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feninina · 9 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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aperrywilliams · 11 months

Text

Under the Rain (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader is waiting for Spencer in a restaurant to celebrate their 2nd anniversary. What happens when Spencer doesn't show up?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Spencer fucked up but Reader loves him.

A/N: It's winter on this side of the world, and the rain makes me kind of sad.

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Is there anything worse than your boyfriend standing you up in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary? Yes, being stood up by your boyfriend in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary day while outside it’s raining cats and dogs.

That's worse. And pathetic.

You feel pathetic, sitting in that chair, all dolled up and waiting. You arrived at 19:30, and now your watch reads 20:45. No sight of Spencer.

What the fuck?

He was the one who suggested a romantic dinner in this very restaurant. He was the one who told you to make reservations. How could he forget it? You knew there wasn’t an active case. The very Penelope told you it was paperwork day when you texted her in the afternoon.

In the past hour, you dialed his number several times. You were worried at some point: what if something terrible happened to him? But you know bad news travels fast, so you assumed he didn’t show up just because he forgot. Deep down, you wanted there to be another explanation because if he only forgot, that would strengthen the idea of how little you mean to him.

Sensing the pitiful looks the hostess and the waitress sent you occasionally, you only wanted to dig a hole and disappear.

When the clock marked 21:00, you gave up. You asked the hostess for your coat and left the place completely silent.

The rain pouring outside was the perfect scenario for your current mood. You thought about calling a cab in front of the restaurant, but you only wanted to be far from that place as soon as possible, so you started to walk in the rain.

Goodbye to the stylish hairstyle that took you hours to achieve. Goodbye to the makeup you put so much effort into doing.

Striding along the sidewalk, you made sure to step on each water puddle you found along the way as you recalled every moment in the past months you felt Spencer away from you. And not only physically as when he was in a case. It was more than that. It was each morning he didn’t say I love you before leaving your shared apartment. It was each text he didn’t send telling you he was coming home or leaving for a case. It was each coffee you didn't share in the morning. It was each animated chat in the middle of the night you didn't have.

Were you being dramatic? You knew Spencer’s tendency to distract and engage in whatever his job could present him. In any other circumstances, you could have understood. Not tonight, though. Not when it was supposed to be your night together celebrating this milestone. The two years of love you thought were strengthening your relationship. How blind you have been. How naive.

You kept wandering on the streets with no destination. You didn’t want to come back to the apartment. You didn’t know where else to go either. So you kept walking.

Spencer Reid is a man with an eidetic memory. Everybody knows that. He can remember every piece of information people usually wouldn’t recall. He knows almost everything about anything. But even with his big brain, he sometimes has trouble keeping track of his own life. Like today.

Engrossed in a pile of manila folders from old cases, he lost time. A task meant to take just an hour or so kept him occupied and entertained for almost four hours. Emily’s voice was the only thing that brought him back from those files to reality.

“You still here?” Emily asked with a frown. Spencer looked at her oddly.

“Yeah. I was looking for patterns in our last cases in the northwest. What Tara said about the mixed murder weapons sounded familiar to me,” he explained before rubbing his eyes. He didn't notice how tired he felt until Emily interrupted him.

“Spencer, it’s almost 10 pm. And there is no active case. You can resume this tomorrow. I even thought you had plans today?”

‘10 pm’ and ‘plans today’ was enough to bring Spencer to realization.

“Fuck!” He yelped, jumping from his seat and freezing immediately, not knowing what to do.

“What?” Emily asked, seeing the panic in Spencer’s eyes.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he repeated over and over as he reached for his phone in his satchel.

“What is it, Reid?”

“Emily. I was supposed to be in a restaurant with (Y/N) tonight! It’s - uh - it’s our second anniversary,” he, visibly embarrassed, finished the sentence.

Emily shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Reid? How on earth do you forget something like that?”

“I don’t know! I - I don’t really know. Fuck. I’m an asshole!” He checked the phone: twenty missing calls. Why he left it on mute?

“Stop complaining and do something! Come on! Move your ass out of here if you want a chance of not being precisely kicked in the ass by her,” Emily instructed. She knew Spencer needed directions when he was freaking out.

Spencer rechecked his watch. It read 10:05 pm.

Swearing under his breath, he dialed your number, which went straight to voicemail. Putting his coat on, he tried again while rushing to the elevator. Maybe you were still at the restaurant? Getting in the first cab he found, Spencer headed there.

Once he arrived, he asked the hostess about you. The girl told him you left after 9 pm.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He called you again with no success. This time you turned off your phone. Spencer’s stomach was a knot, and his heart hurt imagining you sitting alone, waiting for him.

Were you at home? Spencer guessed you wouldn't want to see him, so it was less probable. Should he go there anyway and wait for you? No. You deserved better than that. He would look for you even if it could take all night. Taking a cab, he decided to check the apartment - just in case - and grab his car keys.

As expected, you weren’t in the apartment. Spencer faced the darkness and coldness of the place, and a chill ran down his spine—the fear of losing you forever.

In the car, he thought, where you could be. It was still raining, and Spencer feared you were getting soaked and frozen, God knows where.

It was at this kind of moment Spencer wanted his eidetic memory, and all the knowledge in his brain could help to compensate for the dose of common sense he lacked.

‘Come on, Spencer. Think. For once in your life, do it for what is really important for you.’

Spencer parked and rushed out of the car, hoping his hunch was correct. He was in a park. Not any park, though. It was where he met you three years ago—where his life changed forever and for the better for once.

You were in a swing, moving softly back and forth, your feet touching the ground. Your eyes focused on the rain collecting in the nook you created with your feet in the mud.

“(Y/N)!” Spencer called once he spotted you. The rain muffled the sound of his voice.

Your eyes didn’t leave the ground. At first, you thought you were imagining things. It could have been wishful thinking that your boyfriend really cared about you. He called again, and now your brain obliged your eyes to look toward the voice’s source.

Spencer was in a corner where the park's playground began. He was looking at you and wanted to run to you, but the fear you could run away made him stay there, as the rain dampened him.

The sight of you broke him. You were utterly soaked. Your coat and lovely black dress were ruined, and your face with traces of smeared makeup. He could even spot your bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying.

He caused that. And Spencer hated himself for it.

Seeing you didn't say anything, barely acknowledging his presence, Spencer dared to take some steps forward. Your numb body didn't even flinch.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry,” were his first words. Expectable but useless for you. “I fucked it up. I’m sorry. I should have been there. I wanted to be there with you,” he apologized, giving a few steps closer to you. Not looking at him, you mumbled.

“But you weren’t. And if you really wanted to have been there, you would have.” Your voice was low and husky. You sounded tired and defeated. It was worse for Spencer. For him, you should be yelling. Telling him how hurting you were. How an asshole he was.

“Baby, there is no excuse for what I did. The last thing I want in my life is to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Spencer’s voice broke with each word.

What had he done? Why? How can he be so stupid? He loves you. You’re the most important person in his life, so why did he do that to you? How can he fix it?

Still not looking at him, you spoke again.

“I can’t understand, Spencer. It was our anniversary. You were the one who suggested doing it,” you remind him. He nodded, kneeling in front of you. It didn’t matter the mud, and it didn’t matter the rain still falling. Spencer needed to look at your eyes to explain himself.

“I’m an idiot. I lost track of time and forgot,” he mumbled. You held up your head and finally looked at him.

“You forgot? So it's true I’m not that important to you,” you concluded sadly. Spencer’s eyes widened.

“No! Don’t say that!” he pleaded.

“Am I wrong? I don’t think so.” Your chin wobbled, but you needed to say it. “I know your job is important, Spencer. I do. And I never wanted to compete with that because I thought I didn’t have to. But after these past months, I think I need to get used to the idea I lost you already,” you acknowledged with a pained sob betraying you. It was the pang of the meaning behind your own words.

The memories of the past months flashed before Spencer's eyes. And there he saw it. The kisses he didn't give you, the 'I love you' he didn't tell you. The nights he didn't sleep by your side—all the things he has been missing.

He realized that although he never doubted his love for you, he stopped nurturing it and took it for granted.

Crying, he took your hands, and by divine grace, you didn't push him away.

No words he could say would be enough to convey how sorry he was. But he needed to try because he didn’t want to lose you. You needed to know he loved you and that you owned his heart. You needed to know he just realized he made a mistake, and he wants to fix it.

“The first time I saw you in this very place, you were slowly swaying in this exact spot with your eyes focused on the book in your hands. I was so mesmerized that I never thought I would get the nerve to talk to you, you know? But I did. And when I saw the warm look you gave me when I asked you if you had read the author's biography, I felt my heart warming as never before. And when I heard your laugh after I clumsily tried to flirt with you? I swear it was the sound I wanted to hear for the rest of my life,” Spencer confessed, eyes sparkling at the memory. You fondly recalled it too. You never liked to talk with strangers all of a sudden, but with Spencer? It felt natural and right.

“You let me in in your life. You opened your heart to me and taught me how to do that too. You realized I’m not the best student in those matters, though,” he chuckled, seeing your nod.

“Despite that, you believed in me. You gave me a chance to love you, and I swear loving you has been the most natural thing that has ever happened to me. You have made me so happy (Y/N). You have no idea. And that is the problem. I have not known how to love you the way you deserve. I hadn't realized what I was doing. I'm sorry. I spent much of my life fending alone, not walking with anyone by my side. And I know that does not excuse my behavior. Even so, I dare to ask for an opportunity to prove you do not have to compete with my job. Give me a chance to prove to you I can be better. I can be the man who deserves your love. Please let me gain back your love and the privilege to hear you laugh again."

Spencer was almost out of breath when he was done speaking. You mulled in his words as his hands enveloped yours, patiently awaiting your response. Would you give him a chance?

As the rain continued pouring down, your eyes focused on him, still kneeling before you with hopeful eyes.

You know he loves you. Even if he needs to be better at proving it to you. And you love him even if you feel hurt for what he did. You both would have to work to make it work. You both deserved the chance, though.

The answer to his question was clear then.

You hopped off the swing and kneeled, not releasing his hands grasp and pulling him to catch his lips with yours. He kissed you back with everything he had. When both parted, you smiled at him, and Spencer was trying to figure out what that meant. You spoke to make it clear.

“Please, just don't make me regret being in this same place three years ago.”

Spencer earnestly shook his head.

“I won’t. I promise,” he told you before kissing you again under the rain.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #under the rain #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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bakubunny · 7 months

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best friend!kiri x praise kink!reader

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts and rotting my brain for months so here you gooo. reader is shy and flustered around pretty sunshine boy when he says nice things.

tags: aged up characters, f!reader, praise kink, pet names, smut

“c’mon, just three more…” kirishima said. “atta girl, that’s it…. two… three. great job!”

his hand burned hot as he squeezed your shoulder much like the burning that was amplified on your cheeks by his words.

“thanks,” you said, quickly moving on to the next exercise given.

eijiro was your best friend. you’d known him since you were kids, and you finally took him up on the offer to let him help you train at his gym. he was surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly) patient and encouraging despite the fact that you were clueless.

“…spread your feet a little more, like this. good girl. now…” he tried to give more instruction, but you cut him off.

“please don’t say that,” you said, almost whispering the words in shame.

eijiro was so kind, but he must have been oblivious to the way your body tensed any time he said a handful of specific things. good girl. that’s it, keep going for me. you’re doing so well. atta girl….

come to think of it, there were a lot of things he said that made your skin run hot that you tried to ignore, and the majority of it started when he’d started bringing you here. but you were at your wits end. you didn’t need to be thinking of the heated ache in your core every time he said something that set you off without knowing.

“huh?” he leaned in slightly to hear you better.

you spoke slightly louder. “please don’t say that.”

“say what? is everything alright?” he had a look of concern in his eyes.

you caught a glance and a stifled laugh swiftly disguised as a cough from the blond at the machine nearby. eijiro’s roommate and your other best friend, denki. your cheeks burned as you stumbled through what to say.

“n-nothing. yes, everything is great,” you replied with a bright smile. “you were saying?”

eijiro’s brows furrowed for a moment, but he took your cue to move on.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

one week later

you sat next to eijiro where you both stared intently at the widescreen tv across the room, game controllers in hand. denki at minimum was normally here for game night, but somehow it wound up being just the two of you. so instead of several people huddled around a board game, you’d decided video games were a better choice.

you managed to secure the final kill needed to win another match.

eijiro exploded with joy. “yeeeaah! good girl, wa-”

“that. please don’t say that,” you said, cutting him off. you swallowed hard, eyes shut tight, hoping he wouldn’t ask questions or press further.

eijiro fell quiet as the kill cam started. “was that what you meant the other day?”

your cheeks grew hot. “yes. i… couldn’t figure out how to ask you to stop without making both of us uncomfortable, so i haven’t said anything. can we just start the next match?”

“we can… but what if i want to know more?” he replied.

your grip tightened on the controller. “there’s not much to it. i like praise. a lot.”

he laughed softly, loosing some of the tension in your body.

“yeah, but… what if i don’t want to stop?” he said.

eijiro’s statement caught you off guard enough that you chanced a look at his face. his cheeks were a little pink, but his bright eyed smile was the same as ever.

“ei, what are you saying?”

his grin got a little wider as he pulled the controller from your hand and set it aside. he leaned in. “i’m saying i want to call you that. would you like that?”

your brain short-circuited for a second. “i-i-i mean, um, i… yes. please?”

eijiro’s voice lowered as he lifted your chin and leaned in. “good girl…. you’re so cute with that look on your face.”

you looked back at him wide eyed and flushed from neck to hairline, his crimson eyes alight with a playfulness that was new to you. “thanks.”

he closed the distance and kissed you, soft and warm and sweet like honey.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the sound of wet slapping filled the room. eijiro’s voice rolled down your body as the heat of his breath hit your face, his forehead resting against yours. the thrust of his hips was heavy against your cunt.

“you’re so fucking beautiful, baby. can’t get enough of this pretty face, all fucked out and eyes rolling just for me,” eijiro said.

his thick length had you shaking yet again, your body begging him not to stop as another climax neared.

“eiji, needa cum, fuck-” you slurred.

he kissed you hard and leaned into your ear.

“that’s my good fucking girl, c’mon, cum for me. that’s it princess, give it to me. don’t fucking stop. don’t you dare stop cumming, sweet girl. you’re so pretty when you cum for me, i need all of it….”

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

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#aged up characters #cleaning out my drafts #my humble offeringz to u all #this was not as good as it was in my head #bnha #mha #x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro #bakubunny #f!reader

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ssailormoonn · 1 month

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❛ Self Care ❜

Postwar!Sasuke X Fem!Reader

WC; 2k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW; fab!fem!Reader,soft Sasuke like rlly soft and affectionate guys, body worship, reader is depicted as a medical ninja, this is so fluffy guys, use of {Y/n}, suggestive towards the end, fluff.

˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯; @lovelyandproblematic - ok since you asked and I have severe incurable Sasuke simp brain rot so if you ever need prompt ideas lmk! ty for being my fav tumblr creator rn 😍 SELF CARE SUNDAY W/ SASUKE! I’m talking face masks, eye masks, cute headbands, warm robes, and a nice candlelit bubble bath, the whole nine yards! He’d prolly never admit it but he def needs to be spoiled and might have to be forced bribed into participating (*cough* body worship? *cough*) but poor boy has been thru soo much he needs a night to relax and pls get some moisturizer on him stat! his skin must be screaming lmaooo

this is being depicted as sasuke being 19-20 years old, he's come back for a little while to Konoha from his redemption mission for a bit (he missed you :))

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

"I'll see you later, Sakura!" I hummed in content giving her a one armed hug as she did too as our arms were filled with only a couple bags.

Sakura pulled away from the hug after a few seconds with a warm smile plastered on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" She asked.

"For what?" I replied in confusion.

"Lady Tsunade said she'd like to meet up with us," Sakura said. "I think she misses us but she doesn't admit it."

"Ah, I see," I replied with a slight laugh leaving my gloss covered lips. "I'll make sure not to drink to much tomorrow night then."

"I'll see you, {Y/n}," She said while waving walking away.

"Bye, love!" I replied.

I pulled out my keys from my bag and I slid the key into the lock placed on the traditional sliding door. Stepping inside with an exhausted huff I slump myself down on the step up into the house and slip off my ninja shoes and rest them onto the rack only to see another pair there, a male pair.

My lips parted when I started thinking about who's they might be and my heart fluttered when I realised Sasuke must be back. I've been out the entire day and it's quite late at night now, who knows how long Sasuke has been back.

I nibbled on my bottom lip. Sasuke has come to visit three times in the two years he's been out. When Sasuke came back a few months ago he said he wouldn't be coming back for a couple of years and now look at him, he's here. It's odd, I wonder if something happened?

I place my bags next to the stair case that leads up to the bedrooms.

