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riding-the-sunset-bird · 5 months

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Another day, another post dissecting Our Life's code! This time we'll be going over how Our Life decides whether your Cove will be Studious, Sporty, or somewhere in the middle!

If you've already seen my post on how the game decides where Cove is on the spectrum between warm and cold, then most of this will feel extremely familiar, but you don't need to check that post to understand this one! I'll be going over everything exactly the same.

According to GB Patch, getting a sporty or studious Cove is primarily based on what you do with him activity-wise.

Part of it is what Cove literally ends up doing in the events. There are multiple times where he can do something more physical or do something more low key. Another part is a somewhat meta “the player is creating their reality” type of deal. For example, if the player makes it clear that their MC is the sporty one around, that would have to mean Cove isn’t the sporty one. So even without interacting with Cove directly you’d rack up a lot studious points for him because your choices are describing a world where Cove isn’t that into sports. That’s not to say it’s impossible for the MC and Cove to both be into sports. Describing your MC specifically as the one into sports is excluding Cove from being super into sports, but he doesn’t have to be excluded. The most straightforward way to get a sporty Cove is to just really focus on it. Whenever there’s something that could possibly make him more interested in bookish things, lean away from that. And whenever there’s a way to encourage him to like or do physical stuff, do it. So, for example, don’t accept just being a silver medalist in Grown-up, don’t say that the MC is a faster runner than Cove when trying to get away from Shiloh, do ask him question that lead to him talking about outdoorsy activities he does, etc.

Calling it "points" is very accurate because it's very much a points system. Whenever you do certain actions with/say certain things to Cove, the game will add a "point" to either Cove being studious or Cove being sporty (in extremely rare cases, it will add two instead of even subtract one).

(also, shockingly, reading the book with Cove in Sleepover actually has zero effect on Cove being Studious/Sporty; I even had to read through the script to confirm and the only reasoning I can imagine is because it's related to getting a CG and the devs wouldn't want players who want the CG to feel forced into making Cove more studious just to get it)

The tutorial of the game also vaguely details the studious to sporty spectrum:

[Cove']s interests fall along a sporty-mixed-studious spectrum. It works similarly to the personality one. When he's young, Cove has a variety of interests. As time goes on that can stay the same, begin to focus on more athletic/outdoorsy activities, or become more interested in academic/indoorsy ways to spend time.

And, if you've ever been in the Cove Creator, you'd know that there are five "states" that Cove can be in when it comes to his interests, with one state being between Studious and Mixed while another is between Mixed and Sporty. However, as far as I can tell, the game will never actually check for these two states, meaning that Cove is either Studious, Mixed, or Sporty, without any sort of Studious-Mixed or Mixed-Sporty at all.

In terms of the first check of the game - after the end of Step 1, of course - the game will examine the points you've gathered and decide where on the spectrum Cove is. If you have more Studious points, then the game will look only at how many points you've gathered there and vice versa with Sporty points. If you have an equal amount of Studious and Sporty points, then there will be a sort of "coin flip" to determine which points the game will check (this actually happened to me once where I had to go back on a save and got a Sporty Cove instead of a Studious one even though I'd done nothing different, simply because I'd accumulated an equal amount of sporty and studious points with Cove).

The remaining points in the other category are thrown away, and if you don't have enough sporty/studious points (depending on what you had more of or what the game chose in the "coin toss"), then you get a Mixed Cove.

Interestingly enough, the game is actually uneven in how it calculates a "fully Studious" or "fully Sporty" Cove. If you have six or more points in Studiousness, then you get a "fully Studious" Cove, but the game only asks for five of more in Sportiness to give you a "fully Sporty" Cove. This means that you could have six points in both Studiousness and Sportiness, which would give you a "fully Sporty" Cove if the coin flip picked Sportiness, but if the coin flip picks Studiousness, you'll only get a "Studious-Mixed" Cove.

As stated above though, the Studious-Mixed and Mixed-Sporty states don't really exist and serve as Studious and Sporty respectively anyway. In the grand scheme of things, it won't matter, but I digress.

Keeping that in mind, the game only cares if you have three or more points in either Studiousness or Sportiness. If you have three or more Studious points, you get a Studious Cove, and if you have three or more Sporty points, you get a Sporty Cove (and a coin toss if you're equal in both to decide whether he's Studious or Sporty). If you do not have enough points in either, you get a Mixed Cove. A Mixed Cove is most likely if you either play through Step 1 without playing any moments or avoid leaning Cove towards anything Studious/Sporty at all.

Cove's personality and appearance are also unrelated to whether he's Studious or Sporty, excluding moments where a multiple choice option might affect multiple values at once (but this is coincidence rather than direct correlation and, yes, I'll mention them when they come). Cove will also still do things like go surfing in Wave even if he's Studious, it's just that he'll be an awkward surfer instead of a graceful one (no comment if he's Mixed).

In terms of things that affect the player directly, the gummy bear toss in the Step 2 DLC moment Birthday is one of the biggest things that come to mind, as you'll lose if Cove isn't sporty and your MC hasn't been given any "sporty points" of their own (since this post isn't about the MC, I'll keep it brief and just say that the game keeps track of your own athletic ability during Step 2, such as if you tell Kyra that you like to swim). If that matters to you, you can opt for a sporty Cove and save yourself the trouble as there's no Studious equivalent of the gummy bear toss.

As for all of the moments in Step 1 where you have a chance to influence Cove's Studiousness/Sportiness, here they are!

Step 1 - Prologue

When Cove and the MC try to flee from Shiloh (if the MC agrees to go along with Cove):

He was fast, but you knew you could outrun him if you had to. [sporty +1]

He was not that fast, you knew you could outrun him if you had to. [studious +1]

He was not that fast, but neither were you. [studious +1]

At that speed, you weren't sure if you could go fast enough to reach him. [sporty +1]

Shopping

When Cove is staring down absentmindedly at the sand:

"Are you looking for snails?" [sporty +1]

"Are you looking for shells?" [studious +1]

"What is it?" [studious +1]

"You didn't feel the need to ask why." [sporty +1]

When Cove goes back to not saying anything on the beach:

You didn't either. [sporty +1]

"What did you want to go to the shops for?" [studious +1]

"What do you usually do on the beach?" [sporty +1]

Grown Up

When Lizzie tells Cove and the MC that they won silver in the pretend Olympics:

"Silver sucks. I don't want silver." [sporty +1]

"I'm okay with that." [studious +1]

"Hey, we can do better than silver!" [sporty +1]

"Silver's not bad. Nice." [studious +1]

You stayed silent. [no change]

Long Day

When Lizzie asks the MC if they're a chicken who doesn't want to ding-dong-ditch the mean grandparents:

"Yeah. Cluck-cluck." [studious +1]

You'd rather just avoid them. [studious +1]

You thought they deserved worse. [no change]

"I'll do it." [no change]

When the MC gets to decide what they see in the clouds:

You saw a dolphin. [studious +1] {note that this will give Cove the dark blue short-sleeved shirt}

You saw a car. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove the red salamander sleeveless shirt}

You saw an alpaca. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove the dark blue short-sleeved shirt}

You saw a smiley face. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove the red salamander sleeveless shirt}

You saw cloud shapes. [studious +1]

Sandcastle

[NONE]

Fireflies

When the MC notices Cove lagging behind the group while en route to poppy hill:

"Are you not gonna come?" [no change] {but will give Cove cold +1}

You tugged him along. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove cold +1 on Indifferent and warm +1 on Fond/Crush}

You walked with him. [no change] {but will give Cove cold +1}

You waved at him to hurry. [no change] {but will give Cove warm +1}

You ran off. [no change]

When Cove fails to catch a firefly after the MC catches one:

You encouraged him to try again. [sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove warm +1}

You told him about the firefly you had. [studious +1] {note that this will give Cove cold +1}

You made a joke about what happened. [studious +1]

You did your own things. [sporty +1]

Library

When the MC chooses to go with Cove rather than participate in the quiz:

[sporty +1] {note that this will give Cove cold +1}

When the MC and Cove are about to be interrupted in their game of hide-and-seek (dependent on how good the MC has been at the game; answers marked with a * are the correct ones):

1st round of hide-and-seek

Next to a Peter Pan poster.

*Beside the fairy tale display.

*Behind the solar system model.

2nd round of hide-and-seek

By the fire awareness station.

Near the stuffed animals.

*Under the giant piece of fruit.

By the outlaw poster.

*In the fantasy section.

Near the toddler books.

3rd round of hide-and-seek

*In all the old Christmas stuff.

Next to the kid detective poster.

*Behind the Willy Wonka statues.

Final Tally

the MC won zero rounds (Cove will say "I'm doing good.") [sporty +1]

the MC won one round (Cove will say "I'm doing good.") [studious +1] [sporty +1]

the MC won two rounds (Cove will say "I can still win.") [studious +1]

the MC won all three rounds (Cove will say "I need to do good in at least one round.") [studious +1]

If the MC chose to go do the quiz instead:

[studious +1] {note that this will give Cove warm +1}

Ghost

[NONE]

Barbecue

When the MC is racing the other kids to catch the girl with the squirt gun (if the MC chose to go play with the kids in the first place):

You outran them easily. [studious +1]

You outran them with effort. [sporty +1]

You weren't as fast as them because they were speedy. [sporty +1]

You weren't as fast as them because you just weren't fast. [studious +1]

You moved to the side to let them pass; you didn't wanna win this race. [no change]

When Mr. Holden comments on his interests:

"Those are things Cove likes." [sporty +1]

"Wow. It's a good thing you live by the beach." [studious +1]

You stayed quiet. [no change]

Runaway

[NONE]

Sleepover

[NONE]

Step 1 - Ending

When Cove tries to skip a rock across the water (if the MC chose to stay with him):

You were impressed over how far he got it to go. It sailed way out into the sea. [sporty +2] [studious -1]

It was a good toss. That was pretty neat. [sporty +1]

It wasn't a long throw. But he didn't care to try for that. [studious +1]

The rock sunk kind of... like a rock and fell back down almost right after he tossed it. [studious +2] [sporty -1]

And that's all of them! A few surprises are in there, but it's mostly straightforward in either prompting Cove to talk about outdoor/active things he does or choosing options that imply he's particularly good/fast (whether compared to the MC or in general). Particularly tricky are the ones that might change Cove's appearance/personality when you didn't intend for that to happen and are trying not to use the Cove Creator to get the Cove you want.

Still, it's definitely easier to gauge than Cove's appearance or personality, so whether you wanted this for a guide or just for the data, I hope you enjoyed! :D

#our life #our life: beginnings & always #olba #cove holden #type: cracking the cove

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joshfutturman · 3 months

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"you have me, you always have"

oneshot (request) - you and clapton have been in a 'will they won't they' type relationship for years, you're best friends - but is that all you want? (2.3k words) pairing - clapton davis (detention) + reader (gender neutral) tags: making out / kissing, moans (oops :3), feelings realisation, will they won't they, suggestive scenes, no use of y/n, vague alcohol mention, cursing

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

clapton. davis. what could you say about clapton davis? you had been best friends for as long as you could remember. it was always just easy with him. you never had to try too hard or try to be funny - he just got you, and you got him.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

notes: this was SO much fun!!! thank you so so much for the request @rhilove1234 ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵◌₎♡ - you're officially the first request of this account! i hope this was alright for you ٩( ´◡` )

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

it was actually kind of poetically perfect that you two had applied to the same college together and had been accepted, a miracle too. clapton had the lowest gpa you'd ever heard of, but with his interest in music and the passion he clearly had for the history behind it - the college took kindly to that. you wondered if he offered to create a mix-tape for the assessors. there must have been some sort of bribe involved.

there was a time when he'd told you of his fear of the future, how he'd rather stay in the present. you remember this moment vividly, the two of you sat on your front lawn, stars sprawling above you as the world grew quiet. clapton nervously fidgeted with a blade of grass and you watched on. "the present is good, what's so wrong with wanting to stay here?" he spoke quietly, as though he knew that he didn't really believe what he was saying.

"well, yeah, the present is pretty cool," you smiled, nudging his shoulder with yours - this earned a smile from him, "but. . . don't you wanna see what's out there? who's out there?"

his eyes perked up from the blade of grass and settled on you for a few moments before darting across the street. his smile turned softer, shyer. clapton had all he wanted, right here.

the journey towards the college would take a couple of hours and clapton offered to give you a ride. your hands shook as you packed your belongings into his trunk. he watched from the side, eyebrows furrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek. once you were both settled into the small red car, clapton set off. but not before he reached his hand over, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

he didn't let go for the entire journey.

the dorm room was pretty much what you were expecting, cramped, but decent. your roommate, damon, offered a smile to both of you as clapton helped you inside with your luggage. with a warm, tight hug and a small cheeky kiss on the cheek that you laughed off and so did he, clapton left. not before he sheepishly eyed your roommate, though. they exchanged a look, and it made your eyebrow raise as you gingerly rubbed the skin where his lips had been.

as soon as that door closed, damon piped up. "your boyfriend?"

a laugh erupted from you. clapton? your boyfriend? you hadn't even kissed, how could you possibly be dating? was it the kiss on the cheek? that doesn't count. you were best friends. there were no feelings there. clapton davis? dating? never. that damn skateboard had his heart. yeah. it wasn't like you had feelings for him that were bubbling below the surface, threatening to escape after every interaction. it's not like you wanted to ask him if this was something more. and it definitely wasn't like you had thought about pushing him against the lockers every day and kissing him like time was running out, or that you imagined him taking his hand in yours, for real - nah.

best friends. that's all it was.

but that comment remained firmly in your mind. it had been a few weeks and you couldn't shake it. was this really something more? could it be, even?

clapton was the kind of guy who could win anyone around, practically everyone he had ever met had fallen in love with him in some capacity. sure, he could be an ass when it came to his music opinions and that adorable sting fixation could be grating - but not to you. it was exactly that, adorable. he was like this with everyone, right?

even in class, you found it hard to focus. he'd insist on sitting behind you or beside you so he could pester you. in this particular lecture, he was behind. clapton leans back, swinging in his chair as he eyes the back of your head, caught in a daydream.

he sighs, deeply. clapton often looked at you like this when you weren't looking. he would desperately try to think of something to say to make you laugh, to catch your attention, to have your eyes fall on him even just for a little while. he flips open his little black notebook and peers at the bullet-pointed contents. 'say something funny, say something witty, wear their favourite colour, tell them you like them.' he hastily shut the book.

leaning over, his fingers brush your hair behind your ear. you immediately felt goosebumps spread across your neck and a tingle ran down your spine like lightning. a blush burned deep in your cheeks. "do. . . you got a pen i could borrow?" clapton whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

with a hard swallow, you passed a pen backwards and offered him a quick smile before looking straight ahead again, gritting your teeth to firmly push those thoughts from your head.

best. friends. that's all it was.

these thoughts led to you avoiding him, avoiding one on one time. it was better to stay in a group when you were with him, or was it? damon wasn't the last person to ask if you guys were dating. and you saw clapton's face when he was asked, the laugh he gave people - clearly he thought it was a joke too.

it was fine, it was going to be fine. one of your classmates had invited you to a house party that night, this would surely take your mind off things. you'd get some space, more space from clapton and maybe you'd find someone new. maybe he'd find someone new.

your stomach churned at the thought.

walking inside, you relished the sound of conversation from all sides. there wasn't any space to listen to your thoughts in here and that's exactly the kind of escape you wanted. shoulders rising and falling with a sigh of relief, you find the kitchen. a drink in hand and you definitely feel more relaxed. yeah, things were going to work out. things were-

clapton.

your eyes fixate on him from across the room. he's on the sofa, surrounded by people. they're chatting to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. you notice when he laughs, they do too. they're hanging on his every word and they love it. they're too far away for you to make out their conversation, but you can tell that clapton is enjoying telling the story. he always did like attention - and not in a conceited way, he just naturally attracted people.

and then, his eyes met yours.

eyes widening, you look away and down the rest of your drink. a few seconds later, you started to leave the kitchen area to retreat towards the cramped hallway. clapton called out to you, telling you to wait, to 'come join him'. you didn't listen, but if you'd stayed a few seconds longer, you might have heard that the story he had enjoyed telling so much was about you and him.

in the hallway, you gathered yourself and ran your fingers through your hair. it wasn't long before you heard clapton approaching too, though, and you let out a soft grunt of frustration. "trouble in paradise?" someone muttered and you shot them an icy glare. the door to the backyard ahead, you left and slammed it behind you.

the cold atmosphere hit you and your cheeks were hotter than you realised. it felt as though you could actually breathe in the night air. but when you heard the door handle turn and clapton exit, you felt just as tense again.

