coincidently being there, and he doesn’t even bother asking. Sinking in the warm water and immediately pulling you onto his lap. And somehow it always ends with most of the water spilling out on the floor. You eagerly moving up and down on your brother’s length. 

The dragon’s blood courses through Baelon’s veins and you’re reminded by his fire when he’s green with envy. Making such a mess out of you as he slams his cock into your hole, hand making contact with your ass cheek. Overstimulating you as he pumps a load after another. In your broken moans and whines, your brother makes you repeat that you belong to him over and over. 

Sometimes you wonder if Baelon wants others to find you in these compromising positions. With how often he drags you out of feasts and tourneys. When the two of you return, you’re forced to lean on him as your knees are wobbly and your whole body feels sore. Not to mention the mixture of our arousal sliding down your thighs. 

Baelon worships the ground you walk on. He might even worship you. You certainly taste like nectar on his tongue, a nectar created by the gods. You’re a perfect creature in his eyes. If Baelon could, he’ll gift you the whole  world in his hands. But if you were ever to leave, Baelon will want to burn it all down and himself so he can see a glimpse of your face again. 

Daemon

Viserys and Daemon loved their little sister. They took you wherever they went, their protectiveness and love clearly seen. But Viserys knew the bond between you and Daemon was nowhere near the one he had with either of you. It was evident even to the court.

You were his. A constant reminder that loomed over you. Everything belonged to him, everything. Your eyes, only for him to gaze at. Your lips, only for him to kiss. Your body, only for him to touch. Your heart, only for him to keep. Your cunt, only for him to breed. 

No other man deserves this. Deserves you. You were made for him. Carved and sculpted by the gods as a gift. Any man or woman who takes what is rightfully his. He’ll behead them and fuck you right next to their corpses, or better yet, he’ll make them watch. Letting it be the last thing they see before meeting their timely demise. 

Daemon takes joy in bullying you. Railing you from behind as your hands grip the window rails. Taunting you on how much of a slut you’re, taking his cock like your pussy was made for it. When he notices you biting your lips to hold your moans as those under will hear, he will spank your pussy every time you do so. He wants them to hear, to watch his sister being so drunk on his cock. 

At tourneys, you’re in the front, thighs clenched together at the sight of your brother’s prowess. It doesn’t matter whether he comes victorious. Daemon makes it a ritual to fuck you after each tourney. When victorious, every time he crowns you as the queen of love and beauty, later in his chambers, having you ride him to your liking. But when he loses, your ass is left sore and bruised as Daemon ruthlessly pounds into your dripping hole, fucking you full of his cum. 

In front of others, it is almost as if your brother’s arousal heightens. Teasing you under the table, his eyes never leaving your face just to watch how it twitches and how your lips are pressed in a thin line, doing everything to not break, not to fall apart from his fingers playing with your cunt. 

No matter how many tongues are silenced or people sent away, it doesn’t stop the rumors that circulate around the castle. The servants claim to catch the two of you in intimate positions. Found in some hall with you between your brother’s legs. A messenger once walked on him thrusting hard and deep into you, still counting his pace the rogue prince simply asks who sent for it. 

You can never deny your brother. For his violence, ruthlessness, and arrogance. There was the intense love and loyalty he had for you. One you will never find in another man. Daemon didn’t need to utter the three words. When he claims that he’ll burn cities to the ground, it’s not an empty promise. It was also his gentleness that was granted only to you. 

Viserys III

There were only three-you, Viserys, and Daenerys. They were all you had-your father, mother, and big brother all gone. Your memories were still there, the good and the bad. And most of all you remembered your brother before he became the man he was. The sweet and devoted Viserys, now cruel and mad. 

To Viserys you are his greatest strength as much as you are his greatest weakness. You are his to have, his to claim, his to fuck, his to hurt, his to love. A wine for him to drink and drink until he’s drunk under your sweet words and touches. Away from him in a day is a day to you, but to Viserys, it’s as if months have passed without your presence.

Your body belonged solely to him. The mere idea of anyone touching or gazing at it will send him into a frenzy of rage. It wasn’t the servants dressing you instead; it was your brother Viserys, styling you in the way he sees fit. Even bathing you, scrubbing your body as he joins you, expecting you to return the favor. 

You weren’t ignorant of your brother’s lust. Noticing where his hands trailed when he’d undress you. How he pulls you to sit on his lap. And your brother’s meanness was seen in how he shoves his fingers in your mouth, watching with great entertainment as you gag and drool all over his fingers. Scolding you for the noises you make and how you’re moving your hips against him. 

Viserys will marry you against Illyrio's advice. It was his destiny and duty. There’s no better suitor than his own sister and no better suitor for you than your own brother. Almost every day Viserys breeded you. It’s up to you and him to continue your bloodline, to bear him heirs when he claims the iron throne. 

Viserys’ jealousy was a dangerous one. Receiving his known saying, do not wake the dragon. Even your sister Daenerys wasn’t safe from his jealousy. Viserys already resented her for killing your mother. He tells her it’s only he who deserves to touch you, to hold you. It’s one of the reasons he was so eager to marry her off to Khal Drogo. As it means having you all to himself. 

Viserys is hardly slow and gentle in his thrusts, and how can he when feeling your insides wrap around his cock, clenching him so tightly. Feeling as if he’s losing his sanity at how drunk he’s on your pussy. With any other, he’d be embarrassed at how loud he is. But with you, his dear sweet sister, Viserys isn’t ashamed to cry out your name. Moaning how good you feel around him, demanding you call him your king. 

Tell me you love me. Was something you often heard from your brother. When he heard them call him ‘the beggar king’. After he caused a tantrum because you were too ‘nice’ to another person. When he lays his head on your chest every night. It almost is a recital, where you tell him you do love him, cradling his face and kissing him to ease any of his doubt.

Aegon II

As children, Aegon teased you as any brother would. But he was far more attached to you than Aemond, and certainly Helaena. Your mother thought the relationship was a harmless one. It’s until your brother became a man and you a lady, did your mother start to separate the both of you. 

It never worked. Aegon made you come to him at any time of need. Your finger is cut, no worries, he'll help you. Placing the said finger in his mouth, sucking on the blood as you watch him. At the time of your month, he’ll press kisses on your tummy to make you feel better, only for his lips to go lower and lower. 

Aegon’s intentions are never good. Such as when your brother sweetly offers you to taste your favorite pastry, only for him to dip his fingers in the said pastry. Having you lick and suck his fingers clean to which you start gagging when he shoves it further inside your mouth. 