I haven't seen Sasuke yet wondering around in our house so I assume he's sleeping or in our room, the poor boy, he must be so tired and exhausted. I quietly slide open the door to our bedroom and I was met with the sight of my lover sleeping peacefully on our bed, the dark blue comforter covering the entirety of his body while he snuggled into the sheets. The sight made a gentle smile cross my lips.

Quietly making my way over to Sasuke side of the bed, I placed my hand delicately on his exposed cheek and I leant down and pressed a warm and gentle kiss to his forehead. I felt his body relax under my touch and I smiled into the kiss before pulling away slowly.

I was about to walk into the bathroom but just before my hand could leave Sasuke pale cheek, I felt a hand holding mine. Turning to look back, I see Sasuke's tired eyes looking at me and I immediately frown in worry.

"Sorry, dear," I hummed quietly, leaning down to meet Sasukes eye's. "I woke you."

"Don't stress," Sasuke hummed back with a tired sigh.

"'M just going to go have a shower and I'll be right back," I hummed but Sasuke didn't let go of my hand. "Are you alright, my dear?"

Sasuke hummed showing that he was fine. "I won't be too long, Sasuke," I replied. "But it'll take longer if you don't let me go," I added with a soft smile.

I watched Sasuke sit up slowly still holding my hand and a few moments of silence passed until Sasukes head drooped to my stomach and I could tell how tired he was. My other hand brushed through his hair and I placed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Would you like to come with me?" I offered and he nodded tiredly against my stomach. "Alright."

"You go ahead, I'll be there in a second," Sasuke mumbled pulling away from me looking up at me with onyx and purple eyes.

"Okay," I smiled gently as Sasuke let go of my hand.

Sasuke made his way sluggishly through the door when I turned on the tap to fill up the bath. "I figured that a bath would be better, you seem really exhausted," I hummed as I watched Sasuke slump himself down on the stool next to the bath and lean his head against the wall.

I let out a sigh while turning around to the cabinets under the sink to bring out some bathing oils and vanilla scented body wash. "My love," I mumbled thinking about how tired Sasuke is. I had no knowledge on why he was so exhausted as the last couple times he came back home he seemed normal.

Maybe that's it, maybe something happened to Sasuke and I didn't notice and now he can't cope. I'm really a terrible girlfriend, I'm so stupid.

I pulled out some facial lotions and serums for myself before a =n interesting thought came into my head. Sasuke wouldn't mind if I used some of these on him would he?

A smile rose to my face and I saw Sasuke look at me at the mirror with a suspicious expression and I simply let out a soft giggle. I watched him shake his head before leaning it back to the wall while a small smile appeared on his face. Well whatever I'm doing sure seems to cheer him up.

"Are you hungry, love?" I asked Sasuke stepping to the bath adding the salts, oils and body lotion.

"A little bit," Sasuke mumbled.

"That means you are," I replied rolling my eyes at his slight lie. "What would you like for dinner? We can go out or I can cook something?"

"I'd like to stay in," Sasuke said standing up and to my surprise he stood behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Beef tomato curry," He mumbled against the side of my neck and I smiled even though I knew he couldn't see.

I let out a soft laugh, "I'll make that for you, but it might take a some time to make, are you okay with that?"

"Yeah," Sasuke hummed briefly.

"Alright. You can go in," I said turning around gently in his arm. "I'll get dinner started and then I'll come in with you."

Sasuke gave me a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling away and his hand moving from my waist to cupping my cheek. "Don't be too long," Sasuke mumbled.

"I'll only be ten minutes, love," I replied. "I just need to cut things and put them in with broth."

──

I came back into the bathroom, like I said, ten minutes later as I was already pretty efficient with cutting things up relatively quickly. As I slid open the door I was met with the sight of Sasuke almost asleep in the bath and a soft smile crossed my lips at the sight. My tired boy.

I slipped of my ninja clothes and folded them neatly next to the sink next to Sasuke's grey sweats, as that was all he was wearing. I placed the serums and facial creams on the rim of the bathtub before I slid into the warm water.

Dinner will be ready in forty five minutes plus another ten minutes to cook the rice.

I sunk myself over Sasukes lap and I watched him open his eyes, with the rim of the Rinnegan peaking out from under his fringe. My hand cupped his cheek and I examined the condition of his skin and noticed that it was quite dry. I was planning to use my serums and skincare myself but I guess Sasuke had priority.

Squeezing some of the serum on the tips of my fingers I slowly applied the thick liquid over his face, my fingers slipping under his fringe even though I knew he didn't like me pushing it up. His nose scrunched ever so slightly when I did so which I found quite cute.

"When did you come home?" I calmly asked.

"Around midday," He replied. "I hoped that you would've been home."

"Sorry, Love. I was out shopping," I said, remembering about the bags I left downstairs full of groceries and some new clothes.

I applied some of the hydrating lotion to his face, taking in the beauty of it, he's so beautiful. "I thought you said you wouldn't be coming back for a while," I mumbled and Sasuke's hand held mine over his cheek.

Sasuke sighed before saying, "I wasn't feeling too well-"

"Are you sick?" I interrupted worried placing my other hand over his forehead only to realise that there was no fever or temperature. Sasuke is acting funny. "Well," I continued, "you look tired, Sasuke. Please relax for me."

He hummed in agreement closing his eyes in content as I continued to clean him up, only to realise that he was already really clean, his skin is quite dry though. "My love?" I asked and Sasuke gently opened his eyes.

"Yeah," He mummed.

"Did you shower before I got here?"

"I did," Sasuke replied. "I wouldn't have gone in bed dirty, I know how much you don't like the sheets getting dirty too fast."

"Yep," I said with a smile before I let my hands rest on the skin between his shoulders and neck. There was silence for longer than a few moments and my lips parted before I asked again, "Sasuke, why did you come home early? You said- you said you would be gone for a couple years."

"I missed what home felt like," Sasuke replied and I saw the lump he swallowed in his throat.

My brows furrowed in confusion. "You needn't worry, Sasuke. Our house will still be here no matter where you go," I murmured, leaning my forehead against his.

"I missed my home," Sasuke repeats as I cupped his cheeks.

My lips ghosted over his as I spoke, "You're home, love."

"I want you to come with me," Sasuke said.

"What?" I said breathlessly.

"I need my home to come with me."

My eyes widened in realisation. He wasn't talking about our house. Sasuke was talking about me.

Sasukes arm wrapped around my waist pulling me in closer causing me to let out a small gasp. "I'll come, Sasuke," I hummed as I closed my eyes and let my lips grace his own.

The lip balm I had on soothing his chapped lips.

I was his home and he was doing wandering around doing who knows what without it, without me.

Something came over my and I pressed my lips to his inciting a groan from his mouth as my tongue slipped into his mouth. His arm moved and tightened around my waist, pulling me inevitably closer into him than I already was.

Heat pooled in my stomach as Sasukes dick pressed up at my entrance and I let out a breathless sigh into his mouth before I pulled away. "Let me touch you," I asked while I nipped at the skin below his ear, leaving subtle red marks in it's path.

"You don't need to ask me anything," Sasuke groaned. "Do what you want."

I mumbled a thank you from my mouth while my hands ran down his arms, shoulders, and his toned abs. Sasukes head lolled back, leaning against the edge of the bathtub.

"You're so beautiful," I mumbled in between breaths of me marking up the base of his neck.

His arm tightened around my waist further and he pressed my down as much as he could to his dick and I let out a moan against his neck as Sasuke sighed in content.

"So beautiful."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

MASTER LIST

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTER LIST | UCHIHA MASTER LIST

if you would like to be apart of my tag list for sasuke please dm me or comment it down!! if you would like to be apart of the entirety of naruto taglist, comment or dm that please :)

taglist - @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

#sasuke x reader #sasuke x y/n #sasuke x you #sasuke x reader smut #sasuke smut #sasuke uchiha smut #naruto smut

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straykeedz · 8 months

Text

day 15: seungmin + hair pulling

©straykeedz

tw: bff2?; mention of throwing up; mentions of masturbation (m) and several sexual scenarios; seungmin is kind of a perv if you squint???; female anatomy; oral sex (m receiving); unprotected piv sex (don't do that at home 🤨); seungmin calls reader a slut several times; creampie; ♡

wc: 4,3k;

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

⚑

He can’t get the thought out of his head.

And he knows it’s wrong to jerk off to the thought of your best friend, your bestest friend in the world who’s been by your side your whole life since you were little kids, but Seungmin isn’t kidding when he says that it’s all he has been able to think about for a month. A month. And he’s gotten off to that thought nearly every day.

Now that he thinks about it - he almost feels like a creep, especially because he keeps acting normal around you and then, when he’s in the confines of his own bedroom in his own lonely, quiet place, he wraps his slender fingers around his cock and strokes himself thinking of bending you over his desk, entangling his fingers in your hair and pulling it. All this while grunting in your ear how much of a slut you are for his cock, or how much he wants to fill your cunt up with his cum. Other times, you’re on his bed with your face down and ass up, other times you’re on your knees as he fucks your face - either way, his hands would always be in your hair, pulling it until your scalp hurts.

Seungmin swears he’s never had that kind of thoughts involving you. Not until that night.

How he found out you have a hair pulling kink is pretty curious.

Being you bestest friend in the whole world, your shoulder to cry on, your entire life and the bane of existence all at once, it’s pretty obvious that he’s the one in charge of taking care of drunk you. You’d do the same for him, really, but somehow you always end up getting drunk first and don’t have the chance to return the (multiple) favor(s). Seungmin scoffs and rolls his eyes, but deep down he’s not annoyed, and he secretly likes taking care of you.

That night - you’d drunk a lot. More than usual, and soon felt like throwing up, which you never did. Naturally, you’d grabbed Seungmin by the forearm and practically dragged him to the club bathroom - the ladies’ room, of course, ignoring a few annoyed scoffs of the girls waiting in line, who probably thought you were about to fuck in there. But no, you were genuinely feeling sick, and begged Seungmin to hold your hair in a makeshift ponytail because you didn’t want to cover it in your spit and vomit in case it ended up falling on your face.

Seungmin followed your instructions, however, when his fingers accidentally got tangled in your hair and he pulled a bit harder - he wasn’t expecting you to moan. Like, a proper moan. It could have been literally anything, but no - it had to be a moan.

He froze in his spot as soon as he heard the sound, eyes open wide as he breathed through his nose slowly because no way you’d just moaned because he accidentally pulled your hair. No way. And then - his brain was telling him to stop right now and don’t do it, but little devil Seungmin sitting on his shoulder encouraged him to repeat his previous motion and pull your hair once again. You know, for research purposes - he had to know.

So he pulled it again - and, as predicted by the little devil on his shoulder, you did it again. You fucking moaned again. It was more like a whine this time, a desperate whimper, which did not make the situation any better. And now he was hard. With his fingers in your hair. And you were kneeling on the floor, trying to empty your stomach, although unsuccessfully.

Like the gentleman he is, he drove you back home, made sure you’d drink a lot of water, left aspirin on your nightstand for you to take the morning after and asked your roommate to check in on you during the night. Then, he drove back home, hopped in the shower with the intention of washing away the stress of the week off his body, and… his dick got hard, again. And he was thinking of you - actually, of the sounds that you made, repeating them over and over in his head as he wrapped his fingers around his length, a bit ashamed of doing this while thinking of you, but it was too late now.

And since then - life has never been the same again for Kim Seungmin.

He’d come home after his shift, take off his work clothes and, before hopping in the shower, take his time stroking himself, laying spread on his king sized bed. You’re the protagonist of the scenarios he plays in his head every single time since that night at the club. Before that night, he wouldn’t really think of anyone in particular while getting off - it’d be mainly tits or asses or pussies, if he’s particularly horny maybe even cocks, but never a person, only body parts. But since he discovered your hair pulling kink… oh, boy. All he can think about is you and how you’d sound moaning for him, because of him. Yesterday, for example, he got off in record time to the thought of fucking you on his couch - you on top of him, facing him, legs spread to accommodate his body as you sit on his cock, as he has his fingers in your hair, tugging at it. Then, as soon as he cums and takes a couple of minutes to recollect himself, change the sheets, put them in the washing machine together with his outside clothes and, finally, take that long yearned shower.

It’s become a routine for him, and he’s seriously worried his dick might’ve developed muscle memory by now, because he’d find himself getting hard as soon as he steps inside his place.

Like today.

He’s had the shittiest day at work, and all he could think of was going back home, taking off his clothes, pleasuring himself, taking a shower and then, finally, going to sleep. But as soon as his apartment door closes behind him and he takes off his shoes - he notices a pair of sneakers that most definitely aren’t his.

“Finally!”, he hears your voice, and his head immediately snaps in your direction.

You’re on his couch, covered in a blanket, phone in your hand probably checking your social media and a movie or a tv series playing in the background on Seungmin’s ridiculously big tv screen. It’s not unusual for you to show up at his house - he doesn’t show up at your place that often because you have a roommate, but he leaves alone and doesn’t mind having you over. However, you rarely show up unannounced.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”, you ask, noticing the confused expression on his face, brows furrowed and everything.

“Forgot what?”, is what he says, proving you right, of course.

You shake your head and sigh, but he knows you’re not really mad at him. Otherwise, you’d just start yelling. “Yah, you’re really overworking yourself. That, or you’re just getting old and experiencing memory loss.”, you mock him.

“Hey! I’m the one who makes fun of other people’s age!”, he eventually takes off his shoes and hangs his jacket, coming closer to you. “Now - what is it that I forgot?”

“Today, they released the last season of the series we started, remember?”

“The one with an awful plot and an even more terrible cast?”

“Yah!”, you playfully slap his arm, and he cracks a smile. “But yeah, that one. We said we’d watch it together.”

“You said it.” Seungmin points out. “I had no choice but to accept my fate.”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re no fun. Go change, and bring snacks on your way back!”

Seungmin is back in his living room a couple of minutes later, wearing one of his comfy oversized t-shirts and his beloved grey sweats, and a few snacks in his hands. Chocolate, chips, popcorns, it’s like the guy has a fucking bar in his house, not that you’re complaining. You play the first episode of the new season of the series he absolutely despises, but you want to watch it so bad and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d rather jump off a cliff.

And then, the unthinkable happens.

He blames a fucking pointless sex scene thrown into the second half of the episode for no reason whatsoever - but his cock stirs in his pants, semi-hard. He blinks a couple of times and starts to think that maybe, maybe, if he starts to think of ugly things such as an old, naked lady or literally any other things that turns him off, the situation won’t escalate, and his dignity would be preserved and remain intact.

And it seems to be working. For two minutes.

Because then, he feels you squirm in your place, right next to him, and he’s about to complain about it, but as soon as he snaps his head in your direction, he sees you with an hair tie in your hand, attempting at tying your hair in a ponytail to prevent your hair from falling on your face - eyes on the tv screen, fully focused on the episode.

There’s absolutely nothing sexual about what you’ve just done, so why is his cock getting harder? That stupid boner was supposed to go away. But then he realizes - it’s because of that stupid scenario he got off to, the one with you and him fucking on the couch, this very couch you’re both now on. And you had a ponytail in the scenario. A ponytail he’s tugged at too many times in his fantasies. Okay, maybe he has a problem - maybe he’s developed an addiction to masturbation or an addiction to masturbating to the thought of his best friend.

Either way, it’s absolutely unacceptable and he has do something about this absurd situation. However, all he can do now, is place a fucking pillow on his lap and pray to God you don’t notice the way he’s distancing himself from you, scooting on the couch as far away as possible from you.

But you notice. Of course you do.

“What’s up with you?”, you turn your head to face him, eyebrows furrowed, tilting your head to the side.

“What’s up with me?”, he knows he’s absolutely terrible at lying, but there isn’t much else he can do.

“You’re sitting so far away. Look, you took the blanket with you, I’m cold!”, you scoot closer to him in an attempt to get the blanket back.

You pull said blanket with all the brute force in your body, which causes the pillow Seungmin slyly placed on his lap to fall on the floor. He’s not quick enough. You succeed in getting the blanket back, but now his big secret’s out.

“Yah!”, you squeak. “Why are you hard?”

Seungmin should’ve fucking known you have no boundaries.

He places that pillow back between his legs, even if it’s too late now. “Yah, why would you stare at my crotch?”, he whines, embarrassed. “That’s what a perv would do.”

“Yah, how am I the perv when you’re the one sporting a boner in the middle of movie night?”, you’re not really mad or anything - you’re just making fun of him, letting out a satisfied giggle. “Besides, it’s not my fault your sweats leave nothing to the imagination.”, you shrug.

“What are you talking about?”, he’s beyond confused, but at the same time grateful his hard-on isn’t the main subject anymore. Maybe if you keep talking it’ll disappear.