"what the hell is going on with you?" he speaks in a firm but confused tone, there was a hint of hurt in there. the brunette approached you from behind and stopped just shy of you. "you've been acting weird for weeks, ignoring me, rejecting every single offer to hang out - did i do something wrong?"

that last sentence hurts you, it hurt to think of him wondering if he'd upset you. "no." is all you manage to say.

night envelops you both, the quiet thumping of the music from inside fills the silence in between your words.

"then, what?" he asks and you can hear him almost stomp his feet.

"people keep asking me if we're. . . a thing and i thought. . . well i thought it would be better if we kept some distance, that's all." you said with a shrug, folding your arms firmly.

silence falls around you both for a few moments. you wondered if he could hear how loudly your heart was beating in your chest, as though it were threatening to escape.

and then you could feel his presence behind you, his head near your shoulder, lips close to your ear. ". . . is that what you want?" clapton asked, his breath shaking slightly.

the closeness was almost too much to handle. your stomach in knots, it trips over itself, desperately trying to untangle the anxious mess inside. of course distance wasn't what you wanted.

he mutters your name softly into your ear, placing a hand on your hip and you snap, turning quickly with clenched fists. you want to yell, you want to ask him what you both are, you want to tell him to piss off - you want him.

fuck, you want him.

clapton raises his hands slightly to give you space and looks rather defeated, those hazel puppy dog eyes veering to the left to avert your heated gaze. but he then stands still, slowly his eyes return to yours and he can see conflict behind your eyes. gaining a little more of his confidence back, he puffs out his chest and takes a step closer. you noticed how his hands still shook though, despite that secure stance.

you held his gaze as he approached, your own hands shaking in turn. he almost commanded your attention with those eyes. and you realise in that moment that clapton sees you. he really sees you. he always has. you crave him, like it's been years since you both touched, his soft skin against yours.

"is that. . . what you want?" he repeats, bringing you out of your thoughts and he's firmer this time. you are inches from one another.

his hand snakes towards your neck along your supple skin, cupping against your jaw, thumb resting on your cheek. you can't help but let out a small gasp in response as your hand comes up to rest on his wrist. your cheek nuzzles into his touch, warm, safe.

"i want you." you finally admit, words trembling from your mouth, a short laugh following suit as if it was so silly to hear it out loud.

clapton's eyes sparkle and stare back into yours. you notice how his whole face lights up, unable to hide the smile pulling on his lips. "you have me, you always have." he admits with a soft chuckle like it was so obvious.

and then he kisses you, he kisses you like he's hungry, like he's starving. your lips collide, your eyes close and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. you come undone. clapton wraps an arm around you to pull your body closer to his and you trail a hand up the back of his neck to grip that messy, adorable hair. his tongue slips into your mouth and you welcome it, feeling warmth rise in your belly.

you never wanted to let go, you never wanted to stop. his hand firmly on your neck and a strong hand on your back, he held you tightly. though you tried to suppress it, a little sigh of pleasure escapes and you can feel him smirk proudly through the kiss. it causes him to hold you tighter in response and your other hand grips his shirt for stability.

the cold air nips at your skin but it's a welcome sensation against the fervency of the kiss. his hand slides around your neck to the back of your head, his fingers lacing into the back of your hair causing ripples of tingles across your shoulders. you whisper his name into his mouth and it comes out in a pleading tone - but you're not sure what you're pleading for.

he gives you what you want, despite you yourself not knowing what that was. a gentle tug on your hair and his firm hand trailing down your side to tug at the bottom of your shirt cheekily. a giggle erupts from your lips as you pull away just enough to let it out, eyeing him with a smirk.

before you know it, your hand is in his and your eyes are drawn to watch your hands tangle together. it amazes you how perfectly they fit, his digits sneaking into yours with a thumb caressing your skin. it felt right. this was exactly what you wanted. it felt different from the other times, more tender, more meaningful. he gives your hand a gentle squeeze and you meet his gaze once more.

"so," he speaks up, breathless, "is our anniversary now or is it when i thought we were actually dating all those years ago?"

you can't help but laugh, breathless too. "oh my god," you roll your eyes, "shut up."

#my writing #clapton davis #clapton davis detention #clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #detention fanfiction #josh hutcherson #writing request #jhutch #j hutch #detention 2011 #clapton davis x y/n #clapton davis gif #clapton davis gifs #clapton davis fanfiction #clapton davis fanfic

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nkogneatho · 1 year

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Ex-husband gojo that was just released from the prison box needs to get off. *I can't get it put of my head*

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

#mlist #liawot jjk #taglist #whoreclub

—cw: fem!reader, clit stimulation, mutual orgasm, a little angsty, spoilers ofc.

—a/n: It was supposed to be a thirst but I was in my feels so it's a drabble now. Sorry.

Tumblr works on reblogs so it's appreciated.

Ex-husband!Gojo who should've been minding his own business, prioritizing the crisis that has befallen. Instead, he found himself longing for something that wasn't his. Wanting to touch something he had no more right to. But wait. Is that entirely true? Because you both did share a connection. A marriage for fucks sake. Even if it was over because you couldn't take his ignorance towards the relationship, deep down, you too longed for his touch.

Heaven knows how many cold nights you hugged the pillow he used to lay his head on, compelling yourself in this vague imagination of the material being him. And what about the times when you felt so horny, that you could only get off to the thought of him. No one else.

There was a loud thud on your door. You walked curiouslyx and opened it. Although before your eyes could absorb the view, your feelings could sink in, the man pressed his lips against your, almost so harsh that you could fall. But his calloused hands rested on your lowers spine, keeping you right where you are.

When you realised who it actually is, you should move right. You should shove him away, yell at him, scream. Then why your shivering hands wrap around his neck, pulling him further in the kiss, till both your feet are away from the threshold. The kiss is so heated, you don't even realize you have almost reached your couch until you feel something hit your heels. Satoru grabs your shoulder and pushed you further.

"Toru," you call, tears threatening your eyes.

"Fuck, I miss you. I am so sorry. Please," there's so much regret in his voice, yet so much love. "Please let me stay, baby."

You feel so furious. Not for the fact that he had the nerve to appear suddenly, wanting to stay, but for the fact that he thought you had enough courage to deny him. Even after knowing what had happened to him. When you got the news of your ex husband being sealed, you felt like almost a part of you died.

And now with his touch, it came alive once again.

Satoru's hands run all over your—now naked—body. It's almost like when a sculptor touches his figures, tracing the outlines to remember the nostalgic feeling of how it felt to make it what it is. He knows. Toru still remembers how quickly you get wet. It turns him on. He wants to shove his dick in you. But he doesn't. Not yet. He wants to feel in a new way. Gojo quickly gives his boner a few pumps, before lining it up your slick. Your pussy is so wet, it can fill up an empty tube of lube.

"Miss me that much?"

"Mhm. Need you," you mewl. He spits on your cunt, then uses the tip of his cock to mix the saliva and your wetness. As much as your pussy is calling him in, he doesn't push it past your hole. What he does is put a pillow under your back, so now you are angled a little upwards, perfect for him to do what he is about to.

Gojo moves both your legs, holding it so it's straight in the air, so now what he has is your pussy lips folded perfectly, as the juices flow out of you. He aligns his veined cock parallel to your cunt, and starts moving. You don't feel the sweet pain of him filling up your hole. What you feel is past it. The veins on his cock so erect, they are stimulating your clit. The wetness causing no friction but just smooth moving of both your sex.

Your legs shut tight helped him squeeze your lips so he can feel the tightness. God the noises erupting from this act are so lewd. Gojo squints to see you biting your lips in pleasure. The little "ngh"s you've been whimpering. He loves it. Squeezing you even tighter, he uses his finger to manipulate his tip into perfectly rubbing your clit, stimulating your orgasm. To chase your high, you squeeze your legs even tighter. He fastens his pace chasing his own. Surprisingly, you both cum at the same time. His warm semen spurting on your stomach, you can see the top of his cock from the position. What gojo sees—feels is your juices flowing so much, it is dripping down his balls, pooling the couch.

He parts your legs, leaning in to land a kiss on your lips. "Missed you."

"Was that damn cube better than this apartment?" you ask.

"Not sure what kind of question is that but no."

"Then why the fuck did you stay in it for so long?" He almost chuckles when you are tearing up. It humors him to acknowledge that even after you were the one who left him, he wasn't the only one missing everything he had.

"It hasn't been that long, ya know?" he grins. You hit him gently on the chest. "Just a few weeks."

"Felt like three years." You wrap your hands around his neck. "Don't leave."

"Don't worry. I plan on bothering you for the rest of your life." He says with a smug look around his face, before kissing your forehead, reminding you of the warmth of his love.

#gojo x female reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo smut #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo drabbles

2K notes · View notes

gureumz · 1 year

Text

are you?

rating: explicit

members: sunghoon, heeseung

notes/warnings: fem!reader, smoking, INFIDELITY, bf!heeseung, reader cheats on heeseung, rivalry between sunghoon and heeseung, university setting, dirty talk, protected sex, public sex, car sex, once again: THERE IS CHEATING IN THIS STORY

a/n: please know that i do not condone cheating irl. this is merely an exercise on writing and a test of my skills when depicting themes like this. got the idea from this tiktok.

read part 2 here

lee heeseung is the perfect boyfriend.

tall, handsome, highly athletic, a phenomenal singer and dancer, oozing charisma with every step he takes, every perfect smile he sends your way, every discreet-but-not-really shift of his hands over the slope of your ass.

you, quiet and often unassuming, couldn't have asked for someone better. not that you wanted to, because you know in your heart of hearts that lee heeseung is as best as you can do.

the way you got together was a serendipitous mix of being at the right place at the right time and an uncharacteristic surge of confidence on your part.

you were loitering right outside the gates of your university, huddled closely with your friends, identical cigarettes hanging between your fingers or puckered in between perfectly glossed lips. a couple of you preferred the artificial, flavored alternatives, but it was nicotine all the same.

"sorry ladies, i hate to do this, but can any of you lend me a lighter?"

you turned and it was like a cliche scene in some romcom. hands shoved in his uniform slacks, the infamous engineering polo hanging off his broad frame, heeseung eyed you with some mix of boyish charm and adorable bashfulness.

it took you a second to realize that you were the one holding the neon pink lighter, having forgotten who it really belonged to. it was communal among your friends at this point.

you, in a split-second decision probably fueled by some kind of girlish giddiness at his handsome looks, held the lighter up and flicked it on.

heeseung chuckled, pulling a box of reds out of his pocket. slipping a cigarette between his lips, he bent down to your level, aligning the end with the tiny flame emitted by the lighter.

"thanks," heeseung said after the end of his cigarette lit up, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. he straightened up, sending you a wink.

your friends were watching this exchange with heightened curiosity, eyebrows raised and mouths curling in amused smiles.

heeseung made a move as if to turn, but stopped short, bringing his attention back to you.

"hey, aren't you jay's friend from high school?" heeseung asked, jerking his head towards the direction of his friends.

you followed the direction of where he vaguely gestured, and sure enough, jay, indeed an old friend from high school, and some other guys were watching you from the other end of the large gate leading to the inside of your university.

you waved at jay and he enthusiastically waved back once he determined who you were.

"________, right?" heeseung had continued to ask, grinning down at you.

"yeah," you confirmed. "sorry, what was your name?"

"heeseung," he replied, holding his hand out to you.

a handshake, exchanged instagrams, about three dates, and two months later, you had the honor of calling yourself lee heeseung's girlfriend.

you wouldn't have it any other way.

especially now that he has his hands running up and down your sides, your back pressed firmly against his front, the music blaring loud in both of your ears.

the party was his idea, obviously, but you wouldn't say no to a night of drinking and dancing with heeseung.

"you look gorgeous," heeseung whispers lowly in your ear. as if to emphasize his point, he places a kiss right behind your ear.

"look at all of these people ogling at you," heeseung adds, chuckling.

"oh please, they're looking at you," you reply. you catch a girl in a sparkly top giving your boyfriend a totally obvious once-over.

heeseung turns you around to face him, hips swaying along to the music. you match his movements, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"only because i'm with the most beautiful girl in here," heeseung counters back, making a move to kiss you on the lips.

you kiss back, feeling his arms tighten around you. you giggle against his mouth.

"slow down there, tiger," you tease as you pull away. "should i get us more drinks?"

heeseung's lips pull up in a smirk. he leans in to kiss you again, briefly this time.

"sure, princess. just rum and coke for me."

you nod, wriggling free from heeseung's grasp. you make your way to the bar, but not before heeseung lands a quick slap to your ass.

you lean over the bar, patiently waiting for the bartender to notice you. you quickly rattle off your orders once he does, and you have time to perch yourself on one of the barstools while you wait.

you survey the club before you. most of the patrons are university-age, just like you, with a good chunk of actual students from your own institution.

you feel somebody slide into the seat next to yours and you spare them an absentminded glance. you do a double take when you realize he was beaming at you.

"are you alone?" the stranger asks. you cautiously shift away from him, though, you would be lying if you said he wasn't attractive.

you remind yourself that even serial killers can look like greek gods.

"no, i'm with my friends," you explain, waving a hand towards the general direction of your table.

"i'm just getting drinks," you continue.

the stranger nods, studying your face. "cool. i'm sunghoon."

he reaches a hand out to you and you stifle a smile.

"________," you return, grasping his hand in yours. his skin was soft, but the grip he has is as manly as it gets.

"wanna dance while you wait for your drinks?" sunghoon asks, leaning in closer. you can smell his perfume now, and you can just make out the moles adorning his face. he has an insanely high-angled nose, too.

"sure," you answer, a grin spreading across your face. you look over sunghoon's shoulder and you have to stop yourself from laughing.

heeseung had sidled up behind sunghoon, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"you have to ask my boyfriend, though," you continue, motioning with your chin towards heeseung. a master of timing as always, heeseung walks over to you and drapes an arm around your shoulder.