His greatest weakness was the sight of your breasts. No matter how big or small they were, it’s a sight to behold. Only for his eyes to see. Capturing your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly leaving you with the feeling of soreness afterward. 

He’ll also fuck your tits. Fisting his cock as his tip nudges the stiff buds, smearing them with pre-cum. Or better yet rubbing them against the skin between your breasts. Spurting his release all over your chest and some splattering into your face, making him hard all over again as soon as your tongue makes contact with his cum.

With Aegon, there’s never a dull day. Always wanting to try something new. Forced to eat fruits such as strawberries and pineapples all day by your brother until your stomach aches. All because Aegon overheard they will make your pussy taste sweeter. 

During tourneys, you and Aegon are nowhere to be found. Using this opportunity to fuck you in the chambers of those who angered him. Some lord judgmentally looked at him. He will have your back laid on their table with him pounding into you, having all their works scattered on the floor. His brother made a comment on his drinking. He’ll plunge his cock into your dripping pussy on his bed. Leaving behind such a mess for Aemond to find. He’ll even sneak you into some of the lord’s carriages, so when they are to leave, they’ll feel something sticky and wet on their seats. 

When he became king, Aegon would have you ride him on the iron throne. Your stomach is still in knots and your legs are on fire when he and you reach your high. Your brother then makes you sit on the throne all while he’s on his knees, face surrounded by your thighs. Aegon may wear the crown of the conqueror, but it’s you who pulls the strings.

Rhaegar 

In the stories where you hear of tall handsome princes, Rhaegar was one to come to mind. All ladies seem to think so. Eagerly surrounding and pursuing him. With the customs of your house, the ladies saw you as a competition for their prince. They were not far off, as the handsome Rhaegar’s heart was yours to have. 

The gods have blessed your brother with such beauty. That is a work of art. Compared to his, yours seemed inadequate. A thought that you believed almost broke his heart. Morning to night, your brother’s delicate hands trailed your body, soft lips brushing against the skin. All done to prove you were worthy of such a title, a title of beauty, and one deserving of his affection. 

Though the violet eyes that watched you always held a fondness. A fondness reserved only for you. Watching you do the most mundane things, even eating. Chuckling when the food’s remains would adhere to your lips or trail down, to which your brother wipes it for you. A certain gleam in his eye. 

Every morning, it was your brother who took care of your hair. Whether it’s brushing, braiding, or dipping his fingers in the coconut oil to apply it to your hair. Rhaegar loved taking care of your skin as well. Having you completely bare while he spreads the lotion at every inch of the skin, trailing dangerously close to your lower region. 

There was some resistance against his temptations. Rhaegar will be a patient man for a time, yet his father refused to announce the union. It was seen in how he’d check for you at night, tucking you in and giving you a gentle kiss on the head. Each time, it took all his strength to deny your request for him to join you. But when his patience ran thin and his strength weakened, he slipped behind the covers. A habit came to be with the prince leaving your chambers every early morning. 

With the night sky being your only witness, Rhaegar lays between your legs. Drinking you in like a starved man. The chambers’ walls echo the sound of your moans, hand down pushing his face even further. Your brother groans when you gush against his tongue, arousal coating his cheek and chin. 

Clutching him to your body, your eyes find his. Rhaegar presses his forehead to yours as his cock sank into your pussy. He could worship the sight of your face contorting to pleasure, worship the sounds of your moans in his ear. Your back arches and legs weakly wrap around his waist as he pounds your cunt. Your brother whispers nothing but sweet praises.

Outside the covers of your sheets, your brother also worshiped you. His heart was in your hands. You can break it over and over, and it still beats for you. You are his and he’s yours till the end of days, how he dreams of reciting your wedding vows to one another. How he dreams of you giving him a prince. The three-headed-dragon, words your brother muttered more than once.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere game of thrones #yandere asoiaf #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaegar targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon i targaryen x reader #baelon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #maegor targaryen x reader #viserys iii targaryen x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #asoiaf x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut #yandere x reader

[smiley-babe]

i was sending lolly this thirst and got carried away…

so lemme just yell about it lmao

warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, sort of rough sex, marking, (izuku is thick and he’s a lil mean about it), overstimulation

my goodness izuku… he’s like the perfect man you could ever ask for. strong, handsome features, kind, attentive. there’s one small flaw that always ends up with you in trouble though.

izuku’s jealousy is hard to see for those who don’t know him. he still looks polite, all smiles. the change is mostly in his eyes. the usual cheery green resembling pools of poisonous green liquid.

so when he finds you chatting it up with an old classmate, a male for that matter he can’t handle it. he has this need to protect you from the opposite sex. men can be… vial. he knows it as a hero and a man himself. as well as the protection, he has this overwhelming need to claim you. to leave the darkest marks on any skin that can be exposed from your clothes with his lips and maybe his hands. his favorite part is pumping you so full of him it ruins the sheets.

“no one can touch you like this, can they baby?” two thick fingers find themselves deep in your cunt, reaching one of your spots so easily. a shudder runs up your spine and you shake your head. “use your words.” fuck his tone is so much more different than normal.

“n- no ‘zuku they can’t.” he usually melts at the whines in your voice but he’s so fucking furious. finding another man touching you, brushing your hair behind your ear intimately. spikes his blood pressure awfully and it takes so much in him not to crush the man’s hand.

next thing you know you’re on a silent drive home with izuku. this is the most quiet he’s been since you’ve been together, usually talkative and full of laughter. not this time. doesn’t even waste time when you get home. “strip,” is all he utters. which is how you end up splayed open on your shared bed while he fills you with two fingers.

he adds a third one and watches you gush all over him. “there you go. give it to me.” he’s so hyperfocused on making you cum, watching your pussy spread open every time he pushes his digits into you.

then when he gets you into the meanest arch, hand wrapped around your throat as cock pounds into you, you know there's no way to stop him. the force of his thrust has the headboard banging against the wall. He's so deep and his tip keeps slamming into your cervix over and over. when you try to move your hips forward he's quick to grip them with large scarred hands. "don't run from it now. take every single inch of your cock."

gets you into a harsh mating press, drilling you deeply and ignoring the incessant whines of how it's too much. "you wanted this," is all he says while he continues to fuck you completely full on his thick dick. your small hands pushing at his lower abdomen is absolutely futile and you don't know why you try.

the man isn't done until you've squirted all over him and he's unloaded into you twice. until your skin is marked almost everywhere, blooming purples all over. until he's made it clear that you're his and his alone.

izuku may seem suffocating with this type of envious behavior but you quite enjoy it. it shows he loves you and he never wants anyone else to have you.

tags: @delirious-donna @chosovixen @luvkun4 @lex-dear @noritopia @heibunniie @satorhime

#izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #izuku smut #izuku midoriya #bnha smut #smiley’s works <3

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Family Planning

Life slows down once everyone is safely back on Pabu, and maybe now it’s time to start focusing on what you both want for the future.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: breeding kink, very very brief and vague medical procedure (birth control removal), established relationship, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, pre-established safe word (always play safe, folks), oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, scent kink, light marking, bandana as bondage, light hair pulling, love and fluff, soft aftercare.