“Everybody knows that grey sweats on guys are like… I don’t know, a very revealing neckline on a girl?”, you try to come up with a similarity.

“I didn’t know that.” He really didn’t.

“But you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” Seungmin asks.

“Why are you hard?”

Aaaand back to subject Seungmin’s dick. Honestly - what excuse can he come up with that won’t make him look like a fucking creep in your eyes?

“Don’t tell me it was the sex scene.”, you say, dead serious.

“No, what am I, twelve?” Seungmin answers a little too quickly, without putting much thought into what he said. To be honest, that scene was just the tip of the iceberg. He’s not twelve, but he’s just as pathetic - getting hard because his best friend was tying her hair.

“Then what?”, you seem to be enjoying seeing him so flustered. You even pause the fucking episode.

“Nothing.”

“C’mon!”, you insist, clearly having no intention in dropping the subject.

“You know how dicks are! They’re weird, they get hard for no reason!”, he tries to defend himself. He’s not completely wrong, dicks do get hard out of the blue sometimes, but there’s something in the tone of his voice that just betrays him.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon, we tell each other everything!”, you whine. Why do you care so much anyway? “I even told you that time I mastur-“

“That’s because you have absolutely no restraints and think of me as your fucking personal diary - which I’m not, by the way.”, he interrupts you - thinking of you masturbating won’t help his erection go away.

“Tell me!”, you insist.

“No.”, he protests.

“Kim Seungmin.”

“Using my full name won’t let you get what you want.”, he shakes his head repeatedly.

“Tell me!”

“Fine! It was you!”, he snaps before he can stop himself. All the bickering made him lose his lucidity and now he’s met with a couple of big eyes looking at him surprised.

“Me?”, you ask, absolutely shocked. “What did I do?”

“You’ll think I’m a creep.” Seungmin sighs, lowering his gaze to his hands. Is he really going to tell you? Maybe he should leave out the part where he masturbates to the thought of you - no, he definitely should leave that out.

“I already do, kinda.”, you joke, cracking a smile.

“Not helping.”, he scolds you.

“Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

He lets out another deep sigh, then fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt. “It’s- when you, uh… when you tied your hair.”, he shamefully admits.

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at him confused. “My hair?”, you ask.

He hums. “Yeah, your hair.”, he confirms. “Well, your ponytail.”, he clarifies.

“My ponytail turns you on.”, it’s a statement, but it sounds more like a question.

“If you put it like that it just sounds weird.” Seungmin points out.

“It is weird.”

“Now you’re just kink-shaming me.”, he grunts, annoyed.

“Kink?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him.

He snaps his head in your direction in record time, looking you in the eye. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t have an hair pulling kink, too!”, he shots.

You freeze in your spot, eyes wide open, staring at him. “How do you know?”, you don’t even try to deny it, it’d be pointless.

“I-“ should he tell you? “That night when you felt like, uh… throwing up, you… you asked me to hold your hair and well- I did and you…” why is he stuttering so much? “You moaned.”, he finally admits.

Now, you’re as flustered as he is.

“So you… uh, you imagine pulling my hair?”, you’re not sure you got him right, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought of it already. Repeatedly. And you’re intrigued by the thought.

“It’s all I can think of.” Seungmin shamelessly blurts out, and for a good ten seconds you’re taken aback by his straightforwardness, considering it took you nearly ten minutes to get him to tell you what turned him on in the first place.

You stay silent for a while and Seungmin just wishes the ground would swallow him whole, because he feels like he just massively overstepped a boundary in your friendship, but just as he’s about to say something, you anticipate him.

“So you… want some help with that?”, your gaze falls on his crotch, the outline his hard-on still clearly visible, and you like what you see.

“What?” Seungmin nearly falls off the couch.

“I’ll let you pull my hair.”, it’s clearly a joke, because you giggle right after you say those words.

“You’re such a brat.” Seungmin scoffs, giving you the side-eye.

“Sorry.”, you apologize. “But… I was serious. If you want some help, I’m here.”

Seungmin swallows the lump in his throat as he processes your words. Are you offering… to help him get off? How?

“Wouldn’t that be weird? We’re friends.”, he voices his concern. He’d hate himself if he lost you over a stupid erection.

“We’re two responsible adults who can be mature about this.”, you point out. “I want this, otherwise I wouldn’t offer to help you out.”

Seungmin instantly relaxes. “Okay, then.”

Seungmin’s breath hitches in his throat when you kneel before him without uttering another word, and he feels his soul leaving his body when you place the palm of your hand flat on the tent in his sweats, palming him over the thin fabric. A small sound leaves his mouth when you squeeze him, running your other hand up and down his thigh.

“Take these off?”, you whisper, looking him in the eye from between his legs, and he feels a shiver run through his body.

He nods eagerly, lifting his ass from the couch and hooking his fingers on each side of his sweats and boxers, dragging them down his thighs in one swift motion, freeing his cock, that slaps on his abdomen. Your eyes widen at the sight - it’s big. You already had a feeling he was above average when you palmed him over the clothes, but it’s even bigger than you thought.

Seungmin feels a bit embarrassed to be sprawled on his couch, legs spread and with his hard cock out - you between his thighs, kneeling on the floor, ready to suck him off, apparently. But the feeling is soon forgotten when you wrap your delicate fingers around the base of his erection and lick a long stripe that goes all the way to his tip, before engulfing it in your mouth. He lets out a choked sound, fingers gripping the cushions as you take him deeper, jerking off what you can’t fit in your mouth.

This definitely feels better than his hand.

He kicks his head back and closes his eyes, hissing when you suck a bit harder on hit tip and clenching his thigh. Then, he feels you wrap your fingers around his wrist and he opens his eyes to look at you.

“Can I?”, he asks, as he caresses your temple with his fingers. You nod, with his cock still in your mouth, and he has to bite his lip to hold back another moan. However, you don’t hold back a moan when his fingers grip your ponytail and tug at it. Hard. “Fuck, you’re sucking me off so good.”, he praises you.

You take him even deeper, your own saliva dripping all over his shaft, coating your fingers and his balls as you can feel his tip in your throat. Each time he pulls your hair, it encourages you to take another couple of inches - and he soon starts panting, clenching his thigh and abdomen, clearly close to his release.

You have something else in mind, so you release him from your mouth completely, earning an annoyed groan from Seungmin.

“I was close, why’d you stop?”, he whines, releasing the grip he has on your ponytail but not letting go completely.

“Thought you’d want to come inside of me.”, you say with a mischievous grin on your face. His cock twitches, and you crack a smile at his reaction. “I take it as a yes.”, you smile at him and he nods frantically, his brain short-circuiting.

“I’ll go get a condom.”, he manages to say, with the last bit of lucidity he has left in his body, but you stop him before he can get up from the couch.

“No need, I’m on the pill. And clean.”

He bites his lip and nods, which is his way to show his consent, then crosses his arms over his chest and takes his t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the room. You do the same, then slide your jeans down your thighs and then straddle him - wearing nothing but your bra and your panties.

You feel Seungmin’s hand climb your back, and for a second there you think he’s about to unclasp your bra, but he doesn’t stop there. In fact, his fingers reach your hair, wrapping around your ponytail once again, and you let out a whimper.

Seungmin hooks his other fingers on the underside of your panties, pulling them to the side. “Spit on your fingers.”, he grunts, tone demanding. It’s as if something inside of him had snapped. You oblige, collecting your saliva on the pads of your fingers. “Good. Now touch yourself to get you nice and wet for me.”

You’re already wet. Incredibly wet, but you do as he said anyway - absolutely in love with this side of him, so bossy and demanding, and you spread your spit all over your clit and entrance until you’re sure you can take his cock.

“I’m gonna put it in now.”, he says, looking you in the eye, aligning the tip of his cock to your entrance, ready to push inside.

You nod, eager to feel him inside of you. “Please.”

He fills you up in one, slow, motion, parting your wet walls and bottoming out with a grunt, and you moan in response, feeling incredibly full. “Took me so well.”, he groans, then both of your gazes fall to where your bodies meet.

You cross your arms over your back to unclasp your bra, sliding the straps off your arms, getting rid of it - Seungmin bites his lip at the sight of your nipples. So, he cups one of your breasts and squeezes one of your nipples with the pads of his fingers, earning a whimper from you. “You like that, huh?”

“Yeah, fuck.”, you moan. He smirks, then starts leaving a series of kisses on the valley of your breasts, then on your other tit, until he captures your other nipple in his mouth, sucking on it.

Then, he moves his hand from your breast to your hip, encouraging you to start moving on top of him. You do, lifting your hips and then sinking back onto his cock, repeating the same motion again and again, each time a bit faster. He lets go of your nipple to look at you, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, bouncing on his cock - and it’s the most addicting sight he’s ever witnessed.

The fingers that are gripping your ponytail reach for your hair tie, and Seungmin starts to pull it, untying your hair, letting it fall free on your shoulders, before entangling his fingers in it once again, tugging at it with more force, pulling it as he thrusts inside of you, meeting your movements.

“You’re such a good girl, fucking me so well.”, he mutters, not being able to tear his eyes off of you.

You shake your head as a no. “Not good girl.”, you whimper, placing your hands on his shoulder to help you with your balance as you bounce on his cock, a mixture of his and your arousal dripping from your hole, coating Seungmin’s balls and, probably, the cushion. Neither of you seems to care.

“You’re not a good girl?”, you shake your head as a no. "How do you want me to call you?”, he says, panting heavily, feeling his orgasm approaching.

“Slut.”, you whisper, gripping his shoulders tighter.

He rolls his eyes in the back of his head, brain short-circuiting. It’s curious how compatible you are, even when it comes to sex, apparently.

He tugs at you hair tighter, making you wince - he knows you like it. “Such a good slut.”, he feels you clenching around him. “You like it when I call you a slut?”, he chuckles, bringing his free hand to your hip, squeezing the soft flesh.

You nod frantically, biting your lip. “I love it.”, you whimper. Your movements have become a bit unsteady, singling you’re close too.

“My slut.” Seungmin grunts, slamming his hips against yours. “Hungry for my cock - practically begged to suck me off.”, he mutters, but he’s interrupted by a choked moan when your nails scrape his shoulders.

“Min.”, you moan. “Close.”

Seungmin groans, then brings the pad of his thumb on your clit to help you find your release, rubbing it fast, yet delicately. “Cum for me, show me how much of a slut you are for me, for my cock.”, he demands, pulling your hair harder, so hard your scalp actually hurts.

“I’m such a slut for you.”, you pant, and a few seconds later, you’re falling apart on his cock with a loud cry, clenching around him as your orgasm washes all over you. “I’m coming, fuck - I’m coming, Min.”

“Good slut, you gonna make me cum.” Seungmin grunts, close as well, cock throbbing inside of you as he thrusts faster and faster.

As soon as he feels he’s about to cum, he crashes his lips onto yours to muffle his moans and swear words, still tugging at your hair, and then he halts his movements, wanting to savor the feeling of releasing inside of you, coming with four long spurts of his seed.

Your body falls on top of his, you face in the crook of his neck and he lets go of the grip in your hair, enveloping you in a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. You stay like this for a while, that stupid episode paused on the tv, clothes scattered on the floor and your bodies entangled as you both relive what you just did.

And, somehow, neither of you is scared - you know you’ll figure this out. You always do.

⚑

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positively-mine · 9 months

Text

You’re a girl?!

how the twst boys find out you’re a girl & their reactions

tags: afab, accidental touches

a/n: very much self indulgent BUT I COUNDNT STOP THINKING 🤔 what if because it was a boys school that they didn’t have skirts and basically Crowley just made you wear the uniform & you didn't tell anyone. Like epel and lilia’s case, they just thought you were a feminine guy (p.s I just started and I haven’t read any spoilers, except for some info from reddit so I’m very sorry if this has already been covered/ revealed) very gacha coded but PLSSSSS bear this brain rot with me

Some spoilers: until book 3

Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Ace

This can go two ways. Firstly, is that he was chasing deuce or Grimm around and you happen to be walking around the corner. And BAM. You’re both on the ground with him on top of you, caging you into his arms. With both his hands conveniently placed on two lumps on your chest. It takes him a good 3 seconds of staring and squeezing before he realises what they are. What you are. Immediately feels embarrassed and starts screaming and scarmbling to get up.

Orrr he has gotten so used to coming into ramshackle house as he pleases and barges into your room without knocking. You’re both guys, so what’s the problem? Big mistake. Because you’re changing and literally only in your under garments. He’s all red and hot faced before he’s running out of your room and the house into the walkway to calm himself down.

The next time he faces you, he’s apologising while avoiding eye contact. He knows you’ve been through thick and thin together but it really did feel as though his whole world view was shattered when he found out. When he’s hanging out with you, he’s much more careful of where he places his hand and tries to look out for you. Definitely tried to act more manly as well, like when there's an overblot about to happen he either pushes you behind him or blocks you with his body..

Deuce

The way i see this going down is that he’s got his gangster mode on from whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into (or for convenience sake; the broken eggs in book 1). And he’s trying to push you away to stop you from stopping HIM from picking a fight. And something soft hits his forearm. He turns to look at you chest before he quickly realises. He’s screaming like a banshee while moving as far away as he can from you. The initial quarrel was forgotten and now his head is spinning. Thoughts like “what would my mother think if she knew what i did??”, “HES A GIRL?! I MEAN SHE” and so on. The walk back to the kitchen is so quiet that you could basically hear Grimm’s grumbling all the way from Heartsbyul kitchen. Once you arrived back at the kitchen, the guys are wondering why its so quiet between you two but pay no mind to it.

He gets awkward around you every once in a while when realises how close the two of you are but still tries to make up for it. Also becomes more diligent in trying to withhold his gangster personality. He doesn’t want to show anymore of his nasty side to you when he can show you how well he can treat you. Lest he wants to lose you to some other guys…

Trey

This one's tough. I don't know if he has sisters so let's just say that he has. He's one of the first few to realize that you're a girl, being the ever observant person that he is. He sees the pattern when you start getting a little bit more emotional than you are. Snapping at Adeuce and Grimm when you're usually much more patient, getting upset at small things or when he catches you tearing up when you talk about returning to your own world. Yeah he definitely knows.

So it's no surprise when you start to receive more baked treats from him and he's piling up all sorts of nutritious food onto your plate when you sit together. The others are wondering why he's doing that when you're capable of doing it yourself. It's only after several months of this treatment that you realize he knows that you're a girl. And when you confront him about it, "I can't help but want to take care of you when I see you".

Riddle

I like to think that you’re having tea together. He’s invited you to another one of their dorm’s many reason to have tea. Grimm and Ace are fighting for the last cookie and accidentally knock into you as you pick up your teacup. Splashing the liquid all over your dress shirt. Riddle is of course, furious. Rule #363, never spill your tea. Especially on a Tuesday. He’s screaming at them both when his eyes move to check if you’re okay. And that’s when he sees some blue peeking out at the wet area of your shirt. It takes him a quick second to march over to you and drape his blazer over you. “You should go back and change. Make sure to take a warm bath unless you want to catch a cold.” You nod at him confusedly. He watches as you make your way down the steps. He turns to the rest of the members with pink tinted cheeks. “Unfortunately this tea party will have to be cancelled,” and he quickly turns back to walk to his dorm before anyone can say anything.

The next time you see him, his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s trying very hard to not make eye contact with you. Overall, most of your relationship stays the same except that he’s inviting you over for tea more often. But this time its just the two of you. And his excuse? It changes every time. Sometimes its because he says he wants to talk about Adeuce and Grimm’s behaviour, and sometimes it’s because he wants your thoughts on which tea set is better.

Cater

For his case, it's not that he found out, rather he overheard it from a rowdy pair of first years and a cat. He was walking to his next class and about to turn around the corner when he overheard their not so very hushed conversation. His eyes widen very similarly to the saucers that they use for tea. He's kind of upset that he didn't find out himself, but learned it through someone else. Oh well. It's a win-win situation for him anyways.

So when he starts being much more clingier to you and offering to walk you to your classes do you start to get suspicious. He’s always coming over to sit together at your table and visiting you at Ramshackle more. Lounging on the beaten up sofa while you do whatever work you have to. Keeping you company for as long as he can. Or at least until Riddle calls him back or you kick him out. Whichever comes first.

Now imagine there’s a celebration of some sort and he’s excitedly running up the steps to Ramshackle to formally invite you as his date. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiles cheekily. And from behind him he pulls out a beautiful dress. “Will you be my date?” No misunderstanding his gestures now.

reblogs appreciated!

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sungbeam · 29 days

Text

nonidol!jung sungchan x f!reader

at some point beneath the glittering summer sun and along evening tides, you and sungchan tripped over the line drawn in the sand.