"ask me, what, park?" heeseung questions, raising an eyebrow at sunghoon.

you look up at heeseung in surprise, not expecting him to actually know sunghoon.

sunghoon deflects from the question. "didn't expect to see you here, hyung."

heeseung scoffs, pulling you closer to him.

"i could say the same for you," heeseung says in something akin to a sneer. "finally pulled the stick out your ass enough to have fun?"

sunghoon rolls his eyes, rising from his seat. he locks eyes with you and smiles.

"nice meeting you, ________."

without another word, sunghoon stalks off into the crowd, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"what was that about? you know him?" you interrogate heeseung, slipping your fingers between his.

heeseung snickers before leaning down to kiss your temple.

"just some asshole from one of my classes," heeseung explains. "completely insufferable."

you decide not to press on the matter further, and to your relief, the bartender returns, sliding your drinks towards you.

heeseung picks up his drink and downs half of it. the uneasy clenching in his jaw doesn't go unnoticed by you.

---

one thing you've learned about heeseung is that he loves attention. whether he's aware of this or not is unknown to you.

not that it's a bad thing, but you speculate that with a face like that and a multitude of talents, heeseung just grew accustomed to being poured with attention and compliments.

you didn't mind it, or at least you tried not to mind it. stopping every few paces when you're walking across campus with heeseung because he ran into someone he knew is one thing, the overflowing comments on his social media posts are fine, but even you're not above admitting that the plethora of girls that dote on your boyfriend don't give your skin an uncomfortable prickle.

you don't say anything because you should be thankful that your boyfriend is major hot stuff at your uni, but it's the way he responds so enthusiastically to girls gushing over him that irks you.

but you're afraid of shattering the perfect trajectory your relationship. you convince yourself that it's just some underlying insecurity you have and you can get over it. you tell yourself that you're okay with not bringing it up with heeseung.

because you love him and you're sure he doesn't mean it.

bball practice is gonna run late tonight. don't wait up k baby?

the text from heeeung pings on your screen and you hurriedly type out an affirming reply.

you flip your phone face down on the table, pulling your tablet closer to you, eyes refocusing on the notes displayed across the screen. you're kind of glad that heeseung was busy because you really needed to hunker down and study for a major test tomorrow.

that's how you found yourself cooped up in the library, in the very back section where few students care enough to venture, to ensure the least amount of distraction for you.

there's about three other students within your immediate vicinity but a blur of movement alerts you that a fourth person is about to join you. you look up from your notes and you nearly gasp when you realize who it is.

he hasn't noticed you yet, eyes too focused on picking the perfect desk for him to settle into, but you know without a shadow of a doubt that sunghoon is the one making his way toward your side of the library.

your eyes finally meet him and for a second, neither of you makes a move, just staring blankly at each other. but then sunghoon brings a hand up and waves, smiling handsomely at you.

you wave back politely and for some reason, sunghoon takes this as an invitation to seat himself at the desk directly to your left.

"mind if i sit here?" sunghoon whispers. you're mildly surprised to find out that he looks even better under regular, non-strobe lighting.

"not at all," you say, shaking your head. you turn back to your desk, but you know you're already half-distracted.

it's that damned perfume of his, for sure.

thankfully, sunghoon doesn't try to make further conversation and after a while you find yourself slowly sinking back into zen, eyes moving over the subject matter you were studying. your focus is once again interrupted only by sunghoon abruptly rising from his seat.

he catches your eye as he walks over to some bookshelves and he smiles at you yet again. without even thinking, you notice yourself smiling back.

you hold your breath as you watch the spot where he disappeared between stacks of books, unsure what you're even waiting for. as if pulled by some unknown force, you slip off your own seat, legs bringing you to the exact bookshelf where sunghoon is rifling through some reference books.

he's hunched over the text, forehead creased in concentration as he scans over the words, but his expression eases when he sees you appear in his periphery.

"oh, _______," sunghoon lets out, mildly startled. "nice seeing you again here."

you don't say anything for a few seconds, suddenly at a loss for what exactly you were doing following sunghoon. he looks at you expectantly, but you notice the hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

"i have something to ask you," you say rather plainly. sunghoon closes the book in his hand, tucking it under his arm.

"shoot," sunghoon replies, leaning against the bookshelf. your eyes flit for a moment to the veins running up his arms.

"are you in some sort of fight with my boyfriend?" you ask, stepping closer, conscious that your voice might carry over to the librarian's desk nearby.

sunghoon chuckles. "heeseung-hyung is the only one fighting. i would prefer not to get into any altercations with him."

you tilt your head to the side, confused. sunghoon licks his lips before continuing.

"i guess he's not used to someone competing with him and actually winning over him sometimes," sunghoon explains.

you ponder on this for a moment. you're aware that heeseung has some sort of an ego, but being mere months into the relationship, you weren't fully sure how deep it went.

"so, you two are in some sort of academic rivalry?" you joke, eyebrows raised at sunghoon. he laughs quietly.

"i guess? he can only wish to be as good as i am in calculus," sunghoon jests back, inching ever so slightly closer to you.

you're nearly toe to toe but the way sunghoon's hair falls into his eyes, and the curve of his lips as he smiles has you frozen in place, admiring every sharp turn of his features.

"don't go stealing my boyfriend, now," you reply, moving as if to kick sunghoon in the shin. you lightly nudge his leg with your foot.

so it's you who ultimately breaks the physical barrier.

sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. he briefly touches your chin with his forefinger and you bristle, surprised at the unexpected contact.

"it's not your boyfriend i want," sunghoon says before walking off.

you stand there, fingertips tingling and heart beating wildly.

---

sex with heeseung is often spontaneous and because of that, you've found yourself stretched out from his cock in unusual places around campus more times than you care to admit.

this evening, you're shoved behind some bleachers in your university's basketball court, your hands braced against the metal as heeseung pounds you from behind.

your prudish uniform skirt is bunched up around your waist, and one cup of your bra is pulled all the way down under your blouse. you bite down on your lip, hard, as heeseung pistons in and out of you.

"fuck, heeseung, please," you whisper, unsure whether you're asking him to please, make me cum or please, hurry up. maybe both. because you can hear footsteps and voices approaching and despite the boost of newfound confidence you've acquired with being heeseung's girlfriend, you're not sure what you'd do with yourself if you suddenly find yourself trending among the students of your university for fucking behind the bleachers.

heeseung merely grunts in reply, sealing his hand over your mouth. you can see through the gaps in the bleachers that there's a group making their way toward your general direction. it's dark enough, just after dusk, that you're concealed from anyone standing a few feet away, but you suddenly remember with a chill that people often come here to smoke and do other...recreational substances.

someone from the group is walking faster than the rest and he's making a beeline straight to where you and heeseung are. heeseung's movements have slowed down to mild, drawn-out thrusts, but he keeps his hand over your face.

stepping into the dimmed lighting of the court, the figure approaching your spot stops short. he's looking directly at you.

you realize with a start, your heart sinking in humiliation, that it's sunghoon who's staring right into your eyes, his gaze somehow finding yours in the shadows of the bleachers. his face twitches in recognition before morphing into an expression of amusement.

"let's go somewhere else," sunghoon calls out to his companions, eyes still locked on yours.

"i think someone's fucking in the bleachers," sunghoon adds, before finally tearing his vision away from you.

the others who came with sunghoon laugh, hollering and making obscene sounds, but they walk away nonetheless, leaving you and heeseung alone once again in the court.

"who was that?" heeseung questions, removing his hand from your face. he licks the shell of your ear before biting down on your earlobe.

"n-no idea," you reply shakily, suppressing a cry as heeseung sinks his dick deep into you.

---

"are you here for heeseung?"

you look up from your phone, eyes landing on sunghoon's tall figure. he has the same easy stance, arms crossed, and his signature smile.

"yeah," you reply curtly, memories of that night behind the bleachers flooding back in your mind.

"why, so you can fuck him again behind the bleachers?" sunghoon asks, stepping closer. you look over his shoulder nervously at the other students pouring out of the classroom where he came from.

"that's none of your business," you say, avoiding his eyes.

"oh, yeah?" sunghoon asks with a laugh. "i'm pretty sure you made it everyone's business when you decided to fuck in public."

"it wasn't totally in public."

"sure, it was. anyone could've walked in."

sunghoon reaches for a strand of your hair. you feel your eyes flutter nearly shut when his hand brushes against your cheek.

"good thing i was the one who did," sunghoon adds, winking.

"did you enjoy the show?" you ask lowly, finally meeting sunghoon's eyes.

"did you wish it was you?"

sunghoon gulps, stepping back. just then, you see heeseung walk out of the classroom, eyes lighting up at the sight of your face.

"hey, baby," he greets, reaching for you. he stops when he sees sunghoon standing nearby.

"are you that thick that i need to explicitly tell you that i don't want you near my girlfriend?" heeseung scoffs at sunghoon.

"chill out, hyung, we just recognized each other from the club," sunghoon replies, eyeing you one last time before walking away.

you try not to let your hands shake so hard as heeseung links his arm with yours, rattling off about his class.

---

you're convinced that he's following you. how could he not be, when he's slipping into the same desk next to you in the library?

"miss me?" sunghoon asks playfully, setting his bag down on the desk in front of him.

it's been nearly two weeks since you last saw him outside that classroom, having been caught up in the whirlwind of midterms. even your time with heeseung was limited, with only brief lunches together as life pulled you in all different directions.

"not at all," you reply nonchalantly. your stomach flips when you inhale and you catch yet another whiff of his perfume.

would it be wrong to say that maybe you did miss him?

"come on, i thought you liked my company," sunghoon quips, leaning his elbow on the desk and perching his chin on his palm. he looks at you directly, unabashedly eyeing you up and down.

"where did you get that idea?" you ask in an attempt to sound irritable, but your voice comes out in a weak whisper.

sunghoon shrugs. "just a feeling."

"if you didn't, you would have told heeseung-hyung about our chance meetings and he would have beaten me up to a pulp by now," sunghoon continues, getting up from his seat before stretching lazily.

you swallow, pondering his words. it's true. if you disliked his presence so much, you would have ratted him out to heeseung. you know what sunghoon is doing. you can practically feel the flirty undertone in his words. if you were a better person, you would have shut it down a long time ago.

are you a better person?

"i kinda need your help, though," sunghoon says, staring down at you. you raise your eyes to his and you know he loves the perspective it gives him.

"i might need more books than i can carry," sunghoon explains. "might need an extra pair of hands."

without another word, he stalks off, disappearing between the same two bookshelves where you had your first conversation in this library.

you laugh to yourself, knowing that everything that came out of his mouth just now was bullshit, a guy who clearly spends hours in the gym, arms totally jacked, needing your help with a stack of books?

tell me right now, are you a better person?

possibly not, because you stand up all the same, legs mechanically taking you to where you know sunghoon is. you turn the corner and sure enough, sunghoon is waiting, back pressed against the wall at the very end of the two bookshelves. his arms are crossed and despite the shadows cast on his figure by the wooden shelves, you know his eyes are trained on you.

you take a quick glance over your shoulder, but you know no one else is there other than the surly librarian sitting at her desk. why were you in the library, anyway? exams had just finished. surely, you had a reason.

or maybe it was the same serendipitous mix of being at the right place at the right time and an uncharacteristic surge of confidence on your part.

last chance. are you a better person?

surely you aren't. not when you're practically shoving yourself against sunghoon's wide frame, fingers frantically clutching at his clothing as you pull him closer, closer, please, closer. not when you're kissing him with so much hunger, teeth clashing and tongues licking messily into each other's mouths.

sunghoon presses you against the wall, reaching under your skirt, and pulling the thin material of your underwear aside. he drinks in your moans as he easily finds your clit, rubbing in slow circles with his index and middle finger.

he pulls away, watching you as you throw your head back in pleasure. you refuse to look at him, lest it makes this whole thing seem real.

"look at me," sunghoon whispers right next to your ear. you shake your head, tears prickling in your eyes.

tears of shame.

sunghoon switches his fingers, replacing his index with his middle. he gathers the wetness between your legs, coating his digits generously. he slides the two fingers inside you and you nearly fall apart right at that moment.

you open your eyes, blinking the tears away and sunghoon is looking at you with an intensity that has your knees buckling. salty streaks cascade down your cheeks and sunghoon leans in to kiss them away.

"tell me to stop and i'll stop," sunghoon mumbles against your temple.

you wrap your arms around his torso, curling your fingers in the material of his uniform.

"keep going," you whisper. sunghoon kisses your forehead, your nose, then finally your lips.

his fingers drag in and out of you and you pant against sunghoon's mouth. it's embarrassing how close he's getting you. just a little more and he'll successfully coax an orgasm out of you.

you momentarily remember that it takes heeseung way longer to get you to finish, and that's often with help from your own fingers.

oh, god, heeseung. what have i done?

"that's it, love, it's okay," sunghoon says against the top of your head when he feels you clenching around him.

just as you predicted, it doesn't take too long. you finish with a quiet shudder against sunghoon's chest, your lip nearly bruised at how hard you've bitten down on it.

hiccupping, you lean back, watching as sunghoon brings his coated fingers to his lips, licking them clean and relishing in the way you're staring intently at his actions.

sunghoon leans in to kiss you a moment later and you whimper softly when you taste yourself on his tongue.

"we should go," sunghoon whispers, breath fanning your face.

you merely nod, shakily smoothing your clothes down.

---

you and heeseung look like the perfect couple.

you, in your dress that perfectly complimented the color of heeseung's suit and heeseung beaming proudly as he leads you through the hotel lobby towards the event hall.

it didn't take much convincing for you to agree to be heeseung's date to the engineering division's anniversary dinner. you love dressing up for fancy events and you love heeseung, so it was a no-brainer.

you love heeseung. you truly, deeply, honestly love heeseung.

you know you do. even when merely a week ago, you had his so-called rival's fingers deep inside you in a quiet corner of the library.

and as the saying goes, speak of the devil.

sunghoon is standing by the door of the event hall, dressed smartly in his own suit, and a similarly attired woman standing next to him. you've seen her before, one of the models on the university's advertorial billboards scattered all over the city.

you catch sunghoon's eye as you approach the hall but he makes no indication of noticing you. heeseung steers the two of you into the venue, his hand settling on the small of your back.

"i'm surprised park got himself a date for tonight," heeseung jokes, smirking down at you.

"don't be like that," you return weakly. "you're putting out bad karma."

heeseung just chuckles, leaning down to kiss your cheek. he leads you to a table, one matching the number on your invitations. heeseung greets the people at the table and you smile when he introduces you. you're about to take a seat when you spot sunghoon and his date walking over.

"oh great, we're sharing a table," heeseung comments sarcastically, slipping into his own seat. you lay a hand on heeseung's thigh in warning as you settle beside him.

sunghoon just smiles, coaxing his companion closer to him.

"you all look great tonight," sunghoon offers brightly to everyone at the table, eyes lingering just a second longer on you.