“I can put a replacement in immediately if you’d like?” The doctor asked, turning in his chair, ready to remove the expired birth control implant buried in your upper arm. 

“Urm…” You paused, not entirely sure what you wanted to do. Honestly, you’d forgotten about the small plastic rod under your skin until Hunter had offhandedly commented that you smelt a little sweeter this cycle.

He sat beside you now, warm brown eyes sliding in your direction as the doctor waited for your answer. With nothing to do this afternoon, he’d offered to come with you to the appointment you’d made at Pabu’s only clinic. After four years at his side, having been assigned as the squad’s civilian handler at the start of the war, nothing was sacred anymore. Even more so after you’d fallen into bed together two years ago. 

Two years of waking up next to each other, of stolen kisses and wandering hands, of knowing looks and being railed against the nearest surface. Two years of ‘I love you’ and ‘stay safe out there.’

During the war, the two of you had discussed a family late at night, tucked away in a bunk together, voices whisper soft and full of hope.

Now, life had slowed. After rescuing Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from Mount Tantiss, you’d slipped off the Empire’s radar and had settled down properly on the tropical island. You had a home and a routine, were on a first-name basis with the locals, and even snagged a teaching job at the school.

Eyes shifting to meet Hunter’s, you chew on the inside of your lip. Was now a good time? Would your baby be safe, or would the Empire come sniffing if they caught wind of a child of an enhanced clone?

“It’s your choice, cyar’ika.” He states, his mouth’s corners turning into a devastatingly handsome smile. “It’s your body.” He adds. You know his stance on having a family, Maker above you play into often when he’s buried deep inside you late at night, but this feels like a pivotal moment in your relationship.

Holding his gaze, you’re not quite sure what you’re searching for – but you can see so much in his eyes. All the trust and love he has for you, all the support. At first, it had been terrifying to have someone believe in you so much, but your self-worth and confidence flourished over the last four years.

He’d be an incredible father. You’d already seen it from his interactions with Omega, how the young girl pulled all those paternal traits out of him. He’d go to the ends of the galaxy to keep you and your baby safe, of that you were sure.

Contentment seeped through your body, a feeling of rightness settling in your gut. You wanted a family too, and you loved each other - had been to hell and back for each other. You shifted your attention to the waiting doctor. “Don’t bother replacing it.” You tell him, hearing Hunter inhale sharply, the armrest of his chair creaking as his grip tightened on it at your words.

The doctor gave you a knowing look as he swabbed a disinfectant pad over your upper arm. “Normally, I encourage my patients to use other contraception, but something tells me that advice would fall on deaf ears.”

You make a slight noise of agreement, glancing over at Hunter as the doctor quickly removes the small implant. Your eyes take in the way he’s watching the little piece of plastic being removed, his fingers flexing against the arms of the chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the implant is pulled free of your body. And then those dark eyes find yours and steal your breath.

It was the right decision.

He’s on you the moment you get home, not even giving you time to properly shut the front door. Rough hands grasp your body, lips finding yours for a passionate kiss – there’s no finesse to it; it’s needy and messy, noses bumping and tongues meeting.

Buttons are undone; his shirt hits the floor, and his shoes and pants follow. Strong hands cup your ass and lift you, lips still pressed desperately against yours as he carries you a few steps further into the house, laying you on the couch and following you down. Your kiss breaks long enough for him to pry your dress up and off, lips meeting again before the garment even has the chance to hit the floor. He’s back on you, using one hand to prop himself up above you.

“Fuck, cyar’ika.” Hunter’s voice is low and smoky as his mouth moves to your jawline, light kisses peppered across it before he works down your throat, nipping gently at your delicate skin. Your chest heaves with each breath, mind spinning as your hand’s card through his hair, nails dragging across his scalp, eliciting a small hiss of pleasure and pain from him.

A needy whine breaks free, your hips lifting as you desperately seek some friction. Hunter matches your actions, grinding his hard-on against your thigh as he reaches the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet. He bites down a little harder this time, your moan filling the air, pulling a growl from him as his tongue laves over the mark. The light sweetness to your scent is still there, but he knows it’ll only get stronger as the artificial hormones make their way out of your system. He can’t wait to bask in it.

Your bra is slung over the edge of the couch, hands cupping your breasts as Hunter’s mouth continues downwards, leaving a trail of kisses. Shivers skitter down your spine as he licks across the soft mounds, dragging the flat of his tongue across your rapidly hardening nipples. Drawing one into his mouth, he sucks, scraping his teeth gently across it. The pleasure makes you gasp, back arching as you chase the warmth of his mouth.

Forefinger and thumb tweak your other nipple, the double onslaught making you whimper. Hunter smiles against your breast, enjoying how easy it is to pull such delicious sounds from you. Downwards, he continues, scooting back a little on the couch to press more kisses across the softness of your stomach, yet he pauses for a second just below your belly button.

The actual reality of it slams into him. That damn implant is no longer in your arm, and while it might take a few cycles for your hormone levels to settle back into their natural state, his child could soon be growing here, nurtured by your beautiful body. He moans at the thought, hands moving to kneed gently at your belly.

Gazing down your body, you watch as the man you love laves attention to your stomach. You might’ve pulled away, self-consciousness flaring a little in the past, but you know why he’s doing it. You know the thoughts that are swirling through his mind. You reach down with one hand, fingers tangling in his hair, pushing his bandana off. You snag it with your free hand, sliding it down your wrist, knowing how much he loves seeing you wearing it.