▷ genre, warnings. brother's best friend!au, friends-ish 2 lovers, family vacay + sungchan lol, swearing, kissing, fluff, humor, sungchan does go shirtless (it's a beach), mentions of food, mentions of alcohol; lee jeno, sohee, and anton r ur brothers! (so u have the lee last name but u "look more like ur mom"); barely proofread, also im sorry if this is boring my head has not been in the game for Months

▷ word count. 10.0k

DISCLAIMER: i DO NOT actively write for or stan riize; this is literally just a birthday present T-T so if dynamics/personalities aren't right, i literally don't know these guys 💀

a/n: happiest birthday to my beloved soulmate and wife @justalildumpling :')) i hope u like it <3

OFTEN when you came back home from work, your joints and muscles ached to the point you could barely stand, your hair felt gross on your head, and your eyes stung from dehydration and sleep deprivation. That was the toll of working closing shift at the restaurant you worked at, and had been working at, for the past several years.

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see the lights in the house still warm and bright when you got home either. Your family was a handful of night owls, not discounting yourself. They had witnessed you in this particular rat-nest dump of a state time and time again, which was why you didn't worry about looking like Death Incarnate.

“Hey.”

Your soul left your body.

Sitting on your living room couch was not a family member. Though, he might as well have been a part of it from how much you had been seeing him lately. Jung Sungchan was your older brother Jeno's best friend, but Sungchan was in your year rather than Jeno's. The two met via the high school soccer team and had been good friends since.

Years later, he was sitting on the living room couch, nearing one in the morning, his hair damp from a recent shower, T-shirt sleeves rolled up his shoulders, and his phone paused from the game he was playing. Your brain was too tired to even register the amount of muscle packed onto his arms (what the fuck—).

“Sorry, did I scare you?” He chuckled sheepishly, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, grown out slightly.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted instead. Exhaustion meant that conventional politeness was completely defenestrated. It was one in the morning on a summer night… usually your older brother was out clubbing or drinking (not that you were any different, but you worked quite a bit more nights lately).

Sungchan's eyes danced up and down your form. “Jeno and I decided we're gonna pull an all-nighter for the road trip in—” He glanced over at his phone, “—seven hours and just knock out in the car. How was work?”

Road trip? Car ride? If you could just make it to the shower… “It was fine. Tiring,” you said with a sigh. You trudged over to the far side of the room, behind Sungchan, into the kitchen. You grabbed a cup to fill with water, then drained it down your throat just as fast as it had been filled.

With water in your body, your systems were finally coming back online. Road trip. Car ride. Your eyes widened. “Oh my god. I have to pack.”

“You haven't packed yet?” He queried, tone light and teasing as he watched the progression of your panic with amusement. “Even Jeno's packed.”

You sputtered back at him, “Quiet, you!”

Sungchan's warm laugh followed you out into the hallway and all the way to your room. You couldn't understand why your face felt so hot; you should have been too preoccupied to be embarrassed, after all.

You slammed your bedroom door shut, dragging a hand down your face. You couldn't believe Sungchan just saw your I-just-worked-for-eight-hours-in-customer-service face. Not even some of your closest friends had seen the aftermath of your night shifts at work yet.

Crazy.

It wasn't every family vacation where a plus-one was invited. Your family tried to set aside time for these trips just for the six of you, but this time was an exception. Somehow—you weren't a part of the delegations—Sungchan was invited on this summer's trip to the coast. Your mom mentioned offhandedly it was because Sungchan “was a nice boy,” or something to that effect. Your family rented out a cabin right along the beach for a week, and the lot of you were going to be stuck in the family minivan for a good eight hours together.

And if Sungchan was tagging along, that meant you were going to have to fight for the middle row seat or—

“Yn—you’re in the back with Sohee and Anton.”

You came to a screeching halt on your way out of the house, a bucket hat shielding your puffy eyes from the waking world, your duffle strapped over your shoulder. It was seven hours later—an ungodly eight in the morning. “What? Nuh-uh; I don't think so.”

Jeno stood only a few meters ahead of you by the door of the minivan, his hands primed on either side of his hips as if he was the self-proclaimed guardian of the car seating chart. “Well, I said so. Sungchan has longer legs than you—”

“Why don't you sit in the back then?” You shot back with a saccharine sweet smile. You were too tired for this shit.

Sungchan scratched the side of his head as he walked out of the house to stand by you and join the argument, his flip flops thwacking against the ground. “Uhh, I can sit in the back middle seat. It's cool, dude.”

“Sungchan's too tall for the middle seat,” your dad interjected. He took yours and Sungchan's bags to add to the trunk. “Yn's in the back. Sorry, hon.”

“Dad,” you groaned.

“You can switch with Jeno half way.”

“Dad!” Jeno squawked this time.

Your father gave a tired sigh, saying more than he would ever say aloud. “Everyone in the car. Can't you two be like Sohee and Anton? At least they're knocked out.”

“They know they'll be sent to the back without question,” you pointed out as you made your way to the minivan. As you passed by your brother, you sent him a very potent stink eye, then clambered into the back row.

Like your father had said, your younger brothers, Sohee and Anton, were already dead asleep. Their mouths hung open wide enough to catch any wayward fly with their heads angled back against their neck pillows. You snorted and snapped a photo of them to add to your collection of brotherly blackmail.

Your mom was settled into the front passenger seat already queuing up driving directions to get to the coast. From your perch in the middle, you had a clear view of her phone screen—seven hours and two minutes. Yay.

You supposed there wasn't anything too terrible about the middle seat; you were out like a light as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway.

When you woke up, it was about four hours later, and your parents were having a hushed discussion amongst themselves and Sungchan. A baseball cap had materialized on top of Sungchan's head at some point when you were asleep, and the sleeves of his T-shirt were once again rolled up to expose his muscled shoulders. Did this guy not have a tank top?

“...I like it, at least—well, I don't mind all the extra requirements, and I know it'll help me reach my ultimate end goal, so.”

Your mom let out a hum of approval. “Ah, that's good that you like it. You'll be busy as a nurse.”

Right, Sungchan was in the nursing program. Your brother wasa kinesiology major, and you were going into law. It made for quite the diverse pool in the car.

You opened your mouth in a yawn and fumbled your hand around your lap for where your earbud had fallen out of your ear, carefully so that you didn't shake off Anton's head on your shoulder. (Oh no, was he drooling?)

“Yn-ah, good morning,” your mother teased quietly.

You glanced up, eyes going wide when you realized both your mom and Sungchan were now peering back at you. “Morning,” you murmured. Your fingers enclosed around your fallen earbud to tuck it into the case left in the bag at your feet.

“Sleep well?” Sungchan piped up. There was that twinkle in his eyes, the same one from last night. It made your stomach twist in a way that was more pleasant than not.

You cleared your throat, unconsciously reaching up to adjust the placement of your bucket hat and praying you didn't look like a sewer rat. “For the most part,” you replied. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “I had a decent power nap. Your mom says you're going into law. That's really cool.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Thanks. And you're in nursing, right? That's cool, too—super admirable.”

Sungchan's mouth widened into a small grin. “Thanks. It's only our first year, but it feels like so much work already.”

“Right? Tell me about it…”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the family van pulled into the parking lot of a diner off the interstate, exactly halfway through your journey. The seven of you, weary and hungry, filed out of the vehicle and into the establishment. You and your parents slid into one booth, while your brothers and Sungchan occupied the one behind you.

There was a low-spun fan swirling above your heads, an 80s song you vaguely recognized wafting through the air at a dull decibel. Your phone was stashed away in the bag tucked into your end of the booth seat while you idly sipped on your glass of iced water.

You jolted at the feeling of something light hitting the back of your head.

A gasp from behind you.

You rolled your eyes, twisting around in your seat while picking the wadded up straw wrapper from your hair. “Who did it?” You deadpanned.

The boys table was filled with sheepish expressions, to their credit. Your younger brothers, who were sitting on the far side facing you, thrusted their fingers in each other's faces in a torrent of blame and accusation.

“Aish, never mind. I don't care who did it,” you dismissed. Your eyes caught onto Sungchan's. He sat just diagonally to your left and for some reason, his eyes on you made you feel warm.

You flicked the wrapper back; it hit Anton square in the forehead. Jeno barked out a laugh.

“Nice shot,” Sungchan nodded, extending his fist to you.

You couldn't suppress the smile from coming onto your face as you bumped his fist with yours.

Food arrived swiftly afterward, and it was demolished as quickly as it came. In the sway of a palm tree frond, the seven of you were back in the confines of the family minivan.

The remainder of the car ride carried over quickly. Though Jeno unhappily sat his ass down in your previous spot with you claiming his from before, he and your other brothers snored away five minutes in. You didn't go back to sleep despite having a full belly and less than five hours of sleep under your belt; you watched the world pass by outside the window in a blur.

Urban skylines melted into rolling emerald mountains and pastures, sank into palm trees and sandy shores that met a blue horizon as far as the eye could see.

The beach house your family rented this year was a two story cottage-type. It was small, with only one bedroom and bathroom upstairs, a bathroom downstairs, and a living room and kitchen. The rest was all beach. It was determined that you and your mom would be given the honors of the upstairs bedroom and bathroom, while all the boys piled into the living room.

Once everyone was settled in, there was little else to do but go make use of your new backyard for the next week.

“Yn! Come on, slowpoke!” Sohee shouted at you from the shoreline with cupped hands. You saw his bare back as he splashed into the waves after Anton, who was already only a speck in your vision.

Your bare feet sank into the sand, and you wiggled your toes between the warm grains. Sunshine, glorious and concentrated above the distant horizon, soaked into your skin. Ah, this was the life.

Just as you reached for the hem of your shirt to reveal your bathing suit, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Jeno and Sungchan were coming onto the beach from the front of the house, a disassembled volleyball net hanging between them.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head at the sight of Sungchan's back—

Before Jeno or any of your other brothers or Sungchan could catch you ogling, you gave yourself a nice, mental slap to the face. No more. You needed to stop this. When did you ever look at Sungchan like this?

(You could still remember when he was the gangly kid with the growth spurt trying out for the high school soccer team. He was paired with Jeno to test his potential, and the rest was history.)

Sungchan was the first to spot you as he and Jeno determined a place to set up the net. He beamed boyishly, his chin inclining toward you. “Hey, wanna play?”

Your eyes flickered to the corded necklace hanging from his collar and between his—Yn, shut the fuck up. “Sure,” you said simply, feigning nonchalance.

If he noticed your wandering eyes, he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded back at you. “Sick.”

You both turned back to your original tasks. Your hands went back to the bottom hem of your shirt to tug it up and off your body. (Maybe you weren't the only one with wandering eyes, though.)

You draped your clothes over the back porch railing and began making your way down to the shoreline. “I'm gonna take a dip and then come back up!” You said to Jeno and Sungchan.

“Oh, okay—ow!”

You didn't see nor hear what happened, but when you glanced back, Sungchan had his back turned to you as he furiously rubbed the back of his head, while Jeno smiled innocently.

Your older brother waved you along. “Carry on!” He said.

Walking backward for a couple steps, you shot him an incredulous look, then turned around to meet your little brothers in the ocean. Whatever.

You had been staring at the wooden ceiling above your head for the past forty-five minutes. Your mom's even breathing and the ocean waves rolling outside the window failed to rock you into unconsciousness. You'd figured the sunlight from this afternoon would have made you tired, or perhaps all the food you ate for dinner, but your eyes continued to stay wide open.

A quiet sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled over onto your side and gently peeled the covers off. With near silent footsteps across the oak floors, you slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

The cacophony of combined snoring from all the men in the living room was comparable to the volume of the waves just outside.

You barely contained your snort of amusement. You didn't worry about waking any of them up as you crossed the living room, full of a smorgasbord of limbs and bodies draped across the large couch sectional and blankets on the floor.

The back door was left unlatched when you reached its threshold. Outside, moonlight dappled across the calm sea like a sprinkling of diamonds. You slowly pried the door open, freezing.

You and Sungchan made eye contact from across the back porch. He was perched on the top step, nursing a bottle of beer in his hand. A loose breeze wafted through the strands of his hair.

“Sorry,” you whispered, moving to retreat back into the house.

“Oh, no—please.” He patted the empty space next to him on the porch step.

You blinked, at odds. He was clearly out here for a reason and you'd figured he wanted some space, but if he was inviting you, then…

You closed the back door behind you and settled beside him, with a comfortable amount of negative space between your bodies. You folded your arms over the tops of your knees and stared out at the midnight horizon. It smelled of salt and sea spray, and the light wind was a refreshing crispiness against the humid evening air.

“Couldn't sleep?” He murmured, glancing over at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He hummed in response.

“I'm not surprised,” you said. The corners of your lips curled upward. “I wouldn't be able to sleep amongst my brothers either. Their snoring could wake a bear.”

Sungchan sputtered out a laugh as his eyes crinkled upward and he pressed the back of his knuckles against his mouth. “I wasn't gonna say it, but…”

You shared a grin with him. “I will happily say it for you, dude.”

His eyes were stunning in this lighting. The moonlight hit his irises at an angle that made them shimmer like a shade of molten copper. He licked his lips, and you saw his eyes dart from your eyes, down a few inches, then further down to the beer bottle in his hands.

“Oh, uh,” he stammered, tipping the bottle nose in your direction, “want some? I thought the alcohol would help me sleep, but it's not looking awfully promising.”

For a split second, your heart leapt at the thought—your mouth pressed against the place his mouth had been, tasting the place he'd drunk from.

You dashed the thought from your mind. It couldn't have been so significant as your brain was making it out to be. You were probably just sleep deprived.

“Thanks,” you said while reaching across the gap to accept it from him. Judging by the weight, it was just about half full, and you took a light swig.

A drop of liquid dribbled out of the corner of your lips, and you swiped it with the pad of your thumb, sticking the finger into your mouth to suck it off. You passed the bottle back over to him, catching his eyes not looking at yours.

(The organ in your chest was no longer in your chest. Was it normal for your heart to make a home in your throat instead? Why did he look at you like that?)

“Any reason for not being able to sleep?” You asked him to break the silence. “I mean, besides the symphony my brothers and dad are conducting, of course.”

His eyes shuddered, as if breaking out of a trance. “Oh, uhm—nothing in particular, I guess. Maybe it's just from all the excitement. I think it's usually hard for me to sleep in new places.”

You bobbed your head in understanding. “No, I get that. It takes me a little to get used to new environments, too. I don't know how I would have survived if I was living in the dorms at uni and not at home.” The university you attended was a decent commute from your house, so living on campus was never something you gave much thought to. The idea of living independently appealed to you sometimes, but in general, you didn't have a ton of qualms against your circumstances now.

“For sure,” Sungchan whistled lowly. He contemplated the opening of his beer bottle, then took a gentle sip of its contents. “Have you made a lot of friends? I feel like it's a lot harder than people make it seem.”

You passed him a curious glance this time. “Some, but it's definitely not as easy as high school. You haven't made a lot of friends?”

“The soccer team, mainly,” he chuckled. “The occasional ally in my classes.”

You let out a bright laugh that made his smile widen. “'Ally?’” You parroted. “What a fun word to call classmates.”

“It's true!” He insisted, chuckling. “Some of these professors are evil, man. Competitive grades? Not a chance,” He scoffed. “We're all in this together, even if the curve is against us.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud, but the rolling waves likely covered your noise plenty. Your family were deep sleepers.

“I just figured that you meet lots of people,” you offered when your mirth died down to a giggle. You toed a pile of sand sitting on the last step of the porch. “Your socials are pretty active,” you said, “but I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.”

“I could say the same about you, Miss Party Girl,” he smirked. “When are you gonna drag me to a rave?”

Heat raced up to your cheeks. “I've only been to one,” you said, rolling your eyes. He'd seen that post? First, the post-work daze, and now, the turnt raver? “I haven't gone to a party in a few weeks 'cause of finals anyway.”

Now that you thought about it, you'd been so busy as of late, you couldn't even count the amount of outings you'd declined on your two hands.

“Trust me, I get it.” He raised his hands in an act of surrender, his knees angling toward you. The negative space was suddenly a lot less negative.

Another tip of his beer bottle; it swapped hands once, twice more. The liquid dribbled smooth down your throat just as Sungchan knocked the rest back. The empty glass made a dull thunk sound as it hit the wooden porch to Sungchan's right.

“So what I'm getting,” you drawled, mimicking his position by angling your knees toward his. You felt your legs brush—the stimulus sent a jolt down your nerves that warned of addiction and tasted like the forbidden. “Is that you've never been to a rave before?”

Sungchan gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe I have.”

You mocked his shrug. “Maybe you have.”

“Or maybe it's just that I haven't gone with you yet.”

Even the waves seemed to quiet for a second. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, and you tied down the nervous laugh ready to bubble out of your mouth. You bit your lip and found yourself nodding. “We'd paint the town red, Jung Sungchan,” you murmured.