"this is wonyoung, but i'm sure you know who she is," sunghoon adds and the girl beside him visibly blushes.

you stop breathing when sunghoon situates himself on the chair beside you, his knee briefly knocking against yours. you feel heeseung tighten his hold on your hand.

you breeze through the program rather easily, mostly ignoring sunghoon's looming presence beside you and busying yourself with your boyfriend and his other classmates instead.

that is, until you feel fingers brush against your knee under the tablecloth.

he wouldn't dare.

would he?

you discreetly check on heeseung and he's animatedly discussing something with another guy who you learned was named jake. you chew on your lip nervously, trying to appear engaged in their conversation despite the undeniable press of sunghoon's fingertips on your knee.

you clear your throat, quickly knocking sunghoon's hand away.

"i might go for a quick smoke," you say a little sheepishly, laying a hand on heeseung's shoulder. "you wanna come with?"

heeseung pauses for a second but shakes his head. "you go ahead, baby. text me if you need anything, okay?"

you nod, tight-lipped as you smile at him. you grab your purse, and you mentally punch yourself for feeling relieved that heeseung said no.

you wouldn't dare.

would you?

you make brief eye contact with sunghoon as you stand, excusing yourself from the rest of the table.

you weave through the throng of people in the event hall, speedwalking through the lobby, and clambering down the stairs at the exit before finally arriving at the hotel parking lot.

you find a low wall towards the edge of the lot, deeming it clean enough for you to sit on. you hoist yourself up, letting your legs dangle from the edge.

you sit there, having gone through two whole sticks before you see a figure walking towards you.

"your boyfriend's looking for you," sunghoon declares, coming to a stop in front of you. from where you're seated on the wall, you're a good few inches taller than him now.

"is he really?" you ask, taking a drag from your cigarette. sunghoon doesn't say anything. after a moment, he holds his hand out.

you pass him the cigarette, watching as he inhales. his eyes don't leave yours as he steps closer, taking another drag before returning the stick back to you.

the cig is still half good but you extinguish it against the wall, dropping it into the concrete below. sunghoon's standing right in front of you now, hands smoothing up your thighs.

"you're really fucking gorgeous tonight," sunghoon blurts out, leaning in close.

you lay your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, letting sunghoon run the tip of his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply as if memorizing your scent. you exhale as you feel him kiss your shoulder, his finger discreetly nudging the strap of your dress down.

"not here," you warn, letting the strap stay down. you reach over to run your hands through sunghoon's hair near the nape of his neck.

not here.

not 'no' or 'stop it'. it's a 'yes', but not where everyone can see.

"my car is right there," sunghoon says matter-of-factly, turning to gesture at a black car just a few feet away.

you eye it thoughtfully, imagination already running wild as you estimate the wide backseat space of sunghoon's vehicle.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear sunghoon laugh.

"whatever you're thinking, we can make it happen," sunghoon says, a seductive lilt evident in his voice. you turn to him, grasping his face in your hands.

you kiss him as if he's the only man you've ever wanted.

you kiss him as if breaking apart would kill you. even as he's pulling you off the wall from where you're seated, you make no move to part from his lips.

how you got into his backseat without tripping over yourselves is beyond you. but you're here now, your dress unzipped and pulled down to reveal your chest. sunghoon's tie is yanked loose, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone. he's sitting, leaned back, with you perched on his lap.

"do you want it?" sunghoon questions, a hand grasping one of your boobs, his face pressed up against the side of your neck.

"yes," you gasp out. sunghoon grunts in your ear.

you lean back to let sunghoon undo his pants enough for him to pull them just below his half-hard dick. he wraps a large hand around his shaft, pulling you close, melding your lips together.

"middle console," sunghoon directs, guiding your hand behind you. you feel around the storage space, fingers finding the telltale foil material of a condom wrapper.

you hand it to sunghoon, breathing heavily as you watch him rip it open with his teeth. he expertly slides it down on himself with one hand, his other already pulling at your skirt.

you get it out of the way eventually, your hips hovering right above sunghoon's. you blindly guide sunghoon to your entrance, gasping when you feel his tip prod at your hole.

before you know it, you've sunk down on sunghoon completely, his strong arms bracing you against him, letting the both of you grow accustomed to each other.

"you're perfect," sunghoon babbles into your hair and you squeeze your eyes shut, guilt rising in your chest.

but all that falls away when you feel sunghoon angle his hips up, thrusting shallowly into you. you cry out into his shoulder, scrambling to hold yourself up so he can move a little more freely.

you plant your legs on either side of him, holding yourself up on your knees. sunghoon readjusts himself, holding you over him. you move your hips experimentally and both of you groan at how deep he goes inside you.

in the dark, cramped space of sunghoon's car, with the air conditioning set to lowest so as to not draw any attention to both of you, you start to ride him.

it's sloppy, messy, uncoordinated, but the desire that burns within both of you is enough to fuel you on. you pray in the back of your mind that no one comes this way, but your brain is largely occupied by sunghoon and sunghoon alone.

how he feels inside you, how hot his breath is against your chest, how sweet your name sounds coming from his mouth.

just as you're tiring, sunghoon maneuvers you so you're laying on the seat, your hands bracing against the door above you. sunghoon leans over you, slipping in once more. you spread your legs wider, and despite the awkward angle, all is forgotten once sunghoon moves.

the car is rocking softly now, you're sure of it, but the pleasure building inside you has you throwing all care out the window.

"you feel so good," you whimper, nails digging into sunghoon's shoulders.

"yeah?" sunghoon says. "better than heeseung-hyung?"

you're struck speechless, but sunghoon slams into you harder, as if demanding an answer.

"better than your arrogant boyfriend, hm?" sunghoon pries, pupils blown wide as he looks straight into your own eyes.

"i see the way he acts," sunghoon continues, spitting the words out harshly. "going around acting like he can pull anyone and everyone."

the words spark something primal in you. yes, yes, you're right!

"can't he see he has this perfect fucking pussy at his disposal?" sunghoon says through gritted teeth.

"yes," you finally relent, moaning wantonly when you feel sunghoon hit a certain spot within you. "fuck, you're so much better than him."

this sends sunghoon into a frenzy, fucking into you with abandon, the repeated and prolonged stretch in your pussy making your head spin and the muscles in your abdomen tighten.

"come on, love," sunghoon says, almost pleading. "need you to cum with me."

"oh god," you breathe out, one of your hands finding purchase on the headrest above you and the other tugging harshly at sunghoon's hair.

"yes, yes, sunghoon, shit, right there!"

sunghoon lets out a guttural sound as he cums, your own orgasm slamming into you with strength and magnitude you didn't know was possible for you to experience.

a minute passes. then two. the night is once again quiet, the distant sound of music coming from the event hall seemingly worlds away.

you and sunghoon hurriedly compose yourselves, erasing any trace of what just transpired.

on the other side of the wall from where you sat merely minutes before, cigarette butts and a knotted condom lie forgotten, the only evidence of your ultimate undoing.

---

"you seem exhausted, babe," heeseung comments, casting a sideways glance at you. you lean against the passenger side window, your eyes heavy with sleep.

the city lights zoom past you as heeseung drives down the highway with little interruption, seeing as it's past midnight on a weekday.

"yeah, i'm just not used to wearing heels for that long," you supply, yawning just as you get the sentence out.

heeseung lays a comforting hand on your thigh. you place your own hand on top of his, grasping his fingers in yours. if he notices just how hard you're squeezing, he doesn't comment on it.

"i love you," heeseung says, bringing your joined hands up to his lips.

a pause.

"i love you, too," comes your quiet reply.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon scenarios #heeseung scenarios #w: sunghoon #w: heeseung

1K notes · View notes

lazyjellyfish300 · 9 days

Text

The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 6🥀

AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Contestant!Reader

Synopsis: After the big rose ceremony fight, your future in Paradise is uncertain. But one thing is for certain, a new storm is brewing... Word count 4.8k

Part 1(previous parts linked in the post)

A/N: EEEE, thank you for all the support and love this AU has gotten with all the recent asks as of late, just TY TY so much! 🖤 I think there will only be 3 chapters max after this then we will bid this series farewell 😢 going back to my Jersey Shore roots for this one as the inspiration mixed in!

DISCLAIMER: I have changed the name of the show for copyright purposes, I don't own or have rights to the TV show The Bachelor or Bachelor in Paradise and all credit goes to the rightful owners.

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST(slightly less in this chapter), DRAMA, SUGGESTIVE-GETTING HANDSY ON THE DANCE FLOOR, MULTIPLE PEOPLE MAKING OUT MENTIONED, NO MAJOR SMUT YET(THAT'S FOR THE FAIRYTALE SUITES 🤭😏), BREAK UP, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CHEATING, BETRAYAL, RELATIONSHIP TROUBLES, GASLIGHTING

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Jason Donner speaks in a voiceover: "Tonight on Singles in Paradise...

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Jason takes a deep breath as he addresses the anxious group that are setting in various spots in the common room. You and Felicia are holding onto each other's knees cross legged on the floor. Miguel is watching Jason's face intently for any detection of the news he is about to share. George has an arm around MJ who is fiddling nervously with her necklace. Ben is locked in a dead stare at a spot on the floor. Peter B. is noticeably absent.

"Alright, y'all , I know there's been a lot of madness around here lately. Just a little update on Dana: she will not be returning to paradise."

You and Felicia do your best not to crack a smile as you slowly turn to look at each other.

"Now..." Jason warns. "I do not condone anything that took place at the rose ceremony tonight. Physical violence will not be tolerated on any show of the Eligible Suitor Nation. However..." He pauses, motioning towards you.

"I understand that some of it was provoked by some words that were exchanged between fellow cast mates..." He continues, putting it vaguely. “....and I want you to know that we do not condone that either. Due to Dana's departure, Miguel?"

Miguel slowly looks up at Jason, a hopeful look on his face.

"We will let you stay another week. However, if you do not have a rose by that time, you will be going home for good. Understood?"

Miguel nods silently and smiles, uttering a murmur of gratitude.

"Great." Jason says. "Well, everyone, it's been a long night. Why don't we call it here. We'll have some fun surprises to look forward to tomorrow as well as a group outing. With that, I'll bid you all goodnight. Everyone behave from here on out, got it?" He points a finger at the room with everyone nodding and mumbling in silent confirmation.

"Good. Goodnight everyone." He turns, fastening one of his buttons on his light tan suit jacket as he steps out, walking away into the night.

Everyone sighs and Felicia pops up, offering both of her arms to you and grunts in unison with you as you use her to stand up as well, your feet and legs like television static from sitting cross legged on the floor. Felicia turns to Ben and gives him a hug in silence, talking quietly amongst each other before it's time to separate for bedtime.

Miguel takes you by the hand, your cheeks growing a little warm as you look up at him.

"You good?" He murmurs lowly at you.

You yawn loudly, raising your free hand over your mouth, nodding your head as you release it. "M'fine..."

You let go of his hand for a moment as you place both hands on the small of your back, bending backwards a little bit as you stretch your spine, holding your breath for a moment then letting it out with a deep sigh. "Just need some sleep I guess."

Miguel nods with a hum. "Want me to walk you to your room?"

"Um..." You hesitate a little, looking around then squeezing past Miguel to get your blanket that's sitting behind him on the couch. "I'll be alright. I was gonna walk back with Felicia anyways since we're staying in the same villa."

"Right, right..." Miguel nods, trying to disguise his disappointment by looking at a spot over your shoulder.

"Well, thank you, you know for having my back with everything...and g'night." You sort of bend your knees in a little bow of farewell with your blanket and your sandal wedge heels in your arms as you turn around, Felicia skipping quickly to walk by your side as you both stroll down the moonlit path to your room. Miguel watches you leave with a bittersweet look on his face.

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The camera sits in front of an unoccupied bamboo chair in the confessional area, until Peter B. comes into the frame, sitting down with a grunt.

He blows air out of his cheeks, shaking his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, sitting back in the chair and letting his arms flop dead to the side, the rose you gave him knocked askew and holding on by just one pin to his white button down.

One of the producers talks to him from behind the camera, the voice a little muffled and so the question is broadcasted across the screen in subtitle captions.

"What's going through your mind right now, Peter?"

Peter laughs pathetically, shaking his head and sitting up, leaning forward a little with his elbows in his lap, fingertips touching, hanging his head a little as he thinks silently to himself before he looks at the camera. "There's a lot on my mind now...but I just... there's nothing. You know? You know that feeling where you have so much on your mind that you just end up staying frozen where you are? Yeah. That's what I'm feeling like right now."

"Are things over between you and y/n?"

Peter B. puffs air out of his cheeks again. "I don't know." He shrugs, a tired look in his eyes "I don't know. She wants nothing to do with me right now."

He stares into space for a moment. "I'm over the bullshit. Miguel and George. Those two are a problem. They need to watch themselves. And, Ben's my boy, you know? But I was not expecting him to turn, *he snaps his fingers* ...like that."

He pauses once more, fuming silently, until he presses his face to his palms, hanging his head. "Things are gonna get ugly. Just watch."

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The sun rises on another day in paradise. The group shuffles into the common area, grabbing smoothies from the bar and bowls of cereal and oatmeal, eating in quiet silence as you all slowly start to wake up.

You approach Ben and Felicia at their table with your wet suit half on, asking her for help zipping you up the rest of the way. She nods, sticking her spoon in her mouth as she scoots forward on the bench, zipping you up.

The resort's bartender, James calls over to you. "Morning, ladies. What's the plan today?"

"Um surfing lessons, apparently. Hence, the wet suits." You gesture to your torso.

James nods with a smile as he wipes down the bar. "Nice nice. I heard things were quite eventful last night."

You scoff. "That's putting it lightly..."

"Wanna catch me up?"

You and Felicia look at each other. "Girl you do it..."

"Okay so basicallyy..." Felicia sits on one of the bar stools, scooting in closer. "It was ladies choice this week right? It was me and Ben, y/n and Peter, MJ and George. Web-Slinger went home. And Dana offered Miguel a rose but he declined so he was gonna go home. Then out of nowhere, the man decides to drop a bomb that Dana and Peter were caught fooling around in some bushes. Everyone started freaking out. The guys started getting into it. Then Dana and I got into it. Then she and Dana fought and Dana got her ass laid out. So how she's in the hospital, they're giving Miguel a second chance, and I guess now we're going surfing." Felicia concludes, nearly out of breath.

James chuckles and shakes his head. "I regret asking for an update." He leans on the bar, addressing you this time. "So where do you and Peter stand as of right now?"

"Right now?" You ask, taking a deep sigh as you contemplate. "Honestly, I don't even know. I think I'm over it, to be honest."

"Speaking of..." James reduces to a murmur.

"Hey."

You cheeks get hot as you sense Peter standing behind you without turning around.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" Peter asks, his face twisted into a slight plea.

You turn around, giving him a dry nod. Felicia cranes her neck as she watches you walk away with him.

You and Peter walk a short distance away, standing under the shade of a nearby palm tree. You raise one of your hands, cupping it in a visor over your eyes and squinting due to the sunlight as you look up at him with your other hand on your hip, waiting for his half ass apology with a slight aura of impatience wafting off of you.

Peter takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry for my actions last night. I was unfair to you, and I just hope that we can walk away on civil terms if anything."

You twist your mouth a little in annoyance. "You lied straight to my face, Peter. I mean.....what do you want me to say to that?"

"Nothing." Peter answers. "Nothing really. Just uh...." He's silent shaking his head. "I don't know. I just wanted to apologize and it wouldn't have felt right if I didn't at least say sorry before we ended things."