It has the desired effect. Hunter catches the motion, groaning as the band of red fabric rests around your wrist, possessiveness flaring low in his gut and his hips flex, hard cock grinding against your leg again. Deft fingers pry your panties down, and he buries his face between your thighs moments later, turning his head to scatter kisses on your inner thighs. His stubble’s roughness contrasts with his tongue’s softness, and your hips buck in anticipation, desire building further inside you.

He presses forward, burying his face against your pussy as he inhales deeply, growling as your scent floods his nostrils. Tongue dragging through your soaked folds, his nose presses against your clit, and you grind against it, knowing how much he loves you riding his face. Fingers fan over your thighs to keep your legs open as he devours you, his tongue circling your entrance a few times before plunging in, pulling back a moment later to flick it over your clit, making you shudder. He repeats the action several times, driving you crazy with need.

Mouth finally staying on your clit, he presses two fingers into you, crooking them, rubbing your g-spot. The angle is perfect, and between his talented hands and hungry mouth, you’re done for. “Hunter!” You cry out his name, your release slamming into you. Your hips and thighs shake, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pleasure sweeps you up, searing through your veins.

Smug satisfaction paints Hunter’s handsome face as he slows, lapping up your release before he takes his mouth off you, though he continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling the way you spasm around them as you come down from the high. “You have no idea how fucking badly I want to cum inside you.” He rasps, the smokiness of his voice amplified.  

Catching your breath, you’re mesmerised by the intensity of his gaze. Biting down on your lower lip, a thrill runs through you. “I think you should show me.” You challenge.

His growl is feral, your pussy clenching at the sound. Fingers slide out of you as he reaches for your wrists, grasping them as he hauls your arms up, pinning them against the couch above your head. Quickly, he ties his bandana around them, a smirk tilting his lips.

Softness creeps across his features momentarily as he looks down at you beneath him, and you know what he’s asking. “Havoc.” You re-confirm your safe word. You were entirely comfortable with this and had been the hundreds of times you’d done it before, but he always double-checked.

Shifting back to sit on his knees between your thighs, Hunter’s hands smooth across your body. You hadn’t been made for war or the frontlines, even though you’d insisted all those years ago on being out there with him and his brothers. You were softer, unable to take as many hits, making him want to protect you all the more.

You relax against the couch, content to let him lead, trusting him implicitly. He catches you off guard as he dips his head down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around the pebbled bud. Back arching, you huff a breath, squirming as his hands grasp your hips. His lips trail upwards, across your neck, leaving a mark on the other side to the one he’d made earlier. The sweet moan you let out is music to his sensitive ears.

“The way you sound pinned under me…fuck. Your moans are so pretty, cyar’ika. Can hear your heart racing too.” Hunter’s eyes close momentarily, losing one sense, further heightening the rest of them. He breathes in your scent once more, using one hand to pry your thighs further apart, dragging the velvety head of his cock through your slick folds. “So needy for me. This what you want?” He can’t help but tease, enjoying your whimpers and eager nod.

He makes you wait for a second, that mischievous glint in his eyes part of why you fell in love with him in the first place, and then you feel him press against your entrance, inch by glorious inch pushing into you. Your moan catches in your throat, pussy stretching to accommodate him until his hips are flush against you, heavy balls resting against your ass.

Hunter grunts as he bottoms out, eyes fluttering shut once again. “Such a good girl.” He murmurs, giving you a second to adjust before he pulls back and slams back in, making you both cry out. His eyes snap open, locked on your beautiful face as he sets a punishing pace. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your arms trapped above your head, completely at his mercy.

Fingers grasp your thighs, keeping you in place as he pounds into you. The couch creaks beneath you, but you pay it no mind, too focused on the pleasure building inside of you once again.

“Gonna fuck you every damn day until it sticks. Gonna make you a mommy.” Hunter snarls, watching your lips part, your head tipping backwards as you moan unabashedly. You clench around him, and he knows his words excite you.

He won’t last much longer, having been worked up since you’d told the doctor to remove the implant. He’d never been more grateful for loose-fitting pants in his life – walking out of the clinic with a boner was not something he wanted the island residents gossiping about.

Pulling out of you, he chuckles as you whine. “Patience, mesh’la.” He chides gently, strong hands grasping your hips as he flips you onto your front. He unties the bandana, letting it fall to the floor, and you grab at the arm of the couch as he hauls your ass up, fingernails clawing uselessly at the fabric.

On his knees behind you, Hunter pushes back in, setting a quick pace again. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, making your back arch, ass pressing against him. “Feel you so deep.” You gasp, hearing a deep rumble of pleasure from behind you moments before a hand grasps your hair, tugging your head backwards.

A sharp sound leaves you, eyes screwed shut at the combination of pleasure and pain that erupts in your body. The warmth in your body builds, the edge drawing oh so deliciously closer. Hunter keeps a hold of you as his thrusts pick up, eyes glancing down to watch his cock slide in and out of you a few times before his free hand snakes around you to rub your clit. “I can feel you squeezing me tight. You gonna cum on my cock, baby?” His pace is relentless, hand letting go of your hair a moment later as he eases you down, your cheek pressed against the couch, back arching beautifully. The change in angle is pure perfection.

“Hunter!” You cry out his name for the second time this afternoon as the pleasure crescendos, your body clenching around him, muscles spasming as you climax.  

With your body clamped around his cock, Hunter gives two final thrusts before he stills and presses himself against you, shoving in as deep as he can with a grunt as he cums. His thighs shake as the pleasure washes over him, cock twitching as he fills you.

The sound of both of your ragged breaths fills the room, and the pair of you spend a moment catching your breath. Gentle hands smooth across your back after a moment. “Keep that ass up, cyar’ika. Don’t waste any, even though there’s plenty more where that came from.” Hunter murmurs, folding himself over you as he drags his lips across your shoulder blade, tongue laving at your skin and the thin sheen of sweat on your body.

You let out a little noise of agreement, tilting your hips a fraction to ensure none of his release can escape. It draws a deep chuckle from him, and you bask in the sound.

“I love you.” He whispers, warm breath brushing against your ear as you feel him ease out of you, his softening cock resting against your ass.

“I love you too.” You reply quietly, head tilting to capture his lips in a sweet kiss as his hands slide around your body, resting against your stomach. 

As the kiss breaks, he presses his forehead to your back, warm hands rubbing gentle circles against your belly. “Stay like this a little longer, baby.” He insists, the quiet sounds of your synced-up breathing the only noise in the room.