There it was again—that flicker of his gaze to some place you both knew crossed a line. It was the beer, was what you were telling yourself. It was the beer.

Seagulls surfed the ever-blue sky. Eternal summer could be thought of as a filter of golden, glittery gauze across one's already rose-colored glasses. But summer, truly, was the shade of Jung Sungchan's tank top peeling off his body as he sprinted down the sandbank after your brother, Anton.

You watched the fabric whip around in the salt breeze before settling into a heap where his footprint melted into the mineral grains. You were giving Sohee the sunscreen spritz-down up on the covered porch, while Jeno barreled down the bank after his friend and brother.

From behind you came the scratch of the back door sliding open. You and Sohee peered back to where your mom poked her head out.

She just barely caught her sunglasses in time as they slipped off her head. “Hey, your dad and I are heading out. Watch each other, okay?”

“Got it!” You and Sohee chirped.

One more nod from your mom, and then she was gone. Your parents were going to take a date into town, just the two of them. That left you and the boys here with the surf and sand—definitely not a terrible compromise. If you wanted, you could probably have the whole house to yourself, anyway. These guys could entertain themselves.

“Yn! Sohee!”

Jeno arced one arm up into the sky to beckon you down to the sea, only to get dragged underwater by his two comrades. You and Sohee harked out twin laughs as you watched Jeno fight for his life with limbs flailing and foam flying into the sky.

You patted Sohee's shoulder as you set the can of sunscreen onto the porch step. “Alrighty, you're good to go, bro.”

“Thanks—race you down!”

“Hey!” Your laughter echoed as you bolted down the sand after him to join the fun.

As your feet dug into the wet embankment, your palms made purchase against Sohee's shoulders to shove him into the water. A yelp leapt into the air, and you turned away to avoid getting hit in the face with the consequence of your prank.

“I'm so gonna get you for that!” Sohee spat water out of his mouth, a wicked grin pulling onto his lips.

“No, you're not, actually!”

You bolted—well, stomped, your way through the knee-deep water, furiously trying to get away from karma. Water yanked down on your limbs in a forceful coax to give into your punishment, but you were determined.

You could hear your brothers’ hollers of encouragement: “Get her, Sohee!” and “RUN, YN, RUN!”

Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you pushed your legs harder.

“I got her!” Wait, was that Sungchan?—

You suddenly felt a pair of hands on either side of your waist—you swore as your legs came out of the water and your world twisted.

“No, no, no, no, no!” You squawked, squirming wildly in Sungchan's arms as he scooped you into his hold like a bride. (NO. NOT LIKE A BRIDE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A BRIDE?—) One arm cradled your back and the other under your knees, and he laughed—he chuckled—as you attempted to flip yourself out of his grasp.

“You're not getting out of this, party girl,” he said close to your ear.

For a heartbeat, you lost your breath at the rasp behind his words and the grin on his face. But a heartbeat was all he needed.

There was free fall, and then all sound muffled as cold water engulfed your body. You plugged your nose and screwed your eyes shut. You felt your ass hit the sand at the bottom in slow motion, before the air in your lungs began to lift you back up to the surface of the water.

You broke out with a gasp, hair flipping back as you furiously swiped your hands down your face to get the water out of your eyes. They stung like a bitch, but you could feel the rush of blood in your ears; it was thrilling.

A hand in your vision enclosed around yours.

“You asshole!” You scowled up at Sungchan from where you knelt, though it was half-hearted.

He beamed back at you boyishly with damp hair hanging in his eyes and water running down the crevices of his stomach like a goddamn system of canals. “You're a good sport, Yn.”

“I'm really not.”

You had the distinct pleasure of seeing the smile slip off his face before you used his grip on you to yank him into the water. You swallowed a good half pint of saltwater, but the revenge couldn't have been sweeter.

When Sungchan's head broke the surface, it was followed by a dog-like shake of his head. You laughed to turn away from the spray of water; Sungchan delighted at the sound.

Amusement still lingered on your lips as your eyes snagged on the piece of seaweed that made its home on his head. You didn't think twice about it before leaning closer to reach it.

You stepped forward, and—oh boy, was that a mistake.

You had a front row seat view of a droplet of water slipping down the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the cliff of his chin. You wrestled down a swallow, and pulled the seaweed off his head, flinging it into the water.

“You had, uhm, a little…”

“Right, thanks—”

You both flinched apart as a man-made wave of water crashed into your sides. “AMBUSH!” Your three brothers declared, springing up out of the water and parading a full-blown attack with all weapons firing.

You and Sungchan were swift to launch your own counterattack.

Merriment filled the summer air as much as saltwater embedded into your skin and eyes and mouth. You almost made the mistake of thinking your racing heart was just from the determination to beat your brothers, and not from the guy on your side of the war. The heat was getting to you and the sun was getting to him.

It was about an hour later that you found yourself lazing upon the slick and smooth plane of a surfboard. The ocean rocked you gently from beneath the board; it had been surprisingly calm all of today.

At some point, you and the boys established a truce in the Great Water War, mainly because your brothers were hungry and there was a big, juicy watermelon just begging to be cut open and devoured in the house.

Suffice to say, you let your brothers figure it out.

Your consciousness faded into the foreground of your mind as a distant sound of splashing neared. You peaked one eye open, lifting the rim of the hat up to see who dared to encroach upon your isle.

You could recognize Sungchan's mop of hair from a mile away, at this point. You couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing, but why did it have to be either?

He cropped up right beside you, pushing back his hair to keep the water out of his eyes. “Hi.”

A smile curled onto your lips, teasing. “Hi. Good swim?”

“Good nap?”

“As good as one can be on the open ocean,” you said, shifting the hat up so you could see him better, but keeping your face shaded. “I don't know how dolphins sleep with half their brain on.”

Sungchan's brows rocketed toward his hairline. “They sleep with half their brain on? Crazy.”

“I know. I can't even stay awake with half my brain on.”

You and he shared a laugh, and he set a palm on the board next to your body. “Aw, no,” he assured. “If you've got less than half a brain on at all times, then I've got one brain cell.”

“Joke's on you, half my brain is half a brain cell.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. Cute. “Sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but that's not how brain cells work.”

You nearly fell off the board. “Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, do tell.”

“I'm not about to talk about neurons on my vacation.”

You challenged him with a look. “Overruled, counselor. Answer the question.”

His mouth fell open in a stunned daze, and his reaction made you break face for a moment to laugh. He blinked. “I have to be really honest with you…” Sungchan carded a hand through his hair, then pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “That was really hot.”

Was it suddenly five degrees warmer out here?

If blood rushing in your ears was akin to the sound of waves crashing, there must have been one hell of a tsunami in your veins right now.

You sputtered a laugh. “You need to get out of the sun—”

“I'm sorry I said that aloud,” he grimaced sheepishly.

“Nurse? Nurse!—” You feigned raising your head up to look around for an imaginary nurse in the middle of the ocean. “Oh, right. You are the nurse.”

He groaned, tilting his head back and playfully punching your shoulder. “You're so—”

“Hot?”

You howled at the sight of his cheekbones blooming the color of ripe watermelon. “I'm kidding; I'm teasing!”

He sighed, smiling despite the pain etched onto his gorgeous features. “Never living that down, am I?”

You shifted your position to laying on your stomach now, your arms folded beneath your chin. Sungchan carefully turned the surfboard so the tip faced him, and you were trapped in his gaze, head-on. “It was cute,” you consoled.

“So you think I'm cute?” He cocked a brow.

“And you think I'm hot.”

He flicked water at you. “Aaand, there it is!”

You laughed again, delighted at the red lingering on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

A beat passed for a second. Something settled between the two of you, a thing you couldn't yet put a name on, but it had been there since last night. Or maybe it had been there longer, festering in the negative space between you until said space could become something of a memory.

You weren't sure why he was here—why he'd swum out here to meet you when his best friend was back at the beach house, gorging on watermelon and getting his ass handed to him in Mario Kart by his siblings; why he all of a sudden occupied a part of your mind like the tide creeping up the embankment at four in the afternoon. At first, he was far enough for you to settle into a false sense of security; until all of a sudden, there he was, the foamy waves lapping at your feet and his smile the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes.

His tongue swiped over his lips and he cleared his throat. “So, uh, watermelon?” That was his original reason for coming out here. (He did volunteer, after all.)

You perked up. “Right, sure. Watermelon.”

“Great.” He broke into a smile, but the corners of it were softer, fonder. You could get used to the look of it.

There was this saying—the elephant in the room—but here in the cabin living room, it was definitely more of a blue whale. Just completely out of the water, weighing about thirteen tons, the size of twelve school buses… yeah, that sounded about right.

“GO FISH!” Anton flung his finger across the circle at Jeno with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. “Suck it!”

Your mom sent an express glare his way. “Anton.”

Your youngest shrunk down sheepishly. “Sorry, eomma.”

The seven of you were settled in the living space this fine evening with a deck of cards. Your parents were on the couches watching the movie on screen and the game before them, while you, your brothers, and Sungchan huddled around the coffee table playing said game. Sunsoaked and weary, it only took one hearty and filling dinner to perk the lot of you right back up like a field of sunflowers.

“This is a stupid game,” Jeno sulked as he examined his hand of cards.

“You only say that because you're losing,” you pointed out. “Anyways, Jeno, can I have that three?”

Jeno cut you a glare as the rest of the table rolled into fits of laughter. Your smile was cheeky, reaching out to snatch the three Jeno revealed he had during his turn.

“That's cold,” Sohee snorted.

Your eyes darted over to Sungchan opposite you. His eyes were glimmering. “Yeah, I didn't know you had so much ruthlessness in you, Yn.”

“Why do you think she's going into law?” Jeno grunted. Though one card less, it meant that he had one less pair in his finished pile. At this rate, you might win and end up with the most pairs.

“Guys, it's literally just how you play the game.” You nodded over at Sohee. “Sohee, do you have a jack?”

Your younger brother handed it over without ceremony. “Unfortunately.”

“Anton, do you have an ace?”

He shook his head. “Go fish, noona.”

“See?” You said to the rest of the table, but your eyes went to Sungchan's. “The nature of the game.”

They let you off the hook because you didn't plunder everyone of their cards this round. It continued on with Sohee, then Anton, before landing on Sungchan.

He made a show of considering his cards, a furrow between his brows. He glanced up at you over the rim of his hand and gestured with a curl of his fingers. “I'd like that ace, Yn.”

“Oooh,” Anton giggled.

Jeno grinned as you extended the ace across the table to Sungchan. “Karma.”

“Thank you—” his fingers grazed against yours as he plucked the card from your grasp, “—very much.”

You pressed your lips into a small smile, nose wrinkling up at him. You had a few cards left to rid yourself of.

Your dad cleared his throat as he stood up from the couch to bring his empty bowl to the sink. “By the way, are you kids still going into town tomorrow?”

The five of you exchanged brief eye contact with one another. “Yep.”

The idea had come up during dinner after your parents came back. They'd mentioned a variety of activities and little shops to visit that might be fun for you to see, including a hand churned ice cream shop and a port side arcade building. It would just be the five of you going, while your parents would walk down to the beach trails about a mile from the cabin to go hiking.

In the morning, you and everyone else in the house took your time getting up and ready for the day. Breakfast was taken together at the table before you split off into your separate parties.

Jeno took the wheel with Sungchan riding shotgun, and you sat in the middle row with Sohee, while Anton occupied the back. You rolled down your window to rest your chin on the fold of your elbow, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you watched the scenery pass by.

Right in front of you, Sungchan also had his window rolled down with his arm propped on the lowered sill. He chatted animatedly with Jeno about whatever game he and all three of your brothers were playing this morning, but you could feel his gaze go to his side view mirror more than once.

The ride was an easy, breezy one.

The main town center bustled with locals and visitors alike in the late morning. Jeno found free parking about a block away, and the five of you walked over as one big group.

“Ice cream first!” Anton declared with one arm raised toward the sky.

“I concur,” you chimed in. You lifted your sunglasses up slightly so you could read the town directory easier. “Seems like we're close by.”

Anton nodded in approval. “Onwards, then.”

You and your youngest brother led the way. The idea of ice cream made your mouth water, especially since you could already feel a bead of sweat dribble down your spine. Why was it so goddamn hot?

The shop was a cute, little building with a pink and white striped awning and a large window in the front that gave visitors a front row view into the ice cream churning experience. You snorted as Anton pressed his nose up against the glass, a wide grin splitting his face.

“You're scaring the workers, dude,” you jested, tugging your brother along.

Anton scrunched his nose up at you. “You scare me every morning.”

“Just because you're a wimp when I put toner pads on—hey! Do you want ice cream or not?” You cackled as he attempted to flick you square in the forehead.

Jeno groaned. “Guys, can we please act normal for once?” He asked as he swung the door open for everyone.

Sungchan beat you to the punchline, slapping his friend on the back while he ducked inside. “That's rich coming from you, man.”

“Hey!”

The squabble was swiftly swept out of your mind when you stepped foot into the shop. You were nearly knocked over from the potency of the sugary waffle cone scent that occupied the room. At the sight of tubs upon tubs of frozen treats kept within the display case, your entire face lit up, eyes going glassy with wonder. “Oh no, too many to choose from,” you gasped, cupping the lower half of your face.

Sungchan chuckled beside you as he crossed his arms and assessed the dozen options before you. “I didn't know you were such an ice cream fanatic, party girl,” he mused. He glanced over at you with a fond sort of gleam in his eye.

“Don't even get her started,” Sohee groaned. “She and Anton have a sweet tooth to rival Willy Wonka.”

Anton flagged down one of the workers, having already found his targets to try. He was in here for less than two minutes and was already rattling off the entire menu to the poor girl behind the counter.

“Tiramisu sounds really good,” you muttered. Your eyes moved slowly from tub to tub. Another gasp flew from your lips, and you clasped a hand on Sungchan's shoulder. “Wait—but strawberry shortcake—hhhhh.” You wrinkled your brows together, lips pressed into a taut line.

This was not good.

“You could always get a double scoop,” Sungchan suggested.

You bobbed your head. “That's true, but I'm just worried I won't be able to finish, y'know.”

“Well, maybe I'll get one of the flavors you want and we can split.” His shrug was all too casual.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, biting his lip through a smile.

The organ in your chest gave a hop, skip, and a leap. You weren't sure if it was at the thought of it all working out alright or if it was because of Sungchan's generous gesture. You were telling yourself it was the former, but you could be persuaded it was the latter if given a light shove in that direction.

When everyone's scoops were paid for, you fell into a loose formation to stroll around town while you finished your treats.

You and Sungchan were glued to each other's sides out of necessity since you were sharing flavors. Jeno walked on his other side, however, lapping at his cotton candy blue scoop seated upon a throne of waffle cone. The two youngest walked in front, leading you all to wherever they wished to go.

The town itself was rather quaint when you finally soaked it in. It seemed like the kind of place everyone knew everyone, and if you were new or only visiting, the locals were just as friendly and welcoming. The town center was stocked with anything a resident might need—a small grocer down the street, clothing stores and restaurants lining the boulevard, a newspaper stand at the corner, a laundromat, a hardware store, and more places you were certain you wouldn't be able to see in just one walk.

As you scooped a bite out of some of the last bits of tiramisu in Sungchan's cup, Jeno was summoned up to his brothers who were debating over which way they should turn next. You and Sungchan lingered behind to finish off the ice cream in your respective cups.

Just as you slurped up the melted shortcake ice cream at the bottom of yours, your eyes caught onto a storefront behind Sungchan. It was decked out in cliché boho-chic, with braided nets, shells, and sand dollars in the window and over the door frame. The souvenir shop seemed to embody the quintessential tourist trap, and you didn't mind falling into it.

“—guys, we're gonna go to the arcade now!” Jeno said, beckoning you and Sungchan over. They must have decided on a route then.

You made your decision. “You guys can go ahead! I'm gonna pop into this place for a second. I promised I'd get my friend Minjeong something.” Minjeong was one of the few close friends you made at university, and though you didn't promise to her face you'd get her something, you were determined to get her a little trinket as a token of your affection.

“You're gonna go alone?”

You blinked. “Yeah, I'll just meet you guys at the arcade.”

Sohee piped up, “But mom said buddy system.” Okay, you should probably honor that, but it wasn't as if the four of you always followed that rule.

“I'll go with you.”

All eyes went to Sungchan who tossed his empty cup and spoon into the nearby trash can. He gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. “I wanted to get my mom something anyway.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously as Jeno narrowed his eyes at Sungchan, like they were communicating telepathically. Odd.

In fact, you didn't really know what to think about being alone with Sungchan. There was a difference between coincidentally ending up on the porch together or conversing in the ocean away from everyone else, to purposefully breaking off from the group to spend time with each other.

Then again, he said he was getting something for his mom. That gave a different implication to him volunteering to accompany you. The goal was capitalism, not something forbidden.