You nod, staying quiet for a moment. "Well, I mean I appreciate you trying to do the right thing. But I agree, I think we should end things, you know. Clearly, you still have some unresolved things to work out. I really didn't deserve that though."

"You're totally right, you didn't." Peter agrees, shifting his stance a little.

"Right."

Peter blows air out slowly. "Well..." He holds his arms out but you shake your head.

"Um...not this time, you know? I'm just not feeling it..."

"Right right..." Peter stuffs his hands back in his pockets in mild embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Alright." You nod in mutual conclusion and turn around, walking back to Felicia and Ben while Peter walks in a separate direction.

"Well?" Felicia, Ben and James await at the bar.

You shrug, having a seat next to Felicia, leaning forward with your forearms on the bar. "It's done. We're done."

"Just like that?" James asks.

"Just like that." You echo.

"I'm so sorry dude..." Felicia gives you a sad look of sympathy.

"No, you know? I'mI'm a little bummed, not going to lie. Yeah I liked him, but I really have no patience for it anymore, you know? You either want me, or you don't. And he can't decide what he wants. So to that I say: see ya."

"Amen." James says with an impressed hum.

"Girl, I'm so proud of you. Good for you." Felicia praises.

"So what does that mean for you now?" James asks. "Anyone else here you got your eye on?"

"Well..." You sigh, looking off. "Miguel still really wants another chance."

"You think you'll give it to him?" James inquires.

"I don't know..." You admit. "I mean, that's the thing. With Miguel, there's history there too, but you all saw how that ended and so now, I'm just feeling nervous about the whole thing. I would love nothing more than to just go up to him and say yes, yes let's do it, I'm all in. But are you gonna hurt me again and switch up the next day? I don't know."

James hums in agreement. "Can't say I blame you there. But, in Paradise, you gotta take risks. Who knows? Something about paradise: anything can happen. In fact..."

James bends down, retrieving a small wooden box with a slit in the top and setting on top of the bar. You and Felicia have looks on your faces that only say one thing: "oh shit", when you realize what it is.

"It's Truth Box Time."

Ben's eyes scrunch in curiosity. "How does this one work again?"

"Completely anonymous. But one hundred percent honest. Write down anything you wanna say to either a specific member of the group, or the group as a whole. Confessions, observations, complaints, truth bombs, dirty laundry. It all goes in here." James explains, patting that cursed box. "It's time to shake things up a bit. And the rule is: every single person needs to participate."

"That's the last thing this beach needs right now." Felicia groans.

Your mind buzzed with what drama and messy thoughts the box could bring forth, Miguel, and your future in Paradise as you made your way down the beach for your surfing lesson.

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Miguel gives you a smile as he comes walking down the beach to where you and the others are waiting, his floppy brown locks and sculpted ab muscles on full display with his half zipped up wet suit. "Good morning."

"Morning." You give him a little nod, grateful that you're wearing a pair of sunglasses to disguise your wandering eyes. Allowing yourself to indulge in staring at the man's behind as you help zip him up.

Throughout the surfing lesson, you're having a hard time paying attention to the instructor, things like the truth box and your future in Paradise and Miguel still plaguing your mind from earlier. Still, you manage to enjoy yourself, soaking up the healing rays of the sun and letting out a squeal and a wave to your friends on the shore when you finally manage to stand up on your board for longer than 2 seconds, shortly before the salty waves swallowed you up.

You and Felicia figure that's more than enough for one day, ordering a drink from the beach side attendants and applying a fresh layer of sunscreen while Miguel and Ben knock themselves out, surfing it up to their heart's content.

"We so needed this." You mutter to Felicia who gives a low hum in response as you both bask on your beach towels, eyes closed.

You can't help but become aware of some bickering coming from a short distance away, lowering your shades a little bit to make out who's starting off the drama fresh and early in the day this time.

"Fine, go lay down then. Oh my goddd, Mary Jane. First it's your hair doesn't look right, then it's your stomach hurting, why don't you be honest about what it really is?"

"George..."

"I didn't even wanna do this dumb hang ten, surf's up, shit anyway. Alls I said was thank you! What, you want me to say go fuck yourself?"

"It's not what you said, it's how you said it."

"Oh my God Mary Jane! Let me just run everything I say by you before I say it. Would you like that, would that make her royal Highness happy? Let me ask Queen Mary Jane before I call my mother and wish her a happy birthday how about that? Since she gets mad if I even breathe in the direction of another female!"

You don't make out the rest as you watch the pair wander a little further down the shore before you see MJ storm off and George throwing his hands in the air as he walks back towards the group.

"Damn. Poor MJ."

"I know the girl hates me but I can't help but feel bad for her. George is the biggest flirt. Everyone knows it." Felicia stretches out.

"You think I should go talk to her, just see if she's okay?"

"I mean, good luck if you do." Felicia retorts, reaching for her water bottle in her beach bag. "I could never get through to the girl."

"Hey!" Miguel and Ben come up, Miguel sitting himself down next to you.

"Stawwwp!" Felicia giggles when Ben wags his hair, spraying her like a wet dog.

Miguel grins at you, panting from his exertion earlier, looking heavenly with his wet mop of dark hair and wet droplets coating his sunkissed skin. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm gonna go do some damage control though."

Miguel's brow furrows. "Who?"

"MJ and George."

Miguel shakes his head with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "George can be kind of a douche."

"That's what I keep hearing." You say, sitting up and standing up. "So I'm gonna go try and see if I can help MJ. You know? I feel bad for her. She doesn't have anyone else here in Paradise."

Miguel nods slowly, but can't help but be a little apprehensive about the situation. "Be careful. I'd hate for you to get mixed up in anything."

"I won't." You give him a reassuring smile. "Be right back."

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You find MJ talking with James at the bar. Her voice tapers off when she realizes someone is behind her. She raises an eyebrow in a mixture of surprise and suspicion when she sees that it's you of all people.

You don't say anything at first, just give her a kind smile as you take the bar stool next to her. You both sit in awkward silence for a moment, then you break it.

"I know we haven't talked a whole lot or anything. I know you're thinking this must be so weird since we both dated Peter and everything but I just noticed you over here by yourself and wanted to see if you were okay?" You start off carefully with an overly sweet tone to demonstrate you pose no threat, testing the waters.

MJ softens a little then lets out a deep sigh, figuring what is it going to hurt to be honest at this point.

"Thank you. Just needed to get away for a sec...But I'm okay...and no, it's fine. Pete is never gonna change who he is. And I am who I am so..." She huffs and sips her margarita, then wiping her eyes. "But with George, he's literally perfect. Like it's so good when it's good but when we're not..."

You look at her with sympathetic eyes, not saying anything.

"Lately we've been having disagreements because I don't know if he realizes it, but he flirts with other women all the time. And he says to me, babe I'm just being nice. And I tell him, like I understand that, but to those women and to me it comes across as flirting."

"Right, right. No, I get you." You nod, leaning on your elbow. "Like it's just a respect thing."

"Exactly!" MJ rests her head in her palm, twirling her margarita glass in circles on the bar. "All I was trying to say was it's not what you say, it's your tone and how you say it. But once again, I'm the bad guy."

You nod, picking at your cuticles while you listen, lost in thought and also relieved that she's willing to open up to you.

"I'm gonna go to the spa for a bit." She sighs, pushing her empty glass away from her. She thinks for a moment, then decides to take a chance. "Can I ask you to do something for me, though? Woman to woman?"

"Oh?" You perk up, a little surprised but willing to hear her out. "Sure, what is it?"

"Just, please tell me if he flirts with anyone again? If you see something, tell me. Fairytale Suites are next week, and I just don't have the time or patience to deal with anymore bullshit."

"Oh, of course." You nod profusely. "Absolutely. I'll keep my eyes open, girl. Don't worry."

MJ gives you a hint of a smile. "Thanks, girl. Good luck to you..." And leaves for the spa.

After she leaves, you sprint down towards the beach with your freshly poured cup of tea.

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"Jesus..." Your audience of Felicia, Ben, and Miguel sit with the news you just unloaded on them, puzzled but not surprised at the revelation of George and MJ's trouble in Paradise.

Miguel leans back on his towel. "I called it honestly. George has a wandering eye, we've known this ever since he was on Rio's season."

"It's a bunch of drama." Ben shakes his head. "I don't wanna see you, or you." He nods in your direction. "Get in another scrap like last night. Let's just chill, and end this last week or so that we've got on a good note."

"Amen." Miguel sits up, stretching.

"What are your guys' plans for tonight?" Felicia asks.

"Um..." You look up at Miguel. "Well, I'd like to just relax for a bit. You and I can hang out here for a bit, then Jason said the group is going clubbing tonight. Wanna meet at the common area for dinner at, say 5 ish?"

"Sounds good to me." Miguel nods, then looks at Ben. "You down to go golfing?"

Ben wraps his towel around his neck. "I'm down. Let's go," before he gives a goodbye to Felicia.

"Call me if you need anything. And stay out of trouble." Miguel gives you a playful smile and a grip to your thigh, then walks off with Ben towards the resort.

Some time later, you're fully zoned out, both you and Felicia laying out like two iguanas in your element, when she sits up with a gasp. "Dude...look."

You groggily sit up, then the sight in front of you delivers you immediately to full consciousness.

George is standing ankle deep in the water some distance away, chatting it up with Christine, the short, curvy, blonde surf instructor. He's laughing, looking like he's having the time of his life as she occasionally reaches out, touching his arm and chest as she speaks to him.

"Are you seeing this?!"

"Girl, I am definitely seeing this."

He leans in a little closer putting his hand on the small of her back, dangerously close to her ass.

"What...a...little....bitch...George Stacy...you...slimy dog you...." Felicia shakes her head.

The couple turn towards you and both you and Felicia immediately turn into mummies, laying back on your towels, holding your breaths, pretending like you weren't just honed in on the crime taking place, before George gives her a nervous nod and smile and walks away.

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Later that night, you and Felicia are all dolled up as queens of the night, wearing tight fitting cocktail dresses, showcasing both of your deadly curves and that carefree twinkle of paradise vacation on your skin making you both look even more alluring than you normally do, leaving Ben and Miguel with hearts in their eyes and warmth pooling in their chests.

You're all dancing at an outdoor bar, local music pounding your eardrums, margarita number three working its disarming magic in your veins, twirling and holding your hair in a sexy display of feminity on the dancefloor with Ben and Miguel close by. Peter B. sulking in the corner.

You bite your lip as you watch Miguel snap his fingers and move his hips with a smirk on his face, a little far off memory coming back to you of the night you shared together in a hotel room when you experienced those bewitching movements firsthand underneath him.

Your thong under your tight dress gets a little wet as your eyes rake across his figure, letting them linger on every faint line of muscle accentuated under entrancing disco lights, and the opening in his black button up shirt, with his chiseled chest on display. You spin around, letting your body press up against his a little longer than it should.

Miguel utterly groans, switching his glass to his left hand as he touches you with his right, continuing to move to the beat. You lay your head back against him and your pretty lips fall open as you feel his ring lightly graze your tits until his hand hugs low on your stomach, gently guiding and pressing your body to synchronize with his hips as his full lips brush against your ear, making your eyelashes flutter.

But, the song ends and you open your eyes, temporarily snapped out of your horny fantasy as the crowd claps and cheers, begging the DJ for one more song. Miguel joins in the applause, setting down his glass for a moment and giving you a bashful smile as though to apologize for letting himself get carried away as the new song starts.

The sight of an angry MJ pushing past people in the club makes itself known in your peripheral vision.

You grab Felicia, yelling "Look!" over the deafening noise of the crowd as you both watch her angrily leave and hail a taxi in tears.

"It's George." Felicia mouths to you.

"Where is he?" You try and communicate back.

"Let's go."

You and Felicia signal to Miguel and Ben that you're gonna "go to the bathroom". Miguel nods but hardly acknowledges, holding his sides and wheezing in a fit of laughter as he watches Ben valiantly face off with an older woman in a dance battle.

The scene you were expecting to find when you see George is even more juicy than you could have imagined. He has an entourage of four women grinding on him with his shirt unbuttoned, his face red and sweaty with the unmistakeable flush of intoxication, sipping a beer from a bottle as he watches a brunette in front of him bend over and shake her ass directly over his cock. He bites his lip and puts both hands on her ass, beckoning for her to turn around.

The camera zooms in as yours and Felicia's jaws damn near hit the floor when he starts sloppily kissing her, only for her drunk friend to start joining in in a three way nasty drunken makeout sesh.

It's a damn shame none of you are allowed to have your cell phones right now.

After the nasty kissing subsides, you notice him stand up, holding a new mystery woman with curly hair's hand and what appears to be a small piece of paper being slipped into his fingers as she whispers in his ear and he bites his lip.

You both have seen quite enough, darting back to Miguel and Ben in a fit of sweaty bodies as the night at the club wanes on.

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Back at the resort, it's getting close to truth telling time. You and Felicia and James sit together in a somber meeting at the infamous bar which is soon to become the second most popular location for tea spilling once the dreaded truth box hits the fan.

You and Felicia are not quite at the level of sobriety you probably should be before you make this decision.

"She needs to know."

James nods in agreement, pushing the box towards you. "Let it all out."

"I feel bad about doing it anonymously though, like what if she finds out it was us? Or what if George finds out?" You shiver a little at the thought.

"Dude, MJ hates me." Felicia whispers. "I know you think she's chill, but trust me, she's not as reasonable as you think she is. She is crazier than me. And that's saying a lot."

You raise your eyebrows at the last statement.

"I'm serious! When Peter tried to hit on me after they broke up, no joke, all I did was send her a screenshot with 'hey girl, I'm coming to you as a woman right now, just wanted to let you know your man was in my inbox' and you wanna know what this girl did? She sends me a SEVEN MINUTE LONG voice note. Absolutely bitching me out about what a hoe I am, and how could you do this to me, you know what he and I have been through together, as one of the girls who was also on the show I would've expected you to be more considerate of my feelings and blah blah blah. I'm telling you dude. It's better this way."

You blow a long steam of air out of your cheeks. "Okay, okay, you know what? You're my bestie, I'll take your word for it. Let's just do this."

You take the pen in your hand, starting to draft the wretched confession. "Dear.....MJ..." you lick your lips in concentration.

"Today....at the beach, when you left upset, George put his hand on the surf instructor's ass. He was flirting with her and she was touching his arm and chest while they were talking...."

"Mhmm...okay go on." Felicia twirls a strand of hair in deep thought as you continue writing.

"When you left crying at the club, George made out with two girls. He was also dancing and grinding with multiple mystery women. He also held a girl's hand and took down her number."

"Yep." Felicia nods. "It's harsh but it's the truth."

"Ben and Miguel know." You bite your lip. "Should we add in here that multiple people know so it doesn't look like it's coming from us?"

"Yeah..." Felicia thinks for a moment then nods.

"Multiple.... people on this beach know. Therefore, you should know the truth. There, boom."

You and Felicia examine the note over and over, muttering silently as you reread it before you slip it in the box.

"It's done."

You both look at each other and clink your glasses together, your confession stowed away in what's surely going to turn into Pandora's box in just a few hours. Savoring a few seconds of quiet with your bestie before all hell breaks loose.