You know it won’t take, but you stay still anyway, soaking in the moment and the feel of his body pressed against you, safe and happy in your little slice of paradise.

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter the bad batch #hunter x you #hunter bad batch #star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars the bad batch #breeding k1nk #smut #fools want to start a family

[russellsppttemplates]

I don't think you'll ever have to find out (Carlos Sainz)

The lack of contract for next season has been pushing Carlos to extremes and friends and family have noticed it

Note: english is not my first language. First Carlos big piece 🫶 I hope you enjoy reading it 😊

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions some anxiety and burnout symptoms

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Hmmmm", you hummed as you felt the mattress move a little before the warm sheets approached your body instead of the warm body that laid under them before.

"Shh, it's just me, cariño", Carlos lulled you, "go back to sleep, it's still early", he kissed your forehead softly as the tucked you in properly.

"Where are you going since it's still early then?", you wondered groggily, "I'm going for a run, I'll be back to have breakfast with you, okay? I love you", he kissed your forehead again before he grabbed his workout clothes and stepped into the ensuite.

When you woke up a few hours later, you could hear water running from the shower, assuming Carlos had got back from his run.

Opening the windows and pulling the sheets to the end of the bed so the whole room could air out, you put on your slippers and one of your boyfriend's hoodies, heading downstairs to start on breakfast. After a quick look at the meal plan left by his trainer, you retrieved the ingredients from the pantry and fridge, toasting, whisking and flipping what you needed to when you heard footsteps joining you on the kitchen.

"Good morning, beautiful", Carlos said as he hugged you from your back, his lips kissing under your ear softly before he looked at what you were making, "smells nice", he murmured before you turned your head slightly so you could kiss his cheek.

"Here you go", you smiled as you handed Carlos the plates to carry to the table while you carried your drinks.

"Gracias, my love", he smiled back as he sat down, taking a sip from his mug and starting light conversation between you two.

"I need to go to the school to get some forms from the secretariat service and some of the kids' tests I forgot to bring home", you began telling him your plans for the day, "I'll mark them when I get home, but we might have some time to spend together in the afternoon".

"I have a meeting with my engineers to analyse data and then I have a sponsor event as well, I have to go there, give an interview and hang around for a bit - I think I'm going to be home for dinner though", he explained his schedule, "but you can use the office, don't worry", he smiled, kissing the top of your head once he finished eating, taking both plates with him back to the kitchen.

"I love you, handsome, have a good day!", you said, kissing his lips once you left the house, knowing he wasn't going to be there when you arrived back from school.

The secretariat services were quicker than usual in getting you the paperwork you needed so you were able to go to your classroom next. As you were making sure everything was in place and none of the kids had left anything out during the holidays, you looked for the tests.

"Hi, Y/N! What are you doing here?", your colleague from the classroom next to yours wondered after she announced her presence with a light knock on your door.

"Hello! I could ask you the same thing, hm?", you chuckled, "I left the tests here and they're not going to mark themselves", you waved the folder in your hand.

"Carlos isn't racing this week?", she asked. You had been classroom buddies for over five years so you had gotten to know eachother pretty well and felt comfortable enough around eachother to ask such questions.

"No, he's racing next weekend though, I'm flying out to see him and then flying back in a hurry so I can teach without taking many days off", you offered.

"Sounds good then! Good luck with all of those, my little ones had some trouble with these last tests, I must say", she added.

"I haven't even looked at them properly to be honest, but I'm sure they did their best", you recalled, waving at her as she said goodbye before putting everything you needed in your bag and leaving as well.

When you arrived back home, you walked straight to the office, arranging your desk in a way that your organisation system worked: to be marked, marked, and the double checked tests, along with space for you laptop so you could insert the data straight on the platform.

The pause you had for lunch was spent on the balcony, soaking up the sun rays while you ate and allowed your mind to escape the math problems and the water cycle drawings your little ones made.

It started when you were a teenager and wanted to earn a little extra money, wanting to buy things yourself and the small independence that came with it, so you started offering help to your neighbours' kids with their homework in exchange of a small amount of money. Over the years, it got a little more serious and grew outside of your neighbourhood because you enjoyed it so much and the kids and their parents loved the work you did, and when it to came to choosing a career you'd see yourself working in happily, teaching little ones sounded perfect. Years later, it still brought a smile to your face every single day.

You were measuring the rice quantity for you and Carlos when he arrived, "cariño, are you in the kitchen?", you heard him ask once he shut the door.

"Yes, my love, just getting dinner ready", you called back, washing your hands once you were done while he stepped closer to you. Drying your hands on a kitchen towell, you left it on the counter once your boyfriend joined you in the room, "did you have a good day?", you mumbled against his lips before stealing a big kiss from him.

"It was good, did what needed to be done, and you? Are your little geniuses getting good grades this term?", he smiled, lacing his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"They did so well! I'm so proud of them, they barely had any spelling mistakes and they drew these pretty drawings on the side - I have to show you, come look!", you pulled his hand to follow you to the office, feeling his tiredness in his movements and stalling, "I can show you later - how about a cuddle in the sofa while dinner cooks?", you suggested as you noticed him nod, "sounds nice", he kissed your hand as you pulled him to the living room, letting you rest your body against his for a little bit as he told you a little more about his day.

"Sounds tiring", you mumbled, tracing random shapes on his clothed chest, "it's fine, part of the job", he shrugged as he looked at his watch, "dinner should be ready soon, no? I'll help you with the table", he kissed your forehead before you got up and sorted the meal for the two of you.

By the time you were done, cleaning up was easy and quick. Carlos suggested you retired to the bedroom early, doing your night-time routines before cuddling on the bed.

"How about a movie?", you suggested, flickering the streaming platforms to find something to watch.

"I might fall asleep in the middle of it, you won't get too mad if I do?", he smiled, kissing your cheek multiple times.

"Of course I won't be mad, love! I'd never be mad for that", you cooed, looking up at his eyes as he tried his hardest to blink the sleep away, "I'll keep the volume down and the brightness low, you sleep all you want, okay?", you checked with him, sealing your request with a kiss on his lips, "sleep well, my love".

Carlos pulled you closer to him, your scent and steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep quickly, leaving you to smile at his peaceful features when you glanced away from the screen every now and again.

.

"You look so gorgeous! My teacher was never this stylish!", Blanca said as she greeted you once you stepped inside her car, setting your bag on the seat next to yours and squeezing her shoulder as well as her mother's, "hello hello! Thank you for inviting me, I've been needing a wardrobe change now that the temperatures are warmer", you smiled as they squeezed your hand back before you put your seatbelt on.