Maybe you were thinking about this too much.

“Okay, fine,” Jeno relented. “We'll meet you at the arcade, but don't take too long or we'll leave without you.”

“Aye-aye,” you teased, raising a hand to wave goodbye to your brothers. “C'mon, Sungchan.”

You dumped your empty ice cream cup and spoon into the trash before slipping inside the souvenir shop with Sungchan following right after you. You lifted your sunglasses up on top of your head, skin prickling with gooseflesh from the draft of air conditioning wafting overhead. A soft-toned acoustic played in the background, accompanied by the cheery greeting of a staff member from behind the register.

You and Sungchan lifted your hands in warm reply, then disappeared into the aisles to explore.

Your fingers grazed along the racks of clothes branded with the beach town's name and minimalist artwork; your eyes roamed over the ships displayed in bottles on the walls, the not-for-sale surfboard hung for decor. Like many souvenir shops, there were several turning displays that boasted rows upon rows of themed keychains with specific names engraved into them.

“I will never find my name amongst these,” Sungchan mused quietly from beside you as the two of you rifled through the surfboards and seashells and sharks. “And yet, I look for the S names all the time.”

“Valid,” you nodded. “Sometimes I can't find my name either, but it's the hope that gets you.”

“And fails you,” he pointed out.

“Touché.”

Near the keychain displays stood a tower of hats and head accessories galore. There were crocheted bonnets, straw hats, ball caps, and even headbands. Your expression glittered as you plucked up a headband with twin sunflowers on the top like a pair of antennas.

After hanging your shades on your shirt color, you donned the headpiece, twirling around to show Sungchan. “Thoughts?” You asked, failing to sweep your grin away.

Sungchan beamed back at you. “Oh, you're too cute.”

You ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck to reach for another headband—this time, one topped with red crab claws. Sungchan graciously bowed his head for you to crown him with the piece.

“Fabulous,” you declared with your hands on your hips.

He peered into the small mirror to the side of the hat rack. “You think?”

“Of course.” So much so, that you pulled out your phone to snap a picture. You tilted your head toward his to fit both of your faces and headbands in the frame.

Sungchan peered over your shoulder to take a glimpse at the photos. His tongue was jammed into his cheek, and you could feel his breath along the shell of your ear. “Send me those?”

“I'd need your number first.”

He grinned boyishly, roughing a hand through his hair before taking your phone from you. “You don't even have to ask.”

As he saved his contact information into your phone, you attempted to calm the giddy butterflies in your stomach by peering back into the mirror at the headband on your head. You squished the plush sunflower heads with your fingers, humming thoughtfully. “I low-key wanna buy this.”

He glanced up from your phone before handing it back to you. “If you buy that one, I'll buy this one,” he replied, pointing up at the crab claws on his head.

“You're such an enabler,” you jested. A beat passed. “Okay, but only if you get it with me.”

“That is what I said,” he chuckled, eyebrows arched.

The remainder of the time you and Sungchan spent in the shop was mainly to figure out what you would purchase for Minjeong and what Sungchan would buy for his mom. (Mainly, implying that there was still room for shenanigans.) It took a little more than half an hour, but you both emerged from the souvenir shop with a gift bag each, containing your headbands and the baubles bought.

The arcade was only about a ten minute's walk from your location, so you and Sungchan took your sweet time getting there. As the two of you walked—the backs of your hands grazing against one another, shoulders bumping—you nearly forgot that Sungchan was your brother's good friend. Jeno had never made it a point that you and his friends should never mix, and you knew he could care less about your love life, but this was different. (Was it?) It felt like something that shouldn't happen, and yet, why were you starting to want it so badly?

The outside of the arcade was a cream colored building, much like the others in town, but with large posters on the outside beckoning guests to come in and try their hand. Your brothers texted you to let you know they were in a game of laser tag right now, so that gave you and Sungchan a little more time to yourselves within the arcade.

“I have an idea!” Sungchan grabbed your free hand and hauled you off toward something in the distance.

The feeling of your fingers slotting with his had more than just your steps skipping. “Hey, man—you and your long legs need to chill!” You hollered at him through a laugh.

He sent you a look over his shoulder before stopping at one corner of the arcade. With jazz hands, he presented his marvelous idea. “Ta-da!”

Before you was an all-time classic: Dance Dance Revolution.

Your eyes widened just as your smile did. “It's like you read my mind,” you marveled.

The machine was just like the movies with a multicolored screen of bright blues and purples, a platform with two sets of arrows in the floor, and two arched rails at the back for each player to hold onto as they danced the night away.

Sungchan marched up onto the platform and fished a wadded up paper bill out from his wallet. “Have you played before?”

When the machine devoured his money, the screen leapt to life and blasted its opening music to announce that somebody was willing to step up to the challenge.

You set your gift bag down at the foot of the platform and climbed up to join him. “I've only seen it done before, but I've always wanted to try it.”

You and he locked eyes, and you were sure the twinkle in his was a reflection of just how excited you were.

“Well, today is your lucky day, party girl,” he chirped. “Let's see what you've got.”

It didn't take long for you to figure out that “what you've got” was a lot less than whatever Sungchan had.

You grappled onto the railing behind you tightly as you stomped your feet against the coordinating arrows that flashed on-screen. How long had it been since that fateful first round? Ten minutes? Two days? It was all mashing together.

“This is unfair; you have longer limbs,” you groaned after missing a few arrows in a row. Why were you so out of breath?

A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of Sungchan's head. It was almost comical how serious you were both taking this game. “I have practice,” he corrected cheekily.

“Same difference!”

“A master never blames his tools.”

You huffed. “Bullshit.”

At this point, your losses were becoming ridiculous. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

For a sequence you knew you were going to miss, you leaned over and pinched his side. Sungchan jolted—it did the trick, and he missed the steps. His head whipped over to you, an impish gleam in his irises.

“Oh ho ho… you wanna play that game?”

You placed your hand on your hip as the round ended. “If I'm gonna lose, might as well go out with a bang.”

His tongue swiped over his lip. “You're on.”

The next round commenced, and adrenaline spiked through you like a spear, more powerful than before. You knew to expect Sungchan's revenge, but you struck first.

A poke at his side resulted in a tickle at your waist. You returned his parry with a blind poke at his stomach.

Anticipating his response, you spotted his arm incoming out of your periphery and moved to step out of his reach. Instead of solid platform, however, your breath hitched at the feeling of half your sandal slipping off the edge.

Sungchan's eyes went wide and his arm instead curled around your waist and hauled you to him. “Shit,” he muttered, “are you okay? Sorry, that was totally my fault.”

Your palms had landed on his chest, your heart rate slowing but not fast enough. All of the excitement in your veins was likely more so from the game itself, and not from almost falling off the platform… and perhaps, another part of it was you realizing just how close you and Sungchan were now.

You nodded. “Yeah, I'm completely fine; don't even worry about it. And it wasn't your fault—I miscalculated my step and I started it anyway.”

He pressed his lips together. “Still.”

“Nice catch, by the way,” you said quietly.

You saw his eyes leave your gaze, and this time, you followed in his movements. He ducked his head, almost shyly. “I guess so,” he chuckled. “I'm glad I caught you.”

If anything, your heartbeat was gaining speed again. The hand pressed into your waist was a little more addicting than you would have liked, and his mouth was closer than you thought it had been.

In the neon glow of the Dance Dance Revolution screen, you and Sungchan leaned toward one another with one aim, and one aim only.

“Hey guys!”

You leapt off the dance platform at the same time that Sungchan zipped to his side, gripping the railing with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.

You pressed a hand against your palpitating heart and turned to find all three of your brothers bounding over to where you and Sungchan were.

“Oh my god,” Anton gasped, “is that DDR?”

It seemed that Anton and Sohee were more focused on the game than yours and Sungchan's compromising position. But Jeno… you noted the suspicious narrowing of his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest…

You swore you and Sungchan swallowed at the same time.

“Did we interrupt something?” Jeno drawled.

“Nope!”

You and Sungchan looked at each other at your simultaneous answer. Great. That definitely wasn't even more conspicuous or anything.

Jeno pressed his lips together. “Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. “Well, Mom and Dad texted and asked for us to meet them at the house, so we've gotta go.” He lifted the screen of his phone up for you to see. Dear god, you hadn't even realized they'd texted the group chat.

You cleared your throat. “Right.”

You picked up your gift bag, and your younger brothers immediately flanked you on either side to gush about the game of laser tag they had just partaken in. Though you nodded and engaged in their conversation, your mind was elsewhere.

Plus, it was hard not to be hyper aware of the fact that Sungchan was now alone to face Jeno somewhere behind you. You were not looking forward to the car ride back.

There were always some, unspoken fine lines that should not be crossed—at least, purposefully. In retrospect, you knew Jeno didn't care about who you chose to spend your time with, as long as they treated you right. In the same vein, you didn't care much about what he thought when it came to your own decisions, and yet, you found yourself caring a little more because this was one of his friends. Not yours.

But feelings were feelings… and you were slowly coming to terms with yours.

It was like déjà vu when you crept down the stairs in the dead of night for the second time this vacation. You simply could not bear staring at that wooden ceiling any longer with your mind reeling from this afternoon's events.

The living room was yet again a cacophony of light snoring, and you crossed the room toward the back door once more.

You paused again, the sight of Sungchan's back a familiar one. Instead of sitting on the porch steps, though, he leaned against the railing, gazing out at the dark waves. It was yet another calm night out on the embankment, but the moon tonight was hidden away behind a few wisps of cirrus clouds.

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you greeted softly, gently closing the door behind you so you could join him at the railing. It was funny how you both were on the same wavelength. Fate had a funny way of encouraging you.

You and he hadn't properly spoken since the arcade, and Jeno hadn't said a word about it to you either. Dinner had gone on normally enough, so you were unsure of where this all stood.

“I wanted,” Sungchan began, “to talk to you about something.”

You glanced over at him and found his eyes already on you. “Sure, of course.”

He straightened, gesturing to the sandy beach beyond. “Walk with me?”

You nodded and followed him down the porch steps. Your feet met the cool grains of sand, and a sense of calm seeped into your bones from the bottom up.

A hand outstretched in your vision, uncertain. You clasped your hand in his palm, and the pair of you began to walk. You couldn't recall whether you began to adore the feeling of your hand wrapped up in his earlier or just now.

“So…” you trailed off.

“So,” he picked up. “About earlier today. I wanted to, uhm, make sure we were on the same page about something.”

He stopped you both when you were a good distance from the house, where the waves slipped along the sand louder than the snores.

“I had a really fun time with you today,” he said.

You nodded your head in earnest. “I had a great time with you, too.”

He smiled then, hand letting go of yours to drag over his face. “I'm—I’m happy to hear that,” he replied, and you were sure he was trying to hide his growing giddiness.

You reached over and gently pried his hands away from his face. “Did Jeno talk to you about today? Did he say anything?” Before he could reply, you added, “Because I know he means well, but who I choose to spend my time with is my decision. If he can't handle us together, then he'll have to learn to suck it up.”

“He did say something to me about it,” Sungchan admitted, “but it was just to make sure I wasn't playing around.” With his hands locked in yours, he gave your palms a reassuring squeeze. “And Yn, I'd like to take you out sometime—properly. No playing around.”

No more toeing the line in the sand.

Your heart rattled violently in your chest. “I'd really like that.”

His expression melted into something tender, like the dark swirls of molten chocolate in the scoop of tiramisu ice cream. His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “Okay,” he murmured, barely audible over the soft laps of the waves, “good.”

He considered you for a moment longer, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “I also—I did intend on kissing you earlier today, and I probably should have prefaced it, but—mmmh!”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled his mouth over to yours. He sank into your hold with a content hum, his hands slipping around your waist to tug you closer to him. You'd never really thought about what kissing Jung Sungchan would be like, but you knew that your imagination couldn't have been better than this.

When you broke apart with your foreheads pressed against each other and sharing breathing air, you let out a small laugh. The sound coaxed a warm chuckle out of your counterpart.

“Sorry,” you breathed against his lips, “I probably should have asked first.”

He smiled against you. “You can apologize by kissing me again.”

He most certainly didn't have to tell you twice.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! (idek if that was good, im off my Game and off my Rocker dkfnrj)

m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @meosjinn @fluorescentloves @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @kflixnet

#kflixnet #riize x reader #jung sungchan x reader #riize oneshots #riize imagines #riize fluff #riize scenarios #riize drabbles #sungchan oneshot #sungchan fluff #sungchan drabbles #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios

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junkworldusa · 3 months

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HI I love my copy of Junkworld btw!! Thank you!!

Idk I might have asked you this before or someone else may have but I was wondering if you would talk some about your art practice like. Routine and the like? I think I remember you doing Lynda Barry exercises?

Well either way thank you!!!!

Oliver!!! Yes!!! I'm so glad!

I have to preface this by saying that I don't even work on art every day, much less comics. Last October I picked up knitting on a whim and spent all my free time making hats while listening to an audiobook of Moby-Dick. I made a lino print for the first time while sending out JW #1, fell in love with it, and have spent the last month or so carving and printing and experimenting. I go on painting jags, collage jags, writing jags, and I have two (2) guitars that are sitting in the corner patiently waiting for asteroid Kiana to circle back to them. I've been this way my whole life, and I am trying to work with it and not against it. HOWEVER. There is a hardcore Type A perfectionist inside me that wants nothing but consistency. This part of me abhors the flightiness, the mutations, the bouts of melancholy -- if there must be a Quest, it cries, let it be towards a singular Goal!!!!

For recovering perfectionists there really is no better teacher than Lynda Barry. She has a list of materials, she has dozens of exercises, she has you set time limits. According to her books she is quite a strict teacher in-class, demanding a lot of time, effort, care, and attention. All of this is wonderful. She boxes you in and sets you free.

"Making Comics" is the essential text. My favorite exercise is Monster Jam.

Here are a few of mine, all done left-handed to minimize the influence of the Type A chatter who lives in my brain. I have dozens and dozens of pages of these monsters. Barry recommends this specific process a lot: lay down the lines under pressure before your brain can catch up, then add color/patterns/details, under no pressure at all, while watching/listening to something you like.

There are several iterations after this - you draw their parents, an older sibling, a lover. Then you go back to the beginning and draw, in 6 panels, the story of their life. It somehow always presents itself.

As valuable as they are, I don't use these exercises to actually make comics nowadays. I use them to loosen up and activate that aforementioned feeling. Most of my comics come from doodles or notes scribbled down in a tiny notebook I carry everywhere. The process of making a longform comic is something I have bashed my head against for YEARS, and now involves divination, random image generation, a deck of Nancy cards, a lightbox, and a ton of panels chopped up and spread out on the floor so I can move them around. This is why I still only work in grids!

#2024 #not comics #thank you for the question #also happy belated birthday!!!!!

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

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The Road to Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 3,008

Summary: You work at the local bar and things are usally pretty boring and quiet until you get a new customer who appears to be a grump but when it comes to you it’s a whole different story...

Author’s Note: So Pedro’s new Esquire shoot nearly killed me but also inspired me and thanks to my lovely friends @beccablogsthings @laineyreads @justkinsey for sharing their amazing brains and thoughts I did my first AU with Joel. And thank you to my sweet Ali @flordeamatista for sharing some extra goodies with me to help! This one photo belong just screamed Biker AU, between the tight pants and leather jacket...I mean🥵Anyway, enough of my rambling! Thank you all so much for reading! Much lovel always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweets🥰

Warnings: softness and fluff, lots of flirting and protective!Joel

Thanks to Esquire for the photo below:

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Why are biker dudes always so grumpy?”

You turn to your friend Jade and it takes you a moment to realize why she made her comment. You follow her line of sight to the small group of bikers that are playing pool at the back end of the bar.

“They look like they’re having fun,” you reply.

“Not that guy,” Jade says, discreetly motioning to the one sitting on the last stool closest to the pool tables.

His legs are spread wide under the bar top, his jeans clinging to his thick thighs like a second skin and his heavy black leather boots resting on the stool’s bottom bar. The leather jacket he’s wearing is tight along his broad shoulders and worn and soft looking in all the right places.

You don’t answer her and keep your eyes on him, unabashedly letting your gaze wander down his body and back up again.

When you reach his face he’s staring back.

And he smirks.

“Ok never mind,” Jade giggles. “He smiles but apparently only at you.”

You give him a small wave and smile before turning to your friend. “What?”

“Exactly,” she answers with a grin. “Do you know him?”

“Oh she knows him,” you other friend Dan sings as he whizzes by, precariously balancing several drinks in his hands.

“Who?” you ask, still lost in your haze of lewd thoughts.

“The biker dude…the one that only smiles at you,” Jade repeats. “Dan says you know him.”

“Dan…?”