Jason Donner speaks in a voiceover: “Find out what happens next week in another drama packed episode of Singles in Paradise!”

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teencopandthesourwolf · 2 months

Text

“Please.”

Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.

Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.

“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”

Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.

Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.

His messages had read:

> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?

And:

> ill let myself in if thats cool?

And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:

> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed

> all shall be revealed

> lol i don't know why i put that

> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?

> as if you wouldn't lol

> #sourwolf

> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me

And then, a few seconds later:

> right?

Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:

Okay, weirdo <

About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.

“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're close enough now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope we are. I'm just so fucking tired, man, and have got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”

Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.

When the steel door had unlocked and slid open, Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension—and also, the strongest of them all; hope.

Let me.

Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.

Let him what?

Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.

Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.

He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.

“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”

And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.

“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.

And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.

Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.

“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.

Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something like relief.

Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.

The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”

Then he promptly stops breathing.

Derek resists the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?

He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.

Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.

As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also, wonderfully, of Derek, now.

Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing, all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”

Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.

Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.

Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.

for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)

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number1mingyustan · 7 months

Text

Mad Love ☾

boyfriend!hoshi x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, established relationship, drunk sex, mirror sex, fingering (f.), marking, choking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, pwp

Summary: His girl, his Harley, his everything and so much more

Word Count: 2k

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(a/n: i’m really trying to be active y’all 😞 i hate that i can’t post as much)

Your boyfriend has spent the past nearly 10 minutes looking for you. The house is crowded with people and he’s entirely too drunk to distinguish you from the other girls crowding the space.

He’s stumbling around looking for your pigtails but to no avail. He’s getting frustrated and he knows there’s no point in trying to call you because of how loud it is.

He’s not even entirely sure when the two of you got separated either. You walked inside hand in hand and he remembers downing shots with you in the living room. Everything after that is a bit of a blur.

He pushes past a group of people and spots a familiar pair of pigtails standing in front of him. A smile spreads widely across his face and he approaches you enthusiastically.

His Harley.

He calls out to you when he’s close enough for you to hear him. You turn around, returning his smile with a drunk grin.

“Soonyoung!” You call out. “I missed you baby.”

You open your arms, reaching out to him and falling into his arms. He barely manages to catch you, stumbling over himself a bit as he tries to support both of your weights.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” he slurs. He’s so loud in your ear, competing against the music blasting in the house.

“I told you I was gonna be right here. I asked you if you wanted to dance and you told me no, so I told you I was gonna come in here and dance with my friends."

The conversation sounds vaguely familiar now that you're mentioning it.

"Sorry, I forgot," he mumbles, pulling your body closer to his. His hands are on your waist securely. You lean into his touch easily.

You stare up at him with half lidded and lust filled eyes. "Soonyoung..."

"Yeah pretty girl?" He licks his lips.

"I really meant it when I said I missed you," You whisper, just loud enough for him to hear you.

"Was only gone for like 20 minutes," He mumbles. His fingers play with the hem of your shorts.

He stumbles a bit, lazily leaning his body closer against yours. You hold him, cupping his cheek with your hand softly.

“Missed you so much,” You whisper into his ear.

His hands grip your waist and he pulls you impossibly closer. Your bodies are pressed filmy again one another and there’s no space separating you.

But close doesn’t feel close enough.

You press your chest against his, smirking when his eyes drop down to your breasts. He can’t help it, the costume you’re wearing has them practically on full display.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body and it makes you want to be even closer to him. You want to feel him, all of him.

“Soonyoung,” You whisper.

“Yeah baby?” His hazy eyes meet yours.

“Can we go?”

You hardly have time to finish your question before he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd. He holds your hand firmly, ensuring not to lose sight of you again as he navigates the crowd.

He pulls you behind him, leading you toward the bathroom. The doors opens and he presses you up against the sink before kicking to door closed with his foot.

Your back meets the sink and his lips are on yours in record time. The kiss is sloppy and messy due to a mix of your drunkness and eagerness for one another.

He slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening and intensifying the kiss as his hands desperately roam your body. He’s squeezing and rubbing at every inch of your skin he can grasp, desperate to feel you in any way he can.

You break the kiss momentarily, breathing heavily and allowing your eyes to open. Soonyoung leans into again, attempting to kiss you but you pull back slightly. He frowns and opens his eyes.

“The door,” You breathe out.

“What?” Soonyoung turns his head to the closed bathroom door.

“Lock it, don’t want any interruptions.”

He groans, pulling away from you to lock the bathroom door. His hands are on you again in no time.

His lips attach to your neck, sucking until he sees the bruises form on your skin. He dips his have into the waistband of your shorts.

You tilt your head back, leaning further back against the sink. His head his still buried in the crook of your neck as his fingers slip past your panties.

You let out a soft moan when his fingers start circling your clit.

“Shit,” You whisper.

Soonyoung is anything but slow in his movements. He swiftly pulls your shorts and underwear down to your knees before pressing his thumb against your clit.

You’re already dripping, arousal lubricating his fingers and making it easy to slip inside of you. You pull him by his hair harshly, tangling your fingers into his green stained strands.

He slips his middle and ring fingers into you with ease, pumping quickly to have you mewling his name pathetically. He curls his fingers inside of you perfectly and his pace never falters.

Everything is so sloppy and filthy. The wet squelches of his fingers pumping into you echo inside of the cramped bathroom.

Your head is tilted back and your mouth agape as he skillfully pleasures you with his fingers. You can’t help but be loud, moaning and crying his name like a chant.

You’re chasing your high, pushing your hips into his fingers as he fucks them into you. You’re still holding him closely as you use his fingers to get you off.

A loud knock on the door suddenly startles you both, however your boyfriend is determined to make you squirt on his fingers and he’s not going to let anything distract him from doing so.

“Fuck off!” He slurs, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper, legs feeling weak from the stimulation.

The knock turns into a bang on the door and Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “People have to use the bathroom you know!” The person calls from the other side of the door.

He pulls away from you slightly, eyes glued down to where you and his fingers meet. He uses his free hand to draw quick circles on your clit as he continues pumping his fingers into you.

“That’s why I’m fucking using it!” He slurs, shouting back at the angry person on the other side of the door.

You’re falling apart moments later. Your body is overtaken by pleasure and you cum all over his fingers. It’s messy, but he doesn’t let up. He fingers your through it, only retracting his fingers enough to let you squirt all over him.

Your legs are tingling and your ears are ringing as your orgasm courses through your body. He’s thorough in fucking your through it, completely withdrawing his fingers once you’ve come down from the intense orgasm.

“Asshole,” he mumbles.

The knocking on the door has finally ceased and your head feels a lot clearer now that you’re coming down from your high.

Soonyoung looks down at the mess you’ve made and licks his lips slowly. “You good?”

Instead of providing him with a verbal response, you simply pull him in by the belt hanging on his waist. He looks so fucking good right now.

His costume is simple, yet effective. A pair of ripped black jeans and a belt. A long sleeve purple button up that he made no attempt to actually button. His chest is decorated in temporary tattoos with a green tie hanging loosely.

You begin undoing his belt wordlessly before dropping his pants to his ankles. You’re practically drooling at the sight of his hard cock in his underwear.

“Want more.” You tell him.

“Yeah?” he smirks.

You nod, pulling his underwear down and exposing his hard, leaking cock. A shiver courses through your body at the mere thought of getting fucked.

He doesn’t give you much time to fantasize because he immediately grips your waist, turning your around and pressing you against the bathroom sink.

You can’t see it, but you feel the weight of his cock dragging against your ass, sliding down and teasing against your hole before he pushes in with no warning.

His hips meet your ass as his hand travels up your throat and squeezes just enough to have your eyes rolling back. His eyes shift from where the two of you meet to the mirror reflecting the filthy scene.

He uses his other hand to snake around your front, pulling your top down and fully exposing your breasts. He watches you in the mirror, eyes trained on the way your face contorts with pleasure as he fucks you from behind.

Your back is arched perfectly and as much as he wants to snap a picture, the reflection in the mirror will have to do for now.

“Watch,” he tells you.

Your eyes are screwed shut and your mind is hazy once again.

“H-huh?”

He uses the hand around your throat to tilt your head down, forcing you to look at the reflection in front of you. Your legs nearly give out at the sight in front of you.

“Watch.” he demands.

You can’t think straight. The feeling of him drilling into you was already intense enough. Watching yourself get fucked as he looks at you with lust and determination from behind takes things to and entirely new level.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you through the mirror. Your legs feel like jello and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure.

“F-Fuck Soonyoung, I can’t. ‘M gonna cum again,” you cry out.

It’s so intense. Something about the alcohol coursing through your veins has made you call the more sensitive. His cock is ramming into you at an inhuman pace and your body is struggling to keep up yet you’re craving for more.

A breath gets caught in your throat and you feel weak in the knees.

“Close—‘m close baby,” He groans. His grip on your waist and the counter tightening, and you feel his nails digging into your skin. He leans over, chest meeting your back as he drills into you deeper from behind. A particularly hard thrust makes you whimper out his name so defeatedly it tips him right over the edge. “Oh fuck—shit, where do I cum? Tell me, tell me, ah.”

“Inside.” You rasp out. “Inside please.”

He’s the one forgetting how to breathe now. A breath gets caught in his throat and a few more erratic thrusts had him pumping his hot release into you. His hips come to a complete stop and you feel him painting your inner walls white.

He breathes out. “Shit.”

He leans his back against the wall and you hold onto the sink for support. You're both breathing heavily, minds hazy and bodies overwhelmed as you slowly tap back into your five senses.

He pulls out of you slowly, watching your releases drip from your spent hole. You cringe at the feeling of yourself leaking.

He’s quick to plug you back up, fingers gathering the substance from your thighs and pushing it back into your sensitive hole. Your body jerks from overstimulation, but he holds you still and pushes his fingers deep inside of you.

You whine, fighting against him but his grip is too strong. He holds you still, pushing his cum further inside of you. You’re so sensitive, the stimulation is bringing you to tears.

It’s pathetic how much you’re writhing against him right now. Once satisfied, he withdraws his fingers and sucks on them before turning you back around.

His eyes meet your teary ones. He strokes your cheek and kisses your tears away. “Sorry baby, can’t let anything go to waste. You understand right?”

You nod slowly, leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips.

“It wasn’t too much for you, was it?” He asks, voice laced with genuinity.

You shake your head slowly. ‘“M okay.”

He licks his lips against slowly and nods. “Okay baby, let’s get you home then yeah? We can turn on a scary movie and cuddle until we fall asleep. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” You smile. “Sounds good.”

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#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen drabbles #hoshi svt #svt hoshi #kwon hoshi #hoshi x reader #hoshi smut #hoshi kwon #seventeen hoshi #hoshi fanfic #hoshi seventeen #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #kpop

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punkshort · 4 months

Text

look what we've become - ch.8

Chapter Summary: Your POV from captivity. You learn some interesting information about the Fireflies and run into an unexpected person from your past.

Chapter Warnings: language, graphic depictions of violence, blood, torture, one teeny tiny 'daddy' reference (couldn't help myself, more of a nod to the fandom than anything), infected, reader gets roughed up, description of injuries and pain

WC: 4.7K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"You said take the girl, so I took the girl!"

"I meant the fucking kid, not her!"

You stifled a groan, your eyes still shut tight, unable to handle the brightness from the overhead lighting. Your head was spinning, and if you moved too much, your stomach heaved, so you laid as still as possible, hoping and praying whatever was going to happen would happen quickly.

The smell didn't help, either. You had no idea where you were, but your cheek was pressed up against a cool, tile floor and the entire room smelled like rot. You heard a muffled, rhythmic thumping against a wall in the corner of the room. It felt damp and humid, like maybe you were in a cabin or a basement. And you definitely were not alone. Once you woke from whatever drug they had slipped into your neck, you did your best to still appear asleep, hoping that maybe you could find out some helpful information while your captors still thought you couldn't hear them.

The two voices continued to argue - a man and a woman - about the mix-up. Ellie. They were after Ellie, not you. That frightened you even more.

How long has it been since you've been taken? Hours? A day?

Joel would have made them leave. He wouldn't have kept her there after he realized what happened. If not to protect her, he would have moved to try to find you. As much as you didn't want him to come looking for you, to put Ellie in harm's way, you knew he would. You had no idea how many people were part of this group that took you, but it was definitely too many for Joel to handle on his own. And he wouldn't waste time going back to Jackson for help.

You needed to get out of there before Joel got himself killed trying to find you.

The voices continued to talk, the volume increasing, the words becoming clearer. They were getting closer to where you were tied up on the floor. Why did the one voice sound vaguely familiar? Did you know these people?

"We sent another crew out to fix your fuck up," the woman said, her shoes squeaking on the tile. "You better hope they find her, or it's your ass."

"Yes, ma'am," the man's voice said weakly.

"I know you're awake," the woman's voice said icily. Part of you wanted to remain still and call her bluff, but her boot was too close to your already tender head, and you didn't want to risk another hit. You allowed one eye to crack open, the light like an icepick in your brain. You brought your hands up to shield your eyes as you struggled to sit upright with your wrists and ankles tied together.

When you finally sat up, you leaned your head back with a sigh, trying to get your bearings and calm your churning stomach before forcing both eyes open to look at your captor for the first time.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you croaked, surprised at how rough your own voice sounded.

Amy laughed and jumped up on a gurney behind her, swinging her legs back and forth over the edge, the motion making you nauseous the longer you watched.

Amy. Joel's ex-fiancée and the woman who helped lead the group of animals who took you both in long before you found Jackson, under the guise of it being a safe community but failing to mention that community ran on a very primitive form of currency.

"Yeah, thought you'd be happy to see me," she said with a chuckle, flicking her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Elated," you said dryly, sliding your eyes back closed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't exactly thrilled to see you, either."

"That does make me feel better, thank you," you snapped, opening your eyes again to glare at her.

"You do realize I hold the key to your release, right? Maybe treat me with a little respect," Amy said, the fake smile slipping from her face.

"You and I both know I'm not getting out of here," you replied, but she shook her head.

"Not necessarily. If we can't find the girl, you're our contingency plan."

You narrowed your eyes, the rage beginning to burn deep in your chest. Knowing you would regret it, you asked the question anyway.

"What do you mean?"

Amy smirked as she slid down from the gurney and bent down to look you in the eye.

"What I mean is, he would do anything to get you back. Including giving up the kid."

Something in you snapped. You lunged forward, swinging your head and smashing it directly into her nose. You heard the distinctive crunch right as the blood began to pour out of both nostrils. She stumbled back in shock, clutching her face while she howled in pain. Even though your head felt like it was splitting in two, you grinned. Worth it.

Once the pain subsided, she dropped her hands, her face smeared with dark red blood, her nose turning purple and swollen, clearly broken.

"You fucking bitch," she muttered. She took one step forward and swung her leg back, the toe of her boot coming in direct contact with your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to make a single noise indicating you were in any pain, not giving her the satisfaction. But the blood that was pooling in your mouth told a different story.

Amy laughed as she watched you spit blood on the tile next to you.

"You're gonna regret that," she said, walking backwards towards the door. "Your people really had us chasing you all over the goddamn place, even lost a few friends. I got some guys outside who would love to break a few of your bones for all that."