"It's been a while since I've seen you, dear, how have you been?", Reyes asked you while her daughter drove off to the spot where they wanted to spend the afternoon shopping.

"The little ones have been keeping me busy, now that they're on school break, it's a little bit calmer", you replied.

"That's nice, you shouldn't run yourself to the point of exhaustion - no matter how much you love it, you should also take care of yourself! You and Carlos are very much alike on that - your work ethic is excellence", she winked through the rear view mirror.

You agreed with your boyfriend's mother. Both you and Carlos worked extremely hard to get to the point you were in now and sometimes you needed someone - often eachother - to pull you out of a overworking spiral.

When Blanca was trying on a dress, you and Reyes sat on the small sofa while you waited for her and conversation flowed easily like usual, "how has Carlos been? It's been a while since I've seen him too", she wondered.

"He's been working a lot - being without a contact prospect for next year has obviously had a big impact on him", you began, "to be completely honest, I worry he is overdoing it. It's meeting after meeting, then all the workouts he goes on - I'm happy he's healthy for it, but too much of something is never good, right?", you shared.

"I've noticed it, too - I wasn't just asking", she smirked softly, "but I wanted to confirm it with you, a mother's instinct is always worried for her children and maybe part of me was hoping I was just exaggerating".

"I've tried to make sure he feels all the support he has and just be there for him, but I think it's all him, pushing to be better and better", you expressed your worries.

"What do you think about us having dinner at your place? Not to invite myself - even though that's what it is-, but maybe he would feel better and more inclined for a yes? Last times I invited you two for dinner with us he said he had things planned and the plans fell through", she said.

"Sounds nice, don't worry about inviting yourselves in", you chuckled as she gently squeezed your shoulder, "I'm going to suggest it to him, thank you", you squeezed her hand.

"We should be the ones thanking you", Blanca said as she stepped out, leaving you to assume she heard some of the conversation, "you've been his safe place for so long and continue to do so no matter the conditions", she smiled, "you're making sure my very hard headed brother is looking after himself and being looked after - the love you have for eachother is all we could've wanted for Carlitos", she hugged you, "now do we think this looks nice as it is or is it borderline making me look like a cloud?", she looked at the piece of clothing on her body.

You were pulled out of sleep when you heard Carlos mumbled something incoherent, and turning to face him, the sweat on his forehead evidencing that he was probably having a nightmare.

"Amor, hey - wake up, amor, wake up", you shook him awake, "it's just a nightmare, you're okay, you're okay", you coaxed him as he opened his eyes, turning on his bedside lamp while you held onto his hand.

"I woke you up? I'm sorry", he apoligised, voice groggy as he tried to catch his breath and bring his heart rate back to normal.

"It's okay, amor", you smiled, kissing his cheek and brushing the hairs away that were stuck to his forehead, "do you want to talk about it?".

Did he want to talk about it? The nightmares that kept occurring and keeping him up, only until now they had only woken him up? They had been happening for about a month now. He would wake up all sweaty and his breathing erratic, and more often than not, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so he stayed awake thinking about all the possibilities of how his employment situation would be for next year and all of the ways he could improve his performance.

"It's fine", he gulped, "let's go back to sleep, okay?", he encouraged.

You knew better than to push him at that moment, so you cuddled up to him, holding him too as you kissed his chest, "I'm right here, nothing bad is going to happen to you, I'll make sure of it", you whispered before he turned the light off, wanting to believe you so badly and to sleep without his mind running a million miles an hour.

.

It really was taking up a lot of his mind - as well as your and his family's worries - and how it was soon going to be too much if he didn't manage everything well, and after his mother's conversation with you, you knew you needed to do something.

"My love, can I talk to you for a second?", you asked as you walked inside the office, seeing his sat in the long sofa instead of at the desk, "sure, come here, cariño", he urged, tidying some of the papers and notebooks so you could sit.

"I'm not going to bat around the bush, this is going to be straight off the bat - me and your family are concerned you're running yourself harder than you should, and if you keep going at this rate, you're going to burnout soon", you tried, rubbing his thigh softly and encouraging him to really think about it.

He pondered his words for a bit, "I have to do all I'm doing, Y/N, if I stop, I'll fall behind - it's bad enough as it is", he argued.

"But it's not doing you any good, handsome, you're more tired, you barely spend time with your family, with me even", you argued back. You didn't want to play that card or make him feel like he was failing you, that wasn't the point, "you're not doing the things that bring you joy outside of your work, and it shows", you attempted again.

"I have to keep working, I can try and make more time for them, but I can't miss my workouts and these data analysis sessions", he reasoned, "there's so much at stake here and I can't miss any of it because I'm unprepared or unfit".

"Handsome, I never wanted you to stop all of a sudden - and I knew you wouldn't anyway, I know who I'm dating, believe it or not", you smiled, "all I'm saying is you need to protect yourself too, have a place to just be yourself and let loose for a bit", you grabbed his hand and brought it to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

"I will try my best", Carlos stated, "I'm sorry if I've been neglecting you", he said and you shook your head.

"No worries, now come and help me because your parents are coming over for dinner!", you have him a cheeky smile, pulling him to the kitchen and away from work for the rest of the day.

"This had my mother's hand on it, didn't it?", he wondered.

"She told me she was worried, and I agreed - so I took matters into my own hands because we knew you wouldn't let your mother tell you half of what I told you", you pulled him to you, hugging him tight, "we love you so much, I love you so much - and things are going to work out for you, I know they will", you kissed his clothed chest before looking up at him, "we all want you to be happy at what you do and you're doing the best you can - the universe will do the rest, amor".

"What would I do without you?", Carlos asked, kissing your lips passionately.

"Lucky for you, I don't think you'll ever have to find out", you smiled.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: ghost!gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

about: the bump you’ve been hearing in the night isn’t just your imagination, it’s a friendly ghost. a handsome ghost. a ghost who you've befriended that isn't so sure he wants to share you.

contents: nsfw - mdni. you are enjoying oral sex (f!receiving) from a ghost, voyeurism (he's a creep but reader is into it ♡), vaginal fingering, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness leaning on yandere behavior, reader is referred to with feminine terms (pretty girl) and is stated to be wearing a dress.

notes: welcome to thot-o-ween 2023! we are kicking things off with my ghostly boyfriend and im gonna be honest with u guys here, i didn't do extensive research about the ins and outs of ghost sex but he can materialize and harden the parts of him he wants to and let's leave it at that, okay? thank you to @rossithepixie for beta reading this bad boy and i hope you enjoy! happy halloween!