Dan runs by again. “You know…your biker boyfriend that’s been coming in every weekend for the last month. Poor Jade has been missing out on all the fun because she usually works weeknights.”

Dan’s gone again before you can add that the hot biker is not your boyfriend. Unfortunately.

“Oh,” you exclaim as you move down the bar and grab empty glasses. “That’s Joel…and he’s not a dude. That, my friends, is a man.”

“Mm you’re right,” Jade agrees, grinning harder. “And you clearly have the hots for him.”

“What?” you say again, the empty beer mugs clanking in your hands.

“She so does,” Dan says, blowing you a kiss before he starts helping a customer.

“Is it possible for you to form a coherent thought when he’s in the same room?” Jade teases.

You huff and blow a raspberry in her direction. “It’s Dan’s fault. He keeps doing fly bys!”

Both you and Jade cover your mouths to stifle your giggles and Dan looks over with his own mischievous smile.

After cleaning up the bar and collecting any stray tips you slide up next to Jade as she fills some mugs.

“I think the biker dudes,” and you laugh after saying it, “need some refills.”

“Great, that’s all you babe,” she says. “I have to see this.”

You roll your eyes and saunter over to the pool tables, making your rounds and asking who wants what. When you reach Joel he leans back on his stool, one large hand still curled around his glass of whiskey and the other now resting on his thigh.

“Hey sunshine,” he says.

“Hi Joel. Can I get you another?”

Your eyes slide to his empty glass before settling back on his face. He studies you, his eyes glittering.

“How much longer is your shift?” he asks.

“Another hour or so,” you answer, raising your brows at his seemingly random question.

“Then I’ll have another,” he says, nodding his head in thanks.

You reach for his empty glass, your fingers brushing along his rough knuckles and you suck in a breath at the sensation, your lips parted when you catch his knowing smile.

You hurry off and try to brush past Jade but she follows you all the way down the bar with Dan in tow.

“He’s still smiling,” she says with glee.

“HE IS!” Dan squeals.

“Is he?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yep,” Jade replies, popping the p.

With a new glass of whiskey you walk back to Joel, trying to ignore the feel of your friends eyes on your back and their distant chatter.

“Here you go, anything else?” you ask him.

“Thanks sunshine,” he says, eyeing you over the rim of his glass as he takes a long sip.

His neck muscles flex with every swallow and you watch the chords shift as he tilts his head back, finishing it in one long gulp.

“I’ll take one more,” he winks and licks his lips.

“You got it,” you breathe out and practically run off, forgetting to take his empty glass.

After serving Joel his third drink you check on the other guys before making the rest of your rounds. Once everyone has a drink in hand you start to wipe down the bar.

“We need some music,” Jade says when she starts to help.

Dan agrees with enthusiasm and you say, “good idea. I’ll be right back.”

You walk toward the old Juke Box and start to shuffle through the songs.

Just when you think you’ve decided on a song you feel a presence behind you and turn to see your ex smiling at you.

“Jeff?”

“Hey baby,” he croons, reaching for you.

You step out of his grasp and put some distance between the two of you.

He makes a face, his expression losing it’s smile and turning hard.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone mocking.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him, taking a step back for every step he takes toward you.

“Came to see you,” he drawls. “Missed you.”

“Jeff,” you warn. “It’s over. It’s been over. You need to leave.”

You don’t even notice that the bar’s gone quiet and everyone is watching the scene unfold. Jade and Dan rush out from behind the bar to go to you but Joel stands from his seat and motions for them to stay put.

Jeff reaches for you again, this time wrapping his large hand around your arm and yanking you closer.

“Don’t embarrass me baby,” he growls.

“Get your hands off of me,” you hiss, trying to pull away.

“You heard her,” a gruff voice says from bedside you. “Hands off.”

You turn to see Joel standing next to you, his expression cold and hard as he stares at Jeff.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jeff asks, looking Joel up and down.

“Doesn’t matter,” Joel answers, folding his large arms across his chest. “She doesn’t want you touchin’ her. Now get your hands off her before I break ‘em.”

Jeff’s grip loosens with his surprise and you rip yourself away.

Joel eyes shift to you. “You ok darlin’?”

You nod and take a step toward Joel.

“This your new man?” Jeff snarls as he clenches his fists.

“That’s none of your business,” Joel answers for you. “Now get out.”

Without warning Jeff lunges at Joel but he’s not quick enough and before you can even figure out what happened, Jeff is laid out on the floor, holding his jaw and muttering curses. The rest of the bikers are now standing behind Joel, their expressions menacing as Joel bends down and gets into Jeff’s face.

“She doesn’t want you anymore. And when a lady tells you to get your hands off, you get your hands off…you understand me?”

Jeff just stares at Joel with hatred, his teeth gritted.

“I asked you a question,” Joel growls.

Jeff’s eyes move to the rest of the bikers and he sits up, spitting on the floor.

“Yea, I heard ya,” he grunts. “She ain’t worth it anyway.”

Jeff jumps to his feet and gives you one last disgusted look before striding out of the bar. Joel goes to follow him but you grab his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

His face softens and he closes his fingers around yours.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks again.

“Where are you going?”

“He can’t talk to you like that,” Joel grits out, taking a step away.

“Please,” you say quietly. “He’s the one that’s not worth it.”

Joel studies you for a long moment, his gaze intense and when he sees your eyes start to water he tilts his head in understanding and gently wraps an arm around your waist.

“Alright sunshine. I won’t. But if I ever see him come near you again…”

“I give you permission to totally kick his ass,” you say, trying to hide your face as you wipe away a stray tear.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, pulling you away from the Juke box toward a more secluded spot. “It’s ok darlin. He didn’t hurt you did he?”

Joel glances at your arm but thankfully there are no marks where Jeff grabbed you.

“No, just scared me more than anything.”

“Ok then,” Joel says softly. “You ok to finish your shift?”

“Yea definitely. It’s a good distraction.”

Joel smiles and you lean into him, the smell of spice and leather enveloping your senses, and kiss his scruffy cheek.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime sunshine,” he says with a wink.

Once Dan and Jade are convinced you’re ok they both start swooning over how Joel stepped in and punched Jeff.

“I wish I could have seen it,” you say almost dreamily. “I was just so stunned by it all it never even registered.”

“Well, I saw it,” Dan says, “and let me tell you…it was HOT.”

You see Jade glance behind you and your eyes go wide.

“Will you two quit it! He’s going to think I’m crazy!” you chide.

The rest of your shift is uneventful and as you’re walking out of the back room, bag in hand, you search for Joel but much to your disappointment you don’t see him anywhere in the bar.

“He walked out while you were getting your things,” Jade says lightly, as if she can sense your disappointment. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”

“Yea,” you answer vaguely. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

You hug Dan and Jade before walking toward the door, your head down as you start to make your way down the street.

“Where are you runnin’ off to sunshine?”

At the sound of Joel’s voice you whirl around and find him leaning against his motorcycle.

“Home,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

His legs are crossed at the ankles and his hands are resting along his bike. His mussed hair moves gently in the light breeze and his jacket is unzipped to reveal his tight black tee beneath.

He’s making it hard to concentrate.

“Let me give you a ride,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen and he pushes off the bike, walking over and standing in your space.

He reaches up to take your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to gently press them against your palm. That’s when you see his knuckles, torn up and crusted with dried blood.

“Joel,” you gasp, flipping your hand to hold his and delicately grazing his knuckles.

He slowly follows your gaze, offering you a lopsided smirk before he assures you, “I’m fine sunshine. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“But you need to clean it and wrap it,” you tell him closing your hand around his.

“Let me take ya home and then I’ll get it taken care of.”

“I’ve never ridden a bike before,” you admit.

Joel dips his head, brushing his lips along your jaw before they meet your ear.

“Lookin’ forward to being your first, darlin.”

Your lips part with your inhale and when he brings his head back and meets your eyes you tremble at the heat you find simmering.

Joel tears his eyes away to grab his helmet from the handlebars and puts it on your head. He fixes the straps carefully and gently, like you’re precious, and it makes you feel warm all over.

“You’re gonna need a jacket too,” he says.

“I didn’t bring one. It’s usually warm when I walk home.”

“You can have mine.”

He shrugs off his leather jacket and rests it over your shoulders, the worn and soft leather molding to your body and wrapping you in his distinct scent.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him without a jacket or long-sleeved shirt and when you catch sight of the tattoos lining his sculpted arms it just about sends you reeling.

You breathe out a curse.

“You okay?” he asks with a smirk playing on his lips.

“I like your ink,” you tell him, reaching out to trace your fingertips over one of the pieces that covers his bicep.

“You should see the rest of them,” he simpers.

His muscle flexes under your touch and you instinctively dig your fingers into his skin.

“I’d like that,” you hum.

This time he mutters a curse and starts to help you into his jacket, zipping it up slowly and stopping just below your collarbone.

“That should keep ya warm enough,” he muses, looking you over.

“I like you in my jacket,” he murmurs, letting his eyes linger before he checks the straps on your helmet one more time.

Then he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth before he turns and throws one long leg over his bike.

You tell him your address and get on behind him, having seen enough movies to know that much, and spread your legs wide to accommodate the large bike and his hips.

Unsure of where to put your arms you’re thankful when he grabs your hands and pulls them around his middle.

“Hold on tight, sunshine,” he says. “Tap my stomach if you need me to stop and watch the pipes, they get hot.”

He looks down at the large chrome pipes on the side of the bike.

“Okay,” you reply, your voice slightly shaky with nerves.

You bury your face against his back, the thin material of his tee shirt doing little to hide the muscles beneath but before you can really enjoy the feeling the bike roars to life and he pulls away from the sidewalk.

Your whole body vibrates with the action and the sensation makes you squeeze him tighter. You can feel his laughter just before he opens the throttle and takes off.

He takes the long way to your house and when he slows down and kills the engine you still don’t let go of him.

With a press of his palm to your hands you reluctantly let go, your legs wobbly as you try to hop off the bike. He quickly grabs your waist and helps you off, sliding one hand along your arm until he holds your hand in his.

“So?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.

“That was kinda fun…I’d do it again.”

At that, he gives you a real smile, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s good sunshine. I’ll take you for a ride anytime you want.”

His last words come out like a purr and you’re glad for the hold he has on your hand to keep you standing upright.

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and lower your lashes, tugging him toward your house. You stop at the door and pull your bag in front of you, searching for your keys.

“I can’t seem to find my damn…” you start to mutter, ready to turn your bag over and dump it out.

With a frustrated sigh you turn to face him, finding very little space between your bodies. You realize there is nowhere to go as you press yourself into the door, Joel’s body almost touching yours.

The first thing you feel is the strength of his hand around your bicep and the other wrapping around your neck as he drags you closer and covers your mouth with his.

Your bag drops to the floor and you cling to him, the smell of him, the feel of his hands on your body holding you against him and it all overpowers you and you make a throaty sound you can’t control.

His hand at the back of your neck tightens and he groans low, the sound of it skimming down your spine. His kiss grows deeper and more demanding, long enough to steal your breath and you slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back only an inch to look into your eyes. His own are dark, his lashes lowered over them as he traces his lips with his tongue. His hands settle at your waist and he rests his forehead to yours.

“Joel?” you whisper.

When he lifts his head he gently releases you, his eyes washing over you with a slightly pained expression.

“I’m a gentleman,” he says with a wry smile. “Let me at least take you out first.”

Everything about him screams that he wants to kiss you again but somehow he keeps his distance.

“Right, a date,” you says breathlessly.

“Fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy hair.

Before you’ve fully recovered from the first kiss he has you pressed against the door again, his thumb tucked under your chin as his lips trail down the column of your neck. His hands slide lower, stroking your curves as his lips find the spot just below your ear and he whispers, “if I don’t go now…”

“Right…a gentleman…” you gasp, arching into him.

He pulls away, his eyes telling you everything he’s thinking.

Your knees are wobbly and you catch the doorframe with a sigh.

“Thank you again. For coming to my rescue.”

“Like I said, anytime sunshine,” he reminds you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow…”

It’s more of a question than a statement and for a brief moment you see a soft vulnerability flicker across his features.

“Of course,” you answer. “My shift starts at five.”

You lift your hand, brushing your fingers through his beard and then running them across the lines of his face, feeling the softness of his lips beneath your thumb. He reaches up and catches your hand, tugging it to his mouth and kissing across your knuckles.

“See you then sunshine and keep the jacket.”

@justkinsey @sstan-hoe @blackwidownat2814

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #protective!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #biker!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #biker au #joel miller au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #esquire

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

Text

It’s been a while since I fever dreamed the plot to something, but I just woke up from a literal fever dream set in a futuristic version of New York where Tom Hiddleston and his pet cyborg owl are entrenched in a spy thriller buddy-cop narrative, only to get swept up in the conflicting heartfelt rom-com narrative of Dakota Johnson who, after a series of unfortunate breakups, has sworn off love and committed herself heart and soul to her job as a curator at Futuristic Met Museum. This is much to the distress of her weed smoking, shroom taking trans lesbian mothers and their elderly dog, Jeff, who just want her to find happiness and love.

As part of his cover, Tom and his cyborg owl, Frank, move into the same apartment where he’ll be staying for several months while he plans to steal a diamond from the Met. I think if you held it up to the light it would project nuclear launch codes that’d been etched onto it. Don’t ask me, my brain was more focused on making the cyborg owl into the wise-cracking comic relief. It kept saying things like “wow Tom, you really are a jack of owl trades” or “don’t worry, Tom, owl always love you.”

The pair meet in the lobby where Tom manages to piss off Dakota by not holding the elevator for her while she is carrying heavy boxes. The apartment building, however, is old and shitty, and he gets stuck in the elevator, requiring him to be rescued by one of Dakota’s mothers who also happens to be the super. Dakota huffs her way out the stairwell just in time to hear her mother inviting the “nice British man” to dinner, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her mom is trying to set her up with the asshole and the cyborg owl that sits on his shoulder like a parrot.

Tom, who finds out she works for the met over said dinner, decides to go along with it as he realizes she’d be the perfect cover to get into the Met Museum for an upcoming gala event—not to mention the perfect person to take the fall for his theft—and begins wooing her relentlessly, assuring Frank, the cyborg owl, that it’s all just part of the mission.

Eventually, the pair fall for each other for realzies, and Tom is conflicted over using her to steal the diamond but his time is running out because we also find out he went rogue for a while after his partner died and was using his skills to work freelance for an international crime syndicate and now the mob is after him?????

Anyway, he’s about to confess all to her on the night of the gala when she gets a phone call from her moms letting her know that their elderly dog, Jeff, is dying so the pair rush back to the apartment and take him to the nearest cyborg vet in the hopes of saving him. En route, the mob find them and start shooting at the flying car they’re in and it leads to a comedic shouting match between the pair along the lines of “what do you mean you’re an international spy and the mob are after you? Ugh, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner! I told you everything about me!”

“Oh, yes, your embarrassing high school stories are exactly the same thing as divulging international secrets. Tell you what, after this let’s get a coffee and I can tell you some highly sensitive top secret information to even out the playing field.”

Anyway, Frank the cyborg owl manages to take out the mob car chasing them with a grenade (????!), and the pair get Jeff to the cyborg vet in time. The dream shifted after that to Dakota helping Tom to figure out how to break into the Met so he can get the diamond, not because she loves him and he helped save her childhood dog, but because she wants him gone. Tom accepts her help and storms off to his own apartment where Frank the cyborg owl is poignantly silent save to say “take some Tylenol”

“…what?”

“Wake up, you need Tylenol.”

Which is what sent me rocketing upright in bed, dizzy and dehydrated, pounding migraine headache, drenched in sweat and running what the thermometer tells me is a 102 fever.

Which brings us to now where I’m downing Tylenol in the dimly lit kitchen, guzzling water and typing this all up on my phone because there’s no way I’m going to remember all this in the morning but damn if it wasn’t a fun dream.

Anyway, shout out to Frank the cyborg owl for waking me up before my brain fried ✌️🦉. I’m going back to bed.

#I need a tag for my weird dreams #they happen infrequently but when they do they’re always bangers #long post #literal fever dream #thanks delayed reaction to the Covid shot…

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watermelonlovershigh · 1 year

Text

12 Little Things Harry Does >

AN: so thank you to my brain for coming up with this idea. i've done one of these similar to this concept before except that one was specifically dadrry. hope you all enjoy and feedback is encouraged.

This contains: mentions of sex, mostly fluff, mentions of being sick

{ husbandrry - softrry - current harry era }

word count- 1,392

Twelve small things Harry does out of his love and admiration he has for you.

1. No matter how heated the moment is getting, Harry will always stop before things get too carried away and take off each of his rings, setting them in the little ring dish that sits on his bedside table. Sometimes it can be annoying when you've just stumbled into the bedroom, making out and tugging on each others clothes for Harry to just stop and remove his rings, but you know he has good intentions. His good intentions are that he never wants to hurt you by accident with his rings, beings his hands love to roam your most sensitive areas and sometimes even go inside those sensitive areas.