As the door slammed shut, you finally allowed yourself to take a shaky breath in and look around. Even though you were alone, you still heard the thumping coming from the corner of the room. You leaned forward, trying to see what was causing the noise, but all you saw was a small room with a stainless steel door sealed shut. There were gurneys everywhere, some of them broken, some not. Between you and the door there were six flat, stainless steel tables in front of what looked like refrigerators. Chancing a look up at the lights, you noticed some appeared to be the type you might see in a dentist's office or an operating room. Then it dawned on you.

You were in a morgue.

You couldn't be sure how much time had passed. You lost consciousness a few times. Amy wasn't kidding. The men she employed were pissed, and they took it out on you with every punch and kick. Each time you woke up, you felt a new pain somewhere in your body. A new broken bone or a new cut. Eventually, Amy returned, and even in your wrecked state, you still found a sliver of pleasure seeing her nose taped up and the dark bruise blooming under each of her eyes.

"Had enough yet?" she asked with a smirk. You snarled in response and spit more blood on the ground.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to tell me where Joel and the girl are," she said, holding her hands out to her sides like it was obvious.

"I have no idea," you said truthfully, struggling to sit up.

"Okay, why don't you tell me where home is, and we can start there?" she offered, and you laughed.

"You should just go ahead and kill me if that's what you want," you told her, glaring at her with one eye, the other swollen shut already.

"Don't think we won't," she said, tilting her head to the side as she regarded you silently for a moment, her thoughts clearly drifting to something else.

"What?" you asked her through gritted teeth.

"Don't you think he's a little old for you?" she finally asked, her eyes raking up and down your body. You knew it would always boil down to this. You knew she could never see past your relationship with Joel. What he was willing to do for you, what he has done for you, what she lost and would never have.

"What, do you have daddy issues or something?" she asked with a scoff.

You smirked as more blood trickled down your chin, the cut on your lip refusing to heal.

"Sometimes he likes it when I call him daddy, if that's what you mean," you told her. The face she made was worth the kick to the head. You giggled and coughed, the pain and the smell and the insanity of everything happening finally hitting home.

"He's gonna kill you, you know," you said with a grin, leaning up against the cool tile wall. "Even if you kill me. Especially if you kill me, he will find you, and he will kill you."

Amy was smirking at you, but you saw the look in her eye. It was fast, but you caught it. She knew you were right.

"We'll see," she said, backing up so she could lift herself up on one of the stainless steel tables. She watched you for a moment, blood trickling out of every wound, bruises deepening in color with each passing minute. You were pretty sure your arm and a couple ribs were broken and you most definitely had a concussion, but you refused to show any weakness. You glared at her from your spot on the ground, waiting for whatever was going to happen next.

"Do you know what we do here?" she asked you. The question took you off guard.

"Other than torture people? No."

She laughed at that.

"We're trying to make a fucking vaccine," she told you, like she expected you to be grateful. You already figured that much out, but you didn't say so.

"How's that going for you?" you asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It would be a lot fucking better if we had that goddamn girl," she told you. Her emotions were getting the best of her. You could hear it with every word, and it put you even more at ease. They were desperate.

"Oh, yeah?" you said. "That's a shame."

"Do you have any idea how many people sacrificed themselves for this cause?" she asked, her brows furrowed. You shrugged.

"Enlighten me."

"Countless," she said, jutting her chin towards the room in the corner. You looked over at the closed door. The thumping was fainter when you were alone, but now that Amy was talking, the noise started up again.

"There's a lot of people who are immune, you know," she began, and you felt your muscles tense. "So many of them gave their lives to help us find a cure. We are so close. Our doctor just needs one more, and that kid is the answer." You began to put the pieces together, and the noise in the corner was starting to make sense. You felt your stomach roll.

"Sounds like a really shitty doctor if they let so many people die," you told her, and she scoffed.

"He's brilliant. You have no idea how difficult it is to extract DNA in this type of setting, and - I don't even know why I'm bothering," she said, shaking her head. "The point is, that girl could save us all."

"You said it yourself. There's a lot of people who are immune," you mumbled. You could feel yourself fading but you fought to stay awake. "Find someone else."

"Fuck that," she said, jumping down from the table and crouching in front of you. "Where is she?"

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you," you whispered, your good eye sliding shut.

"Don't you dare pass out!" she shrieked, slapping you across the face. The adrenaline perked you up for a few seconds, but the blood loss ultimately won, and you slipped back into darkness.

You woke up to the sound of gunfire coming from the floors above you. The noise was faint, but it was distinctive. Pop, pop, pop. How long were you out for this time? Was it nighttime? There were no windows, you had no semblance of time other than the hunger that gnawed at your insides as more hours passed without food or water.

You blinked and looked around, confirming you were still alone before trying to sit up. The blood loss was too much, your head was pounding, and your side felt like you had been hit by a bus. Slumping back down, you took a few deep breaths before trying again. The gunshots were getting closer, and your adrenaline was spiking, giving you the little boost you needed to force yourself up. You looked down, trying to assess the damage to your body. Your upper thigh had a big, weeping gash, probably the culprit for the majority of your blood loss. Your one eye was still swollen but you could crack it open just a bit now if you really had to. Your cheekbone felt like it might be broken, and a few ribs were definitely broken, but at least your knees and ankles were good. If you could cut the ties, you could run. Or stumble.

As the gunfire got closer, the thumping against the door in the corner of the room got louder. There was no doubt in your mind at this point that they kept infected in there, and you just hoped you weren't still tied up if they got out.

Your brain was foggy, you were having a hard time staying focused, but the panic began to set in. Why was there gunfire? What was happening? Then a hazy thought drifted by in the back of your mind. Joel?

There was no way he could have found you this fast. He wouldn't have put the pieces together. You barely could keep up with what was happening. But then the door handle jiggled and a small form snuck into the room quietly and you thought you must have been dying. Surely, you were hallucinating, your brain short circuiting as it began to shut down, because there was no possible way Ellie was actually crouching in front of you, repeating your name urgently as she tugged on your restraints to no avail.

"Shit, hold on," you heard her mutter, setting the familiar looking hunting rifle on the floor next to her so she could fish her switchblade out of her pocket. Yes, you were most definitely hallucinating. Joel wouldn't have given her his rifle. Unless...

"Is he dead?" you rasped, finally finding your voice. Ellie paused with her switchblade hovering over your ankles and frowned at you.

"Joel? No," she said, shaking her head as she began to saw on the restraints, freeing your legs and then moving to your wrists.

"What's..." you tried again, but you could feel yourself fading and all you could hear was that fucking thumping in the corner of the room and the gunfire down the hall.

"We're getting you out of here," she said, tucking her shoulder underneath your arm and hoisting you up with a grunt. You muffled a cry at the pain shooting down your side, blood gushing down your leg again now that you were moving.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered, leading you over to a gurney so you could steady yourself before she dug into her pack for an old shirt. She bent down and wrapped it around your thigh as tight as she could, wincing as she double knotted it before she stood back up.

"Can you move?" she asked, her eyes wide with panic. You nodded, but you weren't sure. If Ellie had the rifle, where was Joel?

As if an answer to your question, Joel burst into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, frantically looking around before pulling a table over to barricade it. You must have looked worse than you thought because when he finally turned around to look at you for the first time, his face crumpled for a moment before he quickly collected himself and rushed over.

"What'd they do to you?" he murmured in your ear as his arms came up to wrap around your middle. You winced and leaned back, your hand coming up to your ribs to tenderly cover the spot he just squeezed.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes raking down your body, trying to take stock of your injuries.

"It's okay," you said. His eyes flicked to the corner of the room where the noise was reaching a fever pitch.

"Oh, shit," Ellie muttered, her attention also pulled to the locked door.

"We gotta get you outta here," Joel said, seemingly making the connection much quicker than you did. "Can you walk?"

"I think so, but I can't go fast," you said, bending over and holding yourself up with your arms braced on the gurney. For the first time, you noticed the blood. He was covered in it. Splashed up his jeans and boots and all over his hands, some even sprayed on his neck.

"That's fine," he said as he began to push the table away from the door. The noises from the locked room got even louder as the table legs screeching on the tile floor.

"There's too many of them, Joel. We can't-"

"Yeah, we can," he said, cutting you off. He was turning to look at you, still in disbelief while he opened the door, not paying attention as someone pushed their way in, knocking him to the ground with the stock of a rifle.

He fell with a groan, his hands coming up to clutch the side of his face as Amy quickly locked the door behind her. She aimed her rifle at Joel's chest, and he dropped his hands to the side, staring up at her like he was seeing a ghost.

"What the fuck?" he whispered, and she smirked.

"Nice to see you, too, baby," she snarled, her nose still taped and her eyes still black.

"Who's she?" Ellie asked under her breath at your side, but you just shook your head. Amy glanced up and let out a shaky laugh when she saw Ellie.

"After everything you did, Joel, you still lost," she said. You looked between them, confused and barely holding onto consciousness. What did that mean?

"What the hell happened to you?" Joel asked her, his voice laced in disgust.

"I got with the fucking program, Joel! That's what!" she yelled at him before taking a step back, the rifle still aimed at his chest.

The door handle began to rattle violently with all the yelling. You could see it being pushed open a crack from the other side, then hands wrapping around the edge of the door until the lock broke and it finally swung open.

Joel scrambled to his feet and grabbed his revolver from his side while Ellie shouldered the hunting rifle as infected came pouring out, their screams making you wince.

Gunshots rang out, a few infected fell, but Amy's gun jammed and a runner knocked her down. She rolled off to the side and kicked it in the chest, sending it flying backwards right into Ellie, the gun falling from her hands.

You picked up Joel's rifle as quickly as you could in your weakened state, but right as you took aim at the infected's head, you watched its teeth clamp down around her arm. You both screamed, Ellie in pain, you in fear as you lodged a bullet right into the back of the runner's skull, its body falling limply to the side. You dropped the gun to the ground, too exhausted and weak to hold it anymore. Ellie scrambled up and swiped frantically at her arm, watching as the blood trickled out.

"Are you okay?" you asked, reaching out to her. She nodded and looked up at you, her eyes suddenly going wide.

"Look out!"

You ducked just in time to avoid getting hit in the back of the skull with Amy's rifle. She fell forward on her hands and knees, then scrambled to grab Ellie's ankle, yanking her down and pulling her against her chest.

You vaguely heard Joel's gun still firing behind you, taking down infected, when you watched Amy's arm wrap around Ellie's throat, her face going red while she gasped for air. You didn't even think, you just reacted. Ignoring the pain, you surged forward and pounced on top of her, yanking her arm off of Ellie's neck with every ounce of strength you had. Ellie rolled to the side, kneeling and coughing with her hand gingerly touching her red skin while your fingers gripped Amy's neck. She clawed at your hands, panic filling her eyes as she looked up at you helplessly. You put all your weight into it, squeezing with all your might and praying you didn't pass out before ending this once and for all.

In one last ditch effort, Amy dug her thumb deep into your wounded thigh, making you cry out and loosen your grip. She tossed you off of her and you collapsed next to Ellie with a loud thud. Forcing herself to her feet, Ellie stood over you protectively, her switchblade held shakily in her hand as blood trickled slowly down her arm and dripped onto the tile floor next to your head.

The room finally seemed quieter. You chanced a look towards Joel. He was standing on the other side of the room, surrounded by dead infected and panting for air. When he turned to the three of you, you finally noticed the huge gash on the side of his head from where Amy hit him. His blood dripped down his neck and below his collar, his shirt absorbing the dark red drops.

Amy grabbed the rifle you abandoned and swung around, aiming it at the pair of you as she walked backwards. Joel kept his revolver trained on her as he slowly made his way over to your side of the room.

"You just ruined all our chances at having a fucking life again, Joel," Amy seethed, her eyes boring into his.

"Should've thought about that before you took what's mine," he grumbled angrily, standing next to you now. You curled into a ball on the floor, the pain too much to handle.

"If you'd have just brought us the girl in the fucking first place, none of this would have happened and we wouldn't have touched her," Amy retorted, jutting her chin in your direction.

"The hell's so special about the kid?" Joel asked, but before she could answer, a telltale click, click, click echoed in the room, and you all froze. Your one good eye popped open as you watched a clicker stumble from the room in the corner, snapping its teeth and swiping mindlessly at the empty space in front of it.

Joel glanced down at your state, knowing he wouldn't be able to pick you up and get out of there in time. Ellie gripped her knife tightly as she watched the clicker get further into the room.

You could see the look in Amy's eye. She was glancing around frantically, trying to figure out a way to use this to her advantage. But lucky for you all, you thought of it first.

Carefully, you reached out in front of you, your fingers picking up the bullet casing on the floor from when you shot the runner. Before you had time to overthink it, you tossed the casing to the other side of the room, the metal clinking right between her feet.

The clicker turned towards her and shrieked, its arms flailing wildly. Amy panicked and backed up, but her sneakers squeaked on the tile and that was all the clicker needed. You watched as its hands gripped her shoulders to hold her steady while its mouth ripped violently into her neck. Blood gushed everywhere, puddling on the floor and causing her to lose her footing. Her screams reverberated in the room. You covered your ears, trying to muffle the sound until her screaming eventually stopped.

While the clicker was still distracted, Joel snuck up quietly behind it and lodged a bullet in its head, and the room finally filled with silence again.

Joel turned around as Ellie was helping you back on your feet. He noticed the blood dripping down her arm and his body stiffened.

"You were bit," he said, staring at the blood seeping through her shirt. Ellie looked down at it and then looked back up at him, shaking her head and backing away slowly.

"N-no, it's fine, really-"

Joel held up his gun, pain flickering across his face.

"Joel, don't," you said, but he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. She's bit, we can't-"

"Put the gun down, Joel, and listen to me," you told him, taking a few shaky steps to the side so you stood between him and Ellie.

His arm immediately dropped when you blocked his shot, and he looked at you with despair in his eyes.

"There's nothin' we can do, I'm sorry kid, but -"

"She's immune, Joel!" you yelled, cutting him off again. He froze, stunned, as his eyes flicked back and forth between yours and Ellie's.

"What?" he finally whispered.

"It's true," Ellie said from behind you, then she pulled up her sleeve and showed him her old bite. "Got it a couple months ago. See? It's all healed."

Joel stumbled back a bit, catching himself on the edge of a table as he tried to follow what was happening.

"Wh- how?"

"I don't know, some people just... are," she said, her gaze dropping to the floor.

"It's why they wanted her so badly. They were trying to use her as a guinea pig to make a vaccine," you added.

"You knew?" Joel asked, looking at you with hurt in his eyes. You nodded, your lip trembling.

"Listen, I would love to tell you everything I know, but can we do it in the fucking car?" Ellie asked, growing impatient. You could tell Joel was still struggling with this new revelation, but he knew you were in desperate need of medical care.

"You so much as twitch -" Joel said, storming over to her now and letting himself trail off.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Can we go now?"

If you weren't in so much pain, you might have laughed at how cavalier she was about the whole thing.

Joel found a beat up looking wheelchair and helped you into it. He instructed Ellie to push you while he led the way down the hall. He picked up an assault rifle from one of the dead bodies as he made his way to the elevator. You glanced around at the carnage as you waited for the doors to open, then looked up at him by your side.