Another unlucky night, you lament upon arriving back to your apartment. Your keys jingle in the door as you turn the lock with your uncomfortable heels dangling from your hand, pushing the door inward and slumping with each step forward. 

Third dates usually end better than this but it seems your last several third dates have ended with nothing satisfying, polite kisses and wishes for a good evening. It’s hard not to internalize the rejection given this is the fourth person it has happened with and you drop your heels with a thud on the hardwood below, padding across the floor and working off your jewelry, contorting your wrist to unclasp your bracelet.

“Back already?”

A sigh and a shake of your head mark that you already know who the voice belongs to despite being unable to witness its owner. Tossing your bracelet down on the coffee table, you slump against the couch with an unimpressed grunt and jump slightly when you look up to see a pair of blue eyes with white hair falling in them staring back at you.

You don’t know why you expected anything less than Satoru being ready to gloat that you’ve returned home empty handed but you hoped for at least a little bit of time to lick your wounds.

“Well hello to you, too,” you snip and he chuckles. The dim overhead light shines through him reminding you that he isn’t quite human, something it’s all too easy to forget given his charming grin and affable nature, and he hops over the top of the couch in a flash and plops down next to you. 

You still aren’t sure how you ended up with a ghost as a freeloading roommate nor how you’re able to not only see but feel and communicate with him but at least he makes good company after your failed attempts at finding love. He’s always there with a silly joke or a goofy smile to make things hurt a little less.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it has been to find comfort in this specter, a figment of a man left on Earth for reasons you’ll never know, but hey - a friend’s a friend when you’re lonely.

“Not sure what happened this time,” you explain while standing up. He watches your every move, eyes dancing across your chest and trailing down your waist and hips as your dress settles back across them. Taking one look at you, hunger rises within him but he swallows it as you walk to the kitchen and he hears the telltale noise of a corkscrew at work.

He can be as patient as he needs for as long as he needs given his games have worked up until this point. You pour a glass of wine, another sitting next to your full glass, and you furrow your brow.

“Satoru?”

He looks over the couch, eyes narrowing as he sees your relaxed posture and the way you lean against the counter next to you. It has to be the dress, he thinks, that hugs every delicious curve and has made the already thin tether he keeps on his self control further loosen.

“Yeah?”

You smile when he responds, pulling your glass away from your lips. His eyes fall on the lipstick stain left behind and he has to curl his fist in his lap and keep his face neutral to keep his frustration from showing.

“Ghosts don’t eat or drink, right?”

He shrugs, arm dangling over the side of the couch as he watches you slip the glass back into the cupboard above your head. You’re assuming that he isn’t interested in the wine despite how his eyes follow your every move. It isn’t unusual that you feel him watching you, having to draw boundaries on where he is and is not allowed to be several times given how you’ve seen his face after wiping the mirror off post shower, but this feels different. Weighted. Maybe he’s worried about your ego after your failed conquests.

“Not usually, no, but we can make exceptions.”

Raising your eyebrows, you hum at the way he accentuates the last word. Another sip and warmth fills you, wine relaxing your frazzled nerves. You approach the couch again and slip next to him, pulling your knees to your chest with an amused smile.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, looking up at you through his lashes. Sliding your wine onto the table beside you, you consider for a moment what to say next not knowing where your words could possibly lead. He’s harmless, friendly, and a friend.

A little flirtation just to make sure you’re still capable of it couldn’t possibly hurt anything, could it?

“What kind of exceptions do you make when it comes to eating, Satoru?”

You wonder what he was like when he was alive - was he just like this? All jokes and fun and bluster or was he serious, tied down by responsibilities and pain? Was he this handsome even when the light didn’t shine through him, illuminating him in a way that makes you wonder if he isn’t an angel rather than a thing that goes bump in the night?

“Hmm…well. Children, small animals…” he pretends to be thinking, fingers stroking his chin and you laugh raucously at his display. He shakes his head and puts his other hand on your calf, cold fingers sending shivers crawling through the limb. You make a show of shivering but don’t shove him off, instead moving closer.

“Anything else?”

He hums at your question, hand sliding from your calf to your exposed knee. Your dress rides further and further up your thighs and he can almost see the lacy little panties he watched you slip over your legs before leaving. He spent all evening thinking of the way the trimmed hair covering your mound poked through the holes in the lace, pacing the apartment hoping, hoping, hoping that this time would be the time where you took the rejection personally enough to seek him out for comfort.

It seems his plan is working flawlessly and he’s smug, raising his chin and looking down his nose at you just enough that it makes you shutter. You aren’t sure if it’s the wine or maybe that you’re reading too much into the situation, but you watch raptly as his mouth moves.

“Sometimes I eat really pretty girls if the appetite strikes.”

Raising your brows, you lean forward and look up at him. He knows all too well what that look means, unfortunately having to witness you flash it at the few people you’ve managed to bring home over the last ten months of living here, but he can forget about them now that it is pointed at him.

“Oh is that so?”

He nods, hand crawling further up your leg. You wish you could describe the sensation, a cold static, the trace of his touch across your skin, but words fail you as his eyes blaze. The tension is thick and it’s almost puzzling how you ended up here, scooting closer and closer with each second that passes. His hand dances at the hem of your dress, fingers slipping beneath and grazing the soft skin beneath it and he moans.

“How long have you wanted to do that for, I wonder?”

You giggle, ass scooting across the couch to drape your legs over his thighs and hips. The two of you sit across from one another, legs barely spread, and you take a step to spread yours further.

“I think the better question is how long have you wanted me to do it for?”

Raising your brows as his touch creeps further upward, you wonder if you haven’t met your match in the form of the eerily tall specter that lingers over the back of your couch. He makes himself scarce unless he wants to be seen, pounding footsteps and shifting on the shelves hanging on your wall the only trace of him when others are around. 

You stop yourself on that thought and he sees awareness dance across your face, recalling the moments where your last several dates were in the apartment and you had to insist the rustling was the pet cat you do not have fiddling with things in your room or down the hallway.

“Have you been…” the accusation slips past your lips and you can’t stop it, head tipping as he reaches out and cups your face with his free hand, one hand still sliding across the bottom of your panties. His cool fingers are a rush across your heated skin, hotter now than it was a few moments prior, and he nods.