2. If Harry wakes up before you do to go on his morning run or trip to the gym, he always leans over your sleeping body before he leaves and pecks a kiss on either your cheeks, nose, or parted lips. Most of the time you stay asleep through his act of love but there have been times you've woken up. Harry just can't leave the house without giving you a quick kiss, even if you won't know it happened because you were asleep.

3. Harry knows you are severely allergic to lettuce so he makes sure when ordering you food that he mentions no lettuce. If he ordered you burgers or tacos, he'll even open them up, digging through the meat and toppings with a fork to make sure there are no traces of lettuce before giving it to you. And if he eats a salad himself, he makes sure to brush his teeth right after so when you kiss each other you don't come in contact with any lettuce he just ate. His kind gestures make your heart nearly burst.

4. When he's away on trips that you unfortunately couldn't come with him on, Harry will always send you a goodnight text. Even if the time zones are totally different. If he's in America and he's going to sleep, he'll send you a little goodnight message even though for you in England are half way through your morning activities.

5. When Harry is feeling a bit sad or down about something, he'll crawl into your lap and lay his head either on your chest or shoulder. This can be when you're on the couch watching a film or in bed about to sleep. He doesn't even ask you if he can do it, he just does it and you don't question it. You welcome Harry with loving arms and hold him to you tightly so he has that security feeling he's longing for.

6. Harry will track your periods each month and make sure you have enough pads and tampons stocked up in the bathroom. When he sees you're about to start your period within the next couple of days, he'll look in the bathroom cabinets and see how many products you have left from your last cycle. If you're running low, he'll make a trip to the store and grab you another box of whichever ones you were running low on, pads or tampons, sometimes both. Since you've been married you've never gone a month without enough period products.

7. He'll tell you he loves you about a million times each day. Harry's love language is physical touch and words of affirmation. If he's not physically showing you he loves you with hugs, kisses, or even sex, he'll say "I love you". When you first wake up, Harry tells you he loves you. When you're driving down the street, he'll say" I love you" over the radios music. When he's cooking you both dinner, he'll turn around from the stove and tell you he loves you. When he's in the shower and you're at the sink getting ready, he'll yell out from within the steamy shower, "I love you". During sex, no matter if its a casual quickie or love making, he moans out "I love you's" over and over again, making sure you know he really does love you alot.

8. When Harry's asleep, he's always gotta be touching you in some way. When you first got into a relationship that part was a hard one to get use to because you loved your personal space when sleeping. But after a while you got use to it. Harry is either spooning you, you're spooning him, he's laying across your chest, you're laying across his. If you are sleeping side by side, he'll have an arm stretched out so his hand is on your arm or belly. Sometimes subconsciously rubbing your skin with his thumb in gentle circles in his sleep. You're legs are usually twisted together somehow as well.

9. Harry will cry at sad films and not be embarrassed about it either. Well, when you first started dating years ago, he was, but now in your marriage he's not at all. He's watched The Notebook a thousand times before but still cries at the ending every time he watches it again. Every time you watch Titanic together he bawls his little green eyes out, which in turn has you holding him like he's a baby and kissing his tears away. You love how as a man he's not afraid to show his emotions. It's a sexy trait for males to have in your opinion.

10. When you're sick, Harry goes above and beyond to make sure you're okay and well taken care of. If you have a cold, he will run to the store in the middle of the night to buy you some cold medicine. He'll set a timer on his phone for each new dose you're suppose to have and check your temperature every few hours to make sure it doesn't spike. If you have the dreaded tummy bug, he'll sit with you on the bathroom floor while you're puking your guts up in the toilet, rubbing your back and holding your hair away from your face. He'll make sure you stay hydrated with plenty of fluids and even feed you some plain crackers in hopes they stay down. And when they don't stay down and you can't make it to the toilet or trash can fast enough, he will pull out the cleaning supplies and clean up your vomit. All while comforting you and telling you it's okay and not to worry about the mess.

11. When Harry is sick, he is such a baby but you truly don't mind because nothing brings you more joy then taking care of your lover when he's in a vulnerable position. Though he is scared he'll get you sick, he can't help but need your cuddles and care when he's not feeling very well. If he has a cold, he'll ask you nicely if you can bring him some warm tea and run him a bath. After you make his tea and fill up the bathtub, he'll beg you to sit beside the tub and keep him company. Then you'll see just how weak and fragile he is and end up washing his hair and body yourself. Him loving every second of your gentle hands on his body. When his stomach is not well, he'll ask for tummy rubs. When the tummy rubs don't settle his swirling stomach, he'll tell you he's gonna be sick and have you lead him to the bathroom because he hates being sick alone. You'll clip his hair up and rub his back as he kneels down and pukes in the toilet. And Harry hates throwing up so he'll end up crying and you have to comfort him even more then you already were.

12. If you have a date planned for the night and you're getting ready, when he first views your sexy outfit he has to palm himself through his pants because you turn him on. Harry will walk up to you, wrap his arms around your body, give you a smiley kiss on the lips, mutter how beautiful you are, and tell you how he can't wait to get you out of these clothes when you get home later. Then throughout the drive to the restaurant, in the restaurant, and the drive home, Harry will be supporting a boner. He's not only turned on by your appearance but also just has a love boner from how much he loves you.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @japanchrry // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore1 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

// @luv-flor7777 // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone // @goldenkhae // @lntwithharry // @shadowygladiatorlight // @manifestrry // @mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghosts // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @theroosterswife24 // @justlemmeholdyou // @stylesmygucci // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

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My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles numbered list #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #husbandrry #husband!harry #softrry #soft!harry #harry styles fic rec #harry x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

Text

Stay With Me

Hi guys!

I've got a lot of request for a new Luna one (one, two, three, four, five) so here it is :)

Enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of injury, a little bit of angst, massive fluff

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Back in the hotel room that Lucy shares with Ona after her morning walk, the English woman can only smile in front of the view that offers itself to her. Ona, sitting at the small desk in the bedroom, is deeply focused on the screen of her laptop that she insisted to take with her. And for good reason, the young fullback, in addition to being a professional footballer, has embarked herself on financial studies and is currently in full revision. Not a lot of people know that the Catalan started it. It was something she started in back in Manchester and that she's still working on.

But what makes Lucy smile is Ona's concentrated face and her slight frown. She putted on her glasses, her hair is loose and she’s so focused on her notes that she doesn't even realize that Lucy has just entered the room. If Lucy hadn't found her girlfriend so attractive as she is right now, she would probably have pouted.

Ona finally notices Lucy's presence, but she doesn't leave the screen with her eyes. It’s only through her smirk that Lucy knows she’s been spotted. But this doesn't prevent the brunette from putting her two hands on the back of Ona’s chair, trying to decipher Ona’s notes taking in Spanish, over her shoulder.

"Hello there" whispers Lucy, laying a kiss on Ona’s neck, making her shiver. "You’ll have to finish soon Sweetheart, we’re going to leave for the stadium"

Ona responds with a simple throat noise, finishing to write her sentence as well as she can since Lucy has laid a new kiss on her neck and now her lips are slowly rising towards her neck.

"Lucy" warns Ona, smiling anyway.

Ona was going to ask her girlfriend to behave herself, but suddenly there are teeth against her skin and brain short circuit.

"Mh?"

"If you continue, it won’t be my studies that will make us late"

Lucy laughs softly but retreats, offering her hand to help Ona to get up.

"I can’t help it. These glasses are doing things to me"

Ona rolls her eyes but faces her after getting up, passing her arms around Lucy’s neck for a delicate kiss. But it's quickly interrupted by strong knocks to the door and the perfectly recognizable voice of miss Putellas.

"Lucy Bronze, take your dirty hands off my sweet Ona and come down, it’s time!"

If Lucy grumble, Ona laughs softly as she hears the voice and the words of their captain. Alexia has always been very supportive and sweet about their relationship, Ona still remembers perfectly the comfort she found in the blonde when she found herself facing Lucy's reaction at the end of the World Cup final. Alexia had put her arm around her shoulders and reassured her, advising her to give Lucy time to digest things.

And she was right. When Ona took a second shy approach in Lucy’s direction after handing over the cup, it was Lucy who took the Spanish in her arms and apologized at length for her reaction. Then came the moment between the two girls that the photographers immortalized, the rest of the world far from suspecting that the two young women were in reality already in love for several months.

********

A few hours later, the two women are on the football field, playing the final of the Champions League. The game being played in Portugal, many Barcelona fans made the trip and are easily recognizable thanks to their colors. The ambient noise is particularly high, but this doesn't prevent Ona from being fully focused on her game.

The stress and pre-game pressure gave way to a determination without fail. After a short stint in the middle of the season with all the matches they had to play, Ona regained her usual form and quality of play.

Barcelona led only 2-1 in the sixtieth minute, despite a Barcelona domination. Frustration begins to be felt by the opposing team, which can't pass the midfield and the wall formed by the Barcelona's defense.

Ona will need to review the images to understand what really happened, but what she knows is that she finds herself suddenly on the ground with a radiating pain in her knee after one of the opposing players has fallen on her. Or rather, Ona will realize it by reviewing the images, fall on her knee with her boot first.

Ona’s cry of pain echoes throughout the stadium and Lucy feels her blood freeze in her veins. Despite being located on the other side of the field, Lucy is the second to join Ona, only Alexia who was nearby has done faster than her. Between the fact that they speak too fast in Catalan and that Ona’s voice is distorted by pain, the English woman has a hard time understanding what they were saying.

However, when she hears Alexia talk about ACL, she is not far from the malaise.

"It's her ACL?" Lucy asks in a scared voice.

"I don’t know" whispers Ona, her breathing difficult.

Lying on her side, her face hidden in her arm, the pain seems to be difficult to bear. Lucy knows perfectly well that Ona is far from sensitive to pain.

Crouching at the head of Ona, Alexia asks the questions instead of the nurses of the club yet came to take care of the Catalan. Too absorbed by her girlfriend’s twisted pain face, Lucy finds it hard to focus on anything else. When the nurses ask Ona to roll on her back, Lucy grabs her hand and doesn't release it when she perhaps should have. But Ona grab it and squeeze it hard anyway.

Neither of them have done what people like to call a "hard lunch", but they don’t hide either. Lucy has never been one to appreciate the demarcations of affection in public, they have never had too "strong" gestures. Even if she must admit that the English woman quickly succumbed to the constant need to be physically close to Ona.

A few minutes later, Ona sat down and seems reassured by hearing the different sentences made by the nurses. Their voices more posed than Alexia’s earlier allows Lucy to understand that a rupture of the ligaments seems to be excluded, but that Ona will have an impressive bruised.

"We can put stitches, if you want" the nurse proposes by carefully observing Ona’s numerous wound.

"I’m going to have to get out of the field and get substitute for that, right?" mutters Ona.

"Yes" simply answers the nurse

"Can I keep playing like this without the stitches?"

"Yes" answers again her interlocutor after a split second "But we will protect it correctly. And it is obviously on condition that you can walk"

"Ona…" gently makes Lucy.

She obviously understands Ona’s mindset, she too would be gutted to leave a Champions League final on injury. But it’s obviously out of the question for Lucy to let the woman she loves take risks. The two women only need an exchange of eyes to understand each other.

"I can do it, I feel it" promises Ona in a tone that she hopes will be soothing.

Lucy observes her attentively for a few seconds, her eyes plunged into Ona's chocolate eyes that she adores more than anything, before simply nodding.

The other two teams took advantage of this break to go to drink, the Spanish ones after obviously making sure that things were going well for Ona, so Lucy decides to stay next to Ona while her bandage is put in place.

"I’m sorry. I panicked a bit" Ona mutters to Lucy as the last bandage is put in to hold the protection around her knee.

"Me too" confesses Lucy without leaving her eyes.

The English takes the place of the second nurse and helps Ona to get up, her hands close to the young woman when she's up, ready to catch her at the slightest sign of weakness. But after testing several movements, Ona nods to the staff.

"I think I’m okay" breath Ona.

But Lucy still takes care of accompanying behind the line so the match can resume. And, without really realizing what she is doing, leans over Ona to kiss her before leaving. When it hits her, Lucy changes direction at the last moment and her lips settle at the corner of Ona’s, who feels her breath stop briefly under the surprise.

A split second later, Lucy turned around to take her place back on the pitch, hoping no cameras weren’t turned in their direction. (They totally were)

About thirty minutes later, the whistles announcing the end of the game rang out. Salma managed to secure the team’s lead by scoring a third goal, so the victory did not escape them. And it’s therefore with a joy hardly measurable that Ona wins her first Champions League. If she directly crosses Lucy’s gaze to whom she addresses a big smile, it’s Ingrid who takes her first in her arms, the Norwegian woman jumping in the arms of the first teammate near her.

The ceremony cup gives Ona the impression of walking on a cloud. She’s simply unable to stay away from Lucy during these moments, not knowing if she will spend at least an extra season in Barcelona. Lucy never extend her contracts, each time wishing to see what other places have to offer to her. Ona knows that an extension has been offered to her, just as she knows that Manchester City, Lyon or even American teams are interested in her.

If the idea of returning to a long-distance relationship like they were before last summer seems possible if Lucy leaves for Lyon or Manchester, the idea of being separated from her by an entire ocean and different time zones terrifies her. She's terrified that Lucy can lose interest with her and their relationship. But she never talked to Lucy about it, obviously not wishing to be a brake on her career.

The fullback decides to push these thoughts into a corner of her head for the moment, preferring to focus on the celebrations and the present moment. However, Lucy doesn't miss the dreaming look of her girlfriend when she watches the golden confetti falling from the sky.

Not resisting the urge to be with her, Lucy approaches Ona, signaling her presence by placing a light hand in the hollow of her back. Quickly leaving her observation, Ona addresses a tender smile to her girlfriend who gives it back to her.

"Are you okay?" asks Lucy, again almost disconcerted as she dives into Ona’s eyes.

Her chocolate eyes now seem glittered with gold, reflecting the sparkle of confetti around them.

"Perfectly" assures Ona with a small smile, even though the pain in her knee seems to wake up now that the adrenaline is slowly passing. "You?"

"Better than ever"

Ona’s smile is magnified by seeing the real joy on Lucy’s face. The Hispanic has often teased Lucy by seeing her not taking advantage of the wins at the moment and immediately focusing on the next game, but tonight looks different.

"We were close to the hard launch" comments Ona, once again looking up at the confetti that still fall from the sky.

Her amused smile, however, makes Lucy widely understood that she’s not angry and that it even amuses her a lot. These stories of "hard launch" and "soft launch" having become a kind of running gag between them. Lucy laughs and rolls her eyes, giving her a little playful hip kick.

"Don’t be an ass. I was really worried about you"

"It would have been a shame if it was me coming out on an injury because of her knee, between both of us. I was afraid you couldn’t get up when you knelt next to me earlier" Ona tease.

"I will kneel in front of you as often as I can" smirk Lucy, bowing her eyebrows with a playful look to the implication of her sentence.

Ona obviously doesn’t need any further explanation but gives her a playful slap on the arm in return. The noise around them prevents anyone within fifty centimeters of them from hearing what they are saying and in any case everyone is too busy celebrating or chatting with other people.

"I'll always be here to help you getting up"

Lucy smiles again before biting her lower lip, looking closely at her girlfriend. She knows that the next words she says will surely trigger something, positive or negative. But it’s been a few days since her decision for the rest of her career has been made and she simply can’t keep the information to herself anymore. And it doesn’t matter if it’s not the right time.

"Well you can continue to do it on the pitches next year, by the way"

It takes a few seconds for Ona to understand what this sentence implies and she feels her heart miss a beat, mixture of joy and fear of having misunderstood.

"What?"

"I extended my contract"

"Lucy…"

Ona feels silly when tears tickle her eyes under Lucy’s watchful gaze, and even before she can do anything, they are already threatening to overflow.

"Is it real?"

"Yes" replies Lucy smiling, before adding almost timidly "I stay with you"

Ona’s cheeks are wet with tears when she jumps into her arms, pressing her face against hers before kissing her. Smiling against her lips, Lucy passed her arms around Ona’s waist to secure her and prevent her from falling. They will finally last a year and a half before one of their kisses is made public and that it probably formalizes their relationship in the eyes of people.

"Hard launch" grins Lucy.

And even if the gesture will be long teased by their teammates, it doesn’y matter for either of them. What does, however, is the happiness they both feel at this moment.

"I was so afraid of losing you" Ona confesses without really taking off from Lucy, however finding her two feet on the ground again.

"It will never happen, even if all the oceans of the world separate us, Ona. I promise."

#woso imagine #ona batlle #woso fanfics #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

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