"Did you do all of this alone?"

He looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your one open eye for a moment before nodding curtly. As you filed onto the elevator, you tried to examine him for any injuries, but aside from the hit to his head and a few minor scratches and bruises to his knuckles, he appeared fine.

The doors opened up on the main level and you gasped. If you thought the basement level was bad, it was nothing compared to the main level. Ellie pushed your wheelchair through the blood on the floor, her footsteps and the wheels leaving imprints as you went. Joel went up ahead to push some bodies out of the way and make a clear path for you to get to the front door.

"Truck's right out front," he said.

"Joel, how did you... do this?" you asked, still hardly believing what you were seeing.

"What'dya mean?" he asked, his hand on the front door, ready to push it open. You looked up at him and swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to comprehend what you were seeing. He let his hand drop to his side so he could kneel in front of you and pinch your chin between his fingers, giving you a gentle kiss.

"I did what I had to do to get you back."

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vampcubus · 1 year

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Hi, I really like your writing (especially your Rengoku headcanons.) Also, your page looks so aesthetically pleasing, I think it's really cool.

Can I request some headcanons for Tokoyami with a s/o who's love language is biting? (It can be fluff or smut or both, it's your choice)

If you don't want to write this, that's okay too, have a nice day!

sure can! and thank you sm for the compliments, got me blushin’ n shit 😳 i also decided to tack on more characters for this prompt!

𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : fumikage, izuku, katsuki, and eijirou.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : vaguely nsfw, projecting my biting kink onto all these men tbh.

𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐈

— Fumikage’s probably the most startled by your love bites for sure. He’s still getting used to your kisses, so you can bet he’s jumping a mile into the air when he feels you sneak a nip to his shoulder. He’s so flustered, beak tipped down to his chest in embarrassment. What was that for? Were you teasing him? An intrusive thought perhaps?

— When you explain it to him, it endears him to you even more. You were biting him because it’s how you expressed your love? He wished he’d known sooner.

— He definitely writes romanticized poetry about how your teeth feel on his skin.

— Knaw on him all you like, he’s yours to chew on as you see fit — so long as you promise to kiss the bites you leave afterward.

— Poor guy gets teased endlessly for the bite marks he’s got all over, somehow them being inherently non-sexual makes it worse. He feels dirty when his friends make unsavory jokes about them, but it’s not like he’s going to tell you that you can’t sink your teeth in just because he’s embarrassed.

— He notices that you tend to do it even more when you’re excited about something, nicks of your teeth interspersed with your enthusiastic smooching.

— He should have expected your habit to emerge in the bedroom, yet it still incites a shaky gasp when you sink your teeth into his neck and shoulder as you take him inside you.

— Don’t tell anyone but he likes the pain, particularly when it mixes with the pleasure of you claiming him.

— He traces your bite marks when he’s thinking of you <3

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀

— There’s nothing cuter than the pitched gasp he makes when your teeth nip at his ear for the first time. At first, he thinks you just wanted to mess with him so he pouts, rubbing at the red mark you left behind.

“That hurt you know…” he huffs, bottom lip sticking out.

— That is until he realizes that you’re doing it mindlessly like you weren’t giving it a second thought.

— When your lips press a kiss to his shoulder in passing, he’s conditioned to tense up in case you decide to take a bite out of him on a whim.

— It’s not an unpleasant feeling, but he has a habit of being vocal about his approval. The last thing he wants is for you to sneak a bite when he isn’t expecting it and he moans out loud when other people are around.

— in short, he likes it. a lot.

— He’s your personal chew toy as far as he’s concerned. Still, his curiosity compels him to ask you about it.

“So I’ve noticed that you uh… bite me a lot? Is that like… a conscious thing or…?” he inquires one day, and the way your face practically bursts into flames should be enough of an answer on its own.

“Gosh I’m so sorry if that’s weird—“ you blubber, fanning your burning cheeks as he watches in fascination. You’re so cute when you get flustered like that, he muses.

“No, I like it!” He states a little too loudly and then rushes to amend his enthusiasm, stumbling over his words as his own furious blush flares up. He was outing himself. “N-not in a weird way or anything. I just think it’s cute!”

— And when he makes the connection of you biting him = loving him, he’s over the moon about it.

— Has a thing for being marked as yours, so your habit goes hand in hand with that desire.

— Sink your teeth in until his skin dots with blood, he doesn’t care, cus no amount of pain could take away from the dizzying pleasure he feels at that moment.

— Encourages you to bite him harder <333 he's no weakling, you know you can be rougher with him, don't you?

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔

— As expected, he is less than understanding about it the first time you leap into his back and chomp his shoulder.

“HUH?! THE HELL DID YOU BITE ME FOR?!”

— Calls you a freak 😔 honestly he can be so mean </3

— However, this can be amended by confessing that your compulsion to bite him was a sign of love. Watch his cheeks get all red, hand covering his face as he leans away from your scrutinizing gaze — because you’ve flustered him.

“Yeah, okay I get it! you do it cus you like me or whatever but it hurts you know. Can’t just do it out of nowhere…” he grumbles, avoiding your sparkling eyes. Because that sounded like a stamp of approval to you.

— He’ll fuss most times you do it, but only before guiding your teeth to the place he wants them. Cus if you’re gonna bite him you might as well go for the throat where he likes it.

— Can’t help that his cock throbs whenever your breath grazes his jugular, anticipating the sting of your teeth pulling the tender skin between them.

— Going in for an affectionate chomp in other places just gets you an annoyed hand shoving your face away — especially if you’re around other people. It’s almost pitiful how your face drops when he does as if he’s the bad guy. What a joke!

“C’mon, don’t give me that look. You can chew on me later.”

— He’s all too aware that you do it to distract him, so he won’t always tolerate it if he’s genuinely busy.

“I know you’re just tryna distract me. You aren’t slick, you little shit.” he’ll hiss, though the truth is he just doesn’t wanna work with a boner.

— If you bite someone else he is IMMENSELY jealous. Those teeth are only for him dammit. And that realization just makes him even more embarrassed, because fuck you’ve infected him with your weirdness. He wasn’t supposed to like it too!

— He bites back in retaliation so watch out!

𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀

— He’s a tough guy, and obsessed with you, so chances are he’s not going to bat an eye if you wanna take a lil chomp every now and then. In his mind, you must think he looks tasty enough to eat, and he’ll take that as a compliment thank-you!

— That said, he does notice, and that you only do it to him specifically. His heart squeezes at that. I’m special. I’m special to them. Playing in his head in an endless loop as he stares at you with that lovesick puppy look.

— Eijirou wants to reciprocate but with teeth like his, he’d be too nervous about breaking the skin. That longing being there means something.

— He knows to pay attention to you when you nip him, lest he’d like to see how much harder you can bite. And he really didn’t wanna have to explain to Katsuki why he’s got an angry red bite mark at the base of his neck. (Truthfully Katsuki would notice but not say anything about it, equating it to his best friend getting mad pussy, which he is already plenty jealous of.)

— In a perfect world Eijirou would sit with you in his lap while you sucked dark marks into the flesh of his throat all day long.

— The more chomps you take out of him the more he desires to return the favor, imagining what your reaction would be. Would you like it? Would you let him do it again? Do you even realize you do it? Those questions bubble anxiously inside until he musters up the courage to ask.

“Hey uh, would it be totally weird if I bit you?” he slides it so casually into the conversation you almost miss it. But he can tell he’s piqued your curiosity when your eyes dart from the tv to his own, side-eying him but not fully acknowledging the question. “Like… how you love nip me sometimes — which is very cute by the way — I wanna do the same to you.”

“I don’t ask before biting you, why should you? Just bite me next time, K? It would be totally hot but you’ve ruined the element of surprise, you see?” You return to your dead-eyed stare at the tv, munching away at your snack as if nothing happened.

He stares dumbly at you for a moment before he processes that as both acceptance and a challenge.

“Right!”

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #bnha x reader #mha x reader #fumikage tokoyami x reader #tokoyami fumikage x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #n/sfw #bnha headcannons

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cannebady · 2 months

Text

The worst thing by far about all the fuckin' fur was how hot it was when he'd get properly nervous. It was mostly annoying, Husk thought, because he never used to get this fuckin' nervous, but these days he feels like he sweats through his fur at least every other day.

It's a byproduct of exposure to Angel Dust, he thinks (and fuck is the spider aptly named). Initially, it was anger that got him heated, being subjected to the spider trampling on his painstakingly constructed boundaries, then it was the realization that under the performance, Anthony was a spitfire with a vulnerable streak a mile wide and legs even longer. In other words, Husk's fuckin type, both topside and in Hell.

Which brings him to now; sweating through his fuckin bowtie as he paces outside Angel's room, hands so damp that the fuckin' paper wrapped around the stupid bouquet that he couldn't not buy for a certain leggy demon was getting damp and who the fuck wanted to open their door to see a sweaty, anxious, drunk failure of an overlord handing them damp shitty flowers?

Probably not the prettiest guy Husk has ever laid eyes on. His best guy, even if only in his own head.

But he'd heard Angel and Vaggie talking about her plans for her anniversary with Charlie and how much Charlie loves getting flowers. Angel's eyes had sparked up a bit, mentioning that he used to bring those home for his mother and sister, back when he'd been alive, but hadn't ever received any.

Husk knew how to spot a weak spot, and Angel was projecting to anyone paying attention, "I'm a hopeless romantic that would burst into heart shaped confetti if someone gave me flowers" and the thought hadn't left Husk's mind since.

So on his way back to the hotel, when he'd spotted a white and blush bouquet that reminded him of fur he wanted to dig his claws into and-

Well.

So he bought the stupid fuckin' flowers and now he's being a big fuckin' coward again as he's still pacing and sweating and definitely not knocking on the door and saying, "You deserve only the best, baby", and handing the (sweaty, damp, probably embarrassing) bouquet to the guy he spends every waking moment thinking about.

It's not that he even expects anything to come of it. He has nothing to offer besides a well mixed drink and an ear to bend, so he hasn't got any expectations, he just thinks that maybe someone should make Angel feel a bit less like he exists only in service to others. And sure, maybe in his drunkest flights of fancy lately he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could be the kind of guy to get a gift like Angel and care for it. Care for him.

Stupid.

He should just leave the flowers against the door.

Yeah.

But as he drops them against the door, cringing at the sweaty paw stain against the soft pink paper, the door moves inward and there he is.

Nine feet of the most gorgeous man Husk's ever been so close to, ever been lucky enough to be close to, staring at him with wide eyes and fuck, he's gotta get out of here.

"I-" he starts, but his coward voices fucks off to parts unknown, leaving only his rapid breathing and the distant sounds of the Pride ring to fill the space.

"Heya Husky," Angel says, sounded a little breathless himself.

Don't think about that.

"What's all this?" he finishes and is staring right at Husk as he tries to figure out an explanation that doesn't turn him into a pathetic creep with a hopeless crush. Fuck he's too old for this.

"Saw 'em, thought you might like' em," he settles on. True, but vague.

Coward.

"Ya got me flowers, Whiskers?" Angel says, voice a bit high, tight. His eyes are blown wide, and his mouth is open a little, like he can't get enough air in and Husk understands because he stopped breathing himself the moment the door opened.

He doesn't respond right away. Husk's been a gambling man since before Hell. Maybe this is worth gambling in, because Angel looks about a second from collapsing in his own doorway and there are only so many things that could mean.

He stands, pressing the bouquet into Angel's second set of hands, damn the fuckin' sweat and anxiety. The only way forward is though and it's the only honest way to go.

"You deserve beautiful things, sweetheart." he says, channeling a man he once was, that had the right words and tone to make someone look his way, to make them feel seen.

Those mismatched eyes go huge and glassy, and Husk is about a quarter of the way to a panic attack before he's pulled into the tightest hug he's ever experienced.

"Ya can't say things like that and expect me not ta squeeze ya, Husky," Angel murmurs into his neck, sets of arms wrapping Husk up entirely, fingers dug into his fur (he hopes he isn't too sweaty, hopes he's nice to touch).

"You deserve to hear nice things too," he whispers, and his voice is low and strained, fuckin' obviously besotted.

He feels all those lanky limbs tremble a bit (oh fuckin', Christ his knees are weak, I did that, fuck), before he decides to give into his impulse to drag his claws through that fluffy hair that's always falling into Angel's (gorgeous, incomparable, hypnotizing) eyes.

"Husk," Angel nearly whines, breathing going a bit funny at that and Husk decides to roll the dice one last time.

"Fuck it. Can I kiss you, Legs?" he says, aiming for sexy and ending up closer to desperate.

There's a shit starting grin creeping across that beautiful face when he pulls back to wait for Angel's response.

"I dunno Husky, can you?" Angel snarks and oh fuck him (literally, figuratively, any fuckin' way).

"Brat," he breathes before he pulls down to align their mouths and oh fuckin' fuck that's good.

Angel's lips are syrupy soft and sweet, tasting of vanilla and peaches and all of the good things pieces of shit like Husk shouldn't get to taste. He makes a perfect huffing whine right into Husk's mouth and he has to pull back before he loses his composure entirely.

He wants Angel, wants to show him what it's like to have someone only aim to please him, and he will, he thinks. Just not yet.

He cups the side of Angel's face, giving him one last kiss before pulling back.

Angel's eyes are half lidded and he looks like every wet dream Husk's ever had. This isn't Angel Dust, the porn star. This is Anthony, and he's fuckin' perfect.

He reaches down and tangles his claws with one of Angel's hands, rubbing a thumb along a soft cheek bone.

"Have dinner with me," he says.

"Ya wanna have dinner," Angel says, "after a kiss like that?"

"I want to do a whole lot more," he replies because he knows Angel wants to hear it and, fuck it, he wants Angel to know it. "But I want to do this right. So, dinner tomorrow?"

Angel is looking at him like he's trying to solve a very difficult riddle. It goes on long enough that he wonders if he should apologize for overstepping. Fuck knows he's not in his right mind (how could he be, standing so close to Angel like this).

But then it's like the sun breaks through and he gets one of those rare, fuckin' stunning, smiles.

"Yeah, I'll have dinner with ya, kitten," he says, breathless and playful.

"Alright then, it's a date," he says, just so that Angel knows what he's offering (so he knows it's being accepted), "Wear something nice. I ain't takin' you to any kinda dive." Because he wants that to be clear too.

He can be a gentleman, when he's fucked to be.

"Oh," Angel says and he's blushing high up on his cheeks and Husk can fucking feel the heat of it.

He raises up onto his toes to kiss one of those honeyed blushes, before bestowing another kiss to the back of the hand he's still holding.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he says before forcing himself to walk away (lest he never leave at all).

He only looks back once he's ready to turn the corner down the hallway, and sees Angel brushing his cheek where Husk's lips had been and cradling the flowers to his chest as gently as he does with Fat Nuggets.

Maybe Husk's onto something here. Maybe caring for (loving, because that's what it is whether he's ready to name it or not) Angel is something he'll be good at. Fuck knows the spider makes it easy.

If he weren't a very jaded, former overlord he'd be skipping back to his room on a fuckin' cloud.

As it is, there's just a little pep in his step, like some of the weight of the world's been lifted from his shoulders.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #Husk #Husker #Angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #Huskerdust

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