“Yeah, I have been.” He expects you to react more strongly than you are but your mouth remains agape and wordless. “You keep bringing these idiots home and it’s my job to make sure they know you already have everything you need right here.”

He shifts position onto his stomach, his long legs dangling over the arm of the couch as his lips, cool and soft, follow the same pattern his fingers were previously taking. He laces your calf with kisses, licking the curve of your knee and nibbling as he reaches the soft of your inner thigh and you feel your hips buck instinctively. 

You should kick him off of you, disgusted by his antics, but you feel your slick pussy lips rub against one another as you shift where you sit. Those electric eyes are locked on you and he dips his fingers beneath the lace that spurred his frenzy, groaning as he comes into contact with your searing hot warmth and the wetness seeping from your cunt.

“Seems like you aren’t disappointed to hear that,” he taunts, nibbling your soft skin again while working one long digit across your slit. You gasp when the back of his finger brushes against your swollen clit and he chuckles. “You wanna hear what else I’ve been doing since we’re bein’ honest?”

Satoru’s finger traces the same pattern through your slit, finger gliding easily along the sensitive skin and you nod, lip between your teeth. You want to witness exactly what he’s doing to you because the feeling is indescribable - more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

“I’ve been watching you,” he withdraws his finger from your panties and you whimper, brow furrowing. Eyes fixed on him, you watch as he pulls the finger into his mouth and hums at the taste. The wet digit is removed from his mouth with a pop and he slides it back into your panties, dipping into your cunt only to make your back arch. 

“Watching you do that,” he nods at your last movement. “With that noisy vibrator. With the showerhead.” He continues, mouth moving closer to your panty covered pussy with each word. “With people who don’t deserve it.”

Another chill runs through you at the insinuation that he has been watching you…everywhere. In the shower, in your bedroom, in the living room with a blanket pulled over your lap for some sense of decorum. Your walls clench around his finger and he finally lowers his face to your pussy, licking a broad stripe over the front of your underwear. 

Tipping your head back, you moan his name and it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard in life or after it. He licks another strip, tip of his tongue tracing your slit through the lace, and you reach behind you to grasp onto a throw pillow.

“I’ve been waiting for when you’d pick up on it but it seems my pretty girl wanted to believe I’m nothing but a friendly houseguest,” he taunts from between your legs but you are at his mercy enough that you don’t mind the challenge. 

You like the way his eyes shine as they look down at your core, as if he’s found a prize that he has searched many lifetimes for. He has and he holds himself back from making further moves, taking the time to keep you wound up.

“You’re mine now no matter who you bring in here, you know that right?”

You nod, and he tuts from below. You aren’t getting off that easily.

“Say it,” he prompts. “Say you’re mine.”

Untucking your lip from between your teeth, you reach out and try to grab his face but find it’s futile, phasing through him as it drops back down to the couch below. You try again, raising your hand to be met with the same results, and he waits.

“Say it and I’ll let you touch me too.”

You aren’t certain of how that works but he would know more about the delicate relations between a ghost and a human so you acquiesce, nodding while you look at him.

“I’m yours,” you whisper and he wastes no time going back to work, dipping his head back down to your covered cunt and pulling your panties away. He inhales, eyes fluttering shut at the scent of your arousal, and you reach to touch him to find you can merely graze him, fingers dancing along his sharp jawline. It’s enough for now, distracted by how his tongue now dances between your folds.

“Fuck that’s so good,” you whimper and he wraps his lips around your aching clit, your back arching to put all of you in his face. He loves it, surrounded by your thighs and your scent and your beauty, and he hums his pleasure around the bud.

Releasing your clit, he begins to once again lap at you like a man starved, tongue dragging from your bud to your entrance and down lower, the sensation still one you are struggling to name. You’ve been on the receiving end of good oral sex more than once but this physically feels like something you’ve never experienced, cold and hot and spiritual. It’s difficult to describe so you don’t bother, keeping moans spilling from your mouth instead.

Continuing to lave his tongue across the mess he’s making of your pussy, he swallows thickly and looks up at your pleasured face. The sight makes him smile, more than happy he has finally managed to get his way, and he adds another finger to the one he has kept massaging your insides. His tongue retracts but you don’t mind, long fingers filling you more than you anticipated and drawing gasps from you.

“Just remember,” his blue eyes fall to where his fingers curl against your pelvis, squelching with your wetness and his saliva. “I can follow you wherever you go.”

You gasp when his fingers curl against the spongy spot inside of you that makes your head swim, walls once again gripping him so tightly he can hardly move so he settles in place.

“You’ll never get away from me now.”

Nodding, you smirk and it turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit, hips canting to match the rhythm his fingers were working at before they stopped.

“You assume I want to,” you shoot back breathlessly through swollen lips. You’ve been gnawing that lower lip a little too hard and it’s plump, slick with spit and he admires the shine while you speak. “Maybe you'll never get away from me.”

Raising his brows, Satoru wonders if this wasn’t your endgame all along. Recalling all the times you spread your legs and stroked your pussy on the couch, knowing he could see it; memorizing all of the people who have darkened your doorstep, only to get you all warmed up and then be sent away - you making the choice instead to moan into the cool dark of your room while making yourself cum again and again.

“Looks like we’re on the same page then,” he confirms and you smile. His mouth goes back to work, tongue slurping and drinking every bit of you that he can, and you feel yourself edging closer and closer to cumming for him, for real, this time. 

His fingers work inside of you and he closes his mouth over your sensitive clit, your mouth opening in a wordless shout with your release. You weren’t expecting it to come just yet but you won’t complain, head drooping backwards and eyes shut tightly. The on top of the world feeling is coaxed out of you for as long as it can be, his mouth mercifully releasing you when you start breathing heavily. 

His face rests against your thigh, glistening chin backlit and shining, and you reach out to touch him again and gasp when your touch lands, fingers wrapping around his jaw. Again, you won’t question it knowing that the best orgasm of your life just came at the hands of this man…or spirit…Whatever he is, you aren’t terribly concerned about it.

“I feel like I need to take you out to dinner now,” you tease breathlessly and he laughs, cheek still pressed to your thigh. Placing a kiss, he winks in your direction and you feel that familiar heat rise in you once again.

“We have all the time in the world for that, now don’t we?”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #thot o ween 23 #monster mash 23 #kendall